Aria
Lucas exhales slowly, then stares down the crowd. “I believe my skills already speak for themselves,” he says, voice steady but cocky as hell. “I’m better than anyone else. If you want our school to dominate, I’m your best bet. No one…no one…can replace me or do what I do.”
The crowd fucking cheers.
Damon lets out a long, dramatic sigh. “Okay, that was kinda…”
“Arrogant,” Theo chimes in.
“I thought it was great,” I say, even though, deep down, I know it was… a little much.
The coach nods. “Alright, Mark, your turn.”
Mark steps forward, expression calm and way too composed. “So, I’ve always wanted to attend Long Range University,” he starts. “With its rich history, especially in hockey. I’m not saying I’m the best, but I know I can make an impact-lead the team to new heights while learning a few things myself.”
The crowd erupts.
Even louder than for Lucas.
Lucas is fuming.
“It wasn’t bad,” Theo says.
“Are you kidding? That was a great speech,” Damon argues.
I make the mistake of looking at Lucas.
Yeah. He’s fucking livid. His hands are clenched so tight, I think he might snap his own fingers. The jealousy rolling off him is almost visible.
My poor baby.
The coach steps forward again. “Thank you both for your input. Now, let’s move on to the final round…a 30-minute match. Winner takes all.”
Lucas and his team gather in one corner, while Mark and his team go to the other.
The whistle blows, and Lucas launches into action, shoving past everyone like a man possessed. With one brutal swing, he slams the puck straight into the net.
The crowd erupts.
“Yeah!” I jump up, fists in the air as cheers explode around us.
“1-0,” the coach announces through his megaphone.
Lucas barely acknowledges it. He’s already back in motion. Again, he cuts through the defense alone and-boom…another goal.
But this time, the cheers? Not as loud.
“2-0.”
“Fair play, Russo,” Mark says with a grin, chuckling.
Lucas doesn’t even look at him.
“What the hell is wrong with Lucas?” Theo groans, arms crossed. “Why isn’t he involving the rookies? This is supposed to be a team game!”
I bite my lip. Lucas is too wound up. Too pissed off.
The game resumes, but this time, the other team takes control. They move in sync, crisp passes cutting through the defense until the puck lands on Mark’s stick.
He shoots.
Scores.
The stadium erupts.
“2-1.”
Lucas lets out a frustrated groan and snaps at one of his teammates. Yeah, now he’s just being an ass.
Play starts again, and Mark somehow manages to score another one.
Shit.
“2-2.”
“This isn’t good,” I mutter, stomach twisting.
Five minutes left.
Lucas doesn’t hesitate. He snatches the puck, muscles coiled tight, and charges forward.
But fuck.
He’s surrounded.
“Over here!” one of his teammates yells.
Lucas ignores him. Keeps pushing. Keeps forcing his way through.
He winds up to shoot, but Mark intercepts with a clean steal and immediately passes to another teammate.
And then Mark’s team moves like a fucking machine. Precision. Speed. They tear through the defense, setting up the final shot.
Mark could’ve taken it himself.
But instead he passes, and his teammate scores.
The crowd explodes.
Damon, Theo, and I just stare, stunned.
Across the stadium, I spot Mia and Lily, mouths hanging open.
The coach steps up. “There we have it! Lucas Russo: 80 points. Mark DeVine: 90 points.”
My heart sinks. Lucas fucking lost.
“You both showed great passion and strength,” the coach continues, voice steady. “But being a leader is more than that. You need teamwork, humility, and restraint. And in the end, the new captain of the Rangers hockey team is-”
“Mark DeVine.”
The crowd cheers again, the team swarming Mark, lifting him onto their shoulders like some fucking hero.
While Lucas is frozen…seething.
“Fuck,” I whisper, chest aching at the look on his face.
The coach clears his throat. “Lucas Russo, you’ll be assistant captain. Congratulations.”
Nothing.
Lucas doesn’t move. Doesn’t even blink.
He just stares, fists clenched so tight his knuckles go white.
I start moving toward him…But Mark beats me to it.
“I look forward to working with you,” Mark says, extending a hand, genuine as ever.
Lucas slaps it away.
“Get the fuck away from me,” he snarls. “I don’t need your bullshit gloating.”
Mark frowns. “I’m not…”
“Fuck you,” Lucas spits. “First you try to take my girl. Now this? You’re a fucking fraud.”
And then he shoves him hard.
Mark stumbles back, shakes his head… then shoves him back.
And before I can even blink…They’re swinging.
“What the fuck?!” I yell, rushing over.
This is so not fucking happening right now.