PUCK ME, STEPBROTHER

Bryson's POV

My phone has been buzzing nonstop for three days.

Every time I look at it, there's another text from Mom. Each one more excited than the last, full of heart emojis and exclamation points that make my chest tight with guilt.

"How are your classes going? Have you made any friends yet?"

"Remember what we talked about - this is your chance to really belong somewhere!"

"Richard says the campus has amazing clubs and activities. You should try something new!"

I stare at the latest message while sitting on my dorm room bed, trying to figure out how to respond. How do I tell her that her new husband's son's friends have made me their personal entertainment? How do I explain that I can't walk across campus without hearing whispers about the dining hall incident?

I can't. She's too happy.

Mom deserves this happiness after everything she's been through. After Dad died, she worked two jobs just to keep us afloat. She deserves Richard and his fancy house and not having to worry about money anymore. She deserves to believe that everything is perfect, that her son is thriving at this expensive school she never could have afforded on her own.

Even if it's a lie.

"Everything's great, Mom. Still settling in but it's good."

I hit send before I can change my mind.

The truth is, things have gotten worse since the dining hall. I found out the gorgeous asshole's name is Julian Hayes, and apparently he runs this entire school. Everywhere I go, I hear his name. Girls talking about how hot he is, guys talking about hockey stats and parties at his place, professors mentioning his family's donations to the university.

He's like campus royalty, and I'm the peasant who dared to spill coffee on the prince.

The worst part is that I can't stop thinking about him. Not in a good way - well, not entirely in a good way. Every time I see him across the quad with his perfect hair and that confident smile, my blood boils. But underneath the anger is something else, something I don't want to think about.

He's gorgeous. Even when he's being a complete bastard, even when he's humiliating me in front of half the school, he's still the most attractive guy I've ever seen.

Which makes me hate him even more.

My phone buzzes again. Another text from Mom.

"Oh! Richard mentioned that his family is really into hockey. Maybe you should try out for the team! Wouldn't that be amazing?"

I actually laugh out loud. The sound echoes in my empty dorm room, bitter and sharp.

Hockey. Right. Because what I really need is to embarrass myself even more, this time on ice in front of an entire arena.

But then I keep reading.

"I know it sounds scary, but you're so athletic! Remember how good you were at soccer in high school? Richard says the Hayes family has been involved with Blackridge hockey for generations. It would be such a wonderful way to fit in!"

The Hayes family. I wonder if they're related to that Julian Hayes guy who's been making my life hell. Probably not - Hayes is a common enough name, and there are lots of rich families at this school.

The idea is so ridiculous I almost text her back to explain how impossible it is. But then I think about how excited she sounded when she called last night, how she kept talking about family traditions and bringing our families together.

She wants this so badly.

"I'll think about it," I text back.

It's not a lie. I am thinking about it. I'm thinking about how completely insane it would be to step onto ice I've never skated on in my life, wearing gear I can't afford, just to get demolished by Julian Hayes in front of the entire team.

But I'm also thinking about Mom's voice when she talks about our "new family." I'm thinking about how hard she's trying to make this work, how much she wants me to be happy here.

I love her enough to do almost anything for her happiness.

Even humiliate myself further.

The week crawls by like torture. Julian's friends have turned harassing me into some kind of hobby. Nothing obvious enough to report - they're too smart for that. Just constant little things. Bumping into me in hallways. Making comments loud enough for me to hear. Laughing when I walk by.

"There goes coffee boy," I hear Tyler say as I pass their table in the library.

"Think he's learned to watch where he's walking yet?" Marcus adds.

I keep my head down and keep walking, but my hands clench into fists at my sides.

Every time I see Julian across campus, that perfect smile on his face like he owns the world, I want to punch something. But I also can't stop staring. He moves like he knows everyone's watching him, confident and easy, like gravity works differently for him than it does for the rest of us.

It's infuriating.

It's also kind of mesmerizing, which makes me hate myself almost as much as I hate him.

By Thursday, I'm ready to transfer schools. I'm actually looking up application deadlines for other colleges when my roommate Danny bursts through the door.

"Dude, you have to come to this party tomorrow night," he says, dropping his backpack and flopping onto his bed. "Everyone's talking about it. It's going to be epic."

"What party?"

"The Morrison party. Jake Morrison's family has this huge house off campus, and apparently they're throwing some massive thing. The whole hockey team's going to be there, plus like half the school."

My stomach drops. Hockey team means Julian.

"I'm good," I say, turning back to my laptop. "Parties aren't really my thing."

"Come on, man. You've been hiding in this room all week. When's the last time you actually had fun?"

I can't remember, honestly. But that doesn't mean I want to go somewhere I'll be surrounded by people who think I'm a joke.

"I said I'm good."

But Danny won't let it go. He spends the next hour trying to convince me, listing all the reasons why I should go. Free alcohol, hot girls, good music, chance to "expand my social circle."

What he doesn't understand is that my social circle here is basically him and the girl in my economics class who sometimes lets me borrow a pen.

Friday arrives with more buzzing from my phone. Mom's texts have evolved into full paragraphs about hockey tryouts and family bonding and how proud she is of me for "putting myself out there."

I haven't put myself out there. I've been hiding like a coward.

Maybe that's part of the problem.

"You're coming tonight," Danny announces when he gets back from his afternoon classes. "I already told people you'd be there."

"You what?"

"Look, I know you're nervous about fitting in, but you can't hide forever. These people aren't as bad as you think they are."

If only he knew.

But as the afternoon wears on, something changes in my head. Maybe it's all of Mom's texts about being brave and trying new things. Maybe it's the memory of Julian's cold smile in the dining hall. Maybe I'm just tired of feeling like a victim.

Whatever it is, by the time Danny starts getting ready, I find myself digging through my closet for something that doesn't look completely pathetic.

"Wait, are you actually coming?" Danny asks, pausing with his shirt halfway over his head.

"Maybe," I say, pulling out the one decent shirt I own. It's nothing special, just a dark blue button-down that Mom bought me for high school graduation, but it's clean and it fits okay.

"Dude, that's awesome! You're going to have a great time, I promise."

I'm not sure about that. But I'm sure about one thing - I'm tired of everyone at this school thinking I'm some fragile charity case who can be scared away by a few mean comments.

I'm tired of hiding.

If Julian Hayes and his friends want to see me as weak, fine. But I'm not going to make it easy for them by disappearing.

"Yeah," I say, looking at myself in the mirror. "Let's go to this party."

Danny grins and claps me on the shoulder. "That's the spirit! Trust me, this is going to be epic."

I'm not sure epic is the word I'd use.