My Hockey boyfriend is a girl ; Mated to my crush

My Hockey boyfriend is a girl ; Mated to my crush

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Introduction

“Are you not… mad at me?” I asked breathlessly. “That I’m a girl?”

He gripped both sides of my arms. His eyes scanned my face as he cupped both sides of my face tightly between his hands. “I don’t care… I don’t care that you lied… I love you either way,” he panted and pressed his lips against mine.

My hockey stick landed against the ice with a loud clank as I began to kiss him back.

He didn’t hate me anymore.

William didn’t hate me anymore!!


Daphne Sinclair is an obsessed fan of a hockey player, William Hollander. When William suddenly announces that he would quit hockey after high school, Daphne gets a crazy idea.

She would attend William’s high school, dressed like a boy, and try to get into the school’s hockey team. This way she would be close to William and try to get him to keep playing.

Will Daphne’s plan work?

Will she get into the team, or will the school figure out that she is a woman and send her away before she even gets a chance to carry out her plan?

Chapter 1

Daphne's POV

I did something crazy.

Something no she-wolf would ever dare to do.

All for a boy.

My palms were sweaty as I held tightly onto the hockey stick in my hand. My legs trembled as I skated across the ice.

The coach’s eyes were on me.

This was the moment I had been waiting for, the moment that would decide the next few years of my life.

“Keep moving!” the coach shouted as I and the other boys kicked the puck across the hockey rink.

I had been in love with hockey for as long as I could remember. And I had been in love with William Hollander since I was fifteen years old.

He was the star player and captain of the hockey team at Silver Moon High School, a prestigious all-boys school.

The school was famous because of its hockey team. They played at national events and had already made a name for themselves long before college.

Everyone knew who they were. They had built solid careers for themselves and had multiple fans. I wasn’t the only one.

But before school went on vacation last semester, it was revealed that William would only play hockey until graduation and then stop for good. He said he needed to focus on himself.

The news broke me.

I had studied William for years. Hockey was his life, it was who he was. He wouldn’t just walk away from it when it meant so much to him.

I knew something was wrong. I knew there was something they weren’t telling us.

So I took it upon myself to figure it out and change his heart.

Someone as famous and important as William wouldn’t be easily accessible, so I had only one option:

Infiltrate the school as a male student, get onto the hockey team, and get close to him.

I cut my brown hair to look like a boy’s, threw out all my girl clothes, and bought boys’ clothes instead. With the money I had saved up, I got a fake ID that portrayed me as a boy. My whole life had been rearranged, just to meet William.

And it was worth it.

My mom was back in New York City, a town dominated by humans. I had lived there my whole life. My dad, on the other hand, was a werewolf and had died before I was born.

I was a hybrid.

I had managed to convince Mom to let me come here by telling her that being around werewolves my age would be good for me, it would help me connect with my wolf side.

She thought she had sent me to an all-girls boarding school.

But I had come here instead.

Luckily for me, one of William’s teammates had moved to London to be with his family, which meant a spot had opened up on the team.

Having practiced hockey since I was fifteen, I was ready for tryouts. But there was a reason men and women didn’t usually play sports together.

They were taller. Stronger. More athletic.

“Keep moving!” the coach shouted again.

I noticed the coach’s eyes land on me, his gaze stern and calculating. I almost stumbled, but I quickly regained my balance.

Soon, he blew his whistle. We all stopped playing and turned to face him.

He looked at us through the glass of the ice rink and jotted a few things down in his notepad.

“It was a good game, boys,” he shouted. “We’ll discuss this and get back to you.”

The boys nodded and began skating toward the door, each slowly taking off their gear.

I followed closely behind, my eyes fixed on the back of their shirts. Who is number eleven? I wondered.

I slid the glove off my left hand and raked my fingers through my short brown hair in frustration. Was this it? I didn’t get in?

This was the reason I had come here in the first place.

“Number Eleven!” the coach shouted. “You are not supposed to get off the ice!”

The boys shot me confused glances.

“Aren’t you number eleven?” a boy asked.

I froze.

A wave of confusion washed over me. I was eleven. Why were they looking for me?

I clenched my hockey stick tightly.

Had they figured me out?

That I didn’t belong here? That I was an imposter?

I spun around to face the coach with a fake smile on my face. “I’m eleven,” I said breathlessly.

I watched him nod through the glass as the other students walked away. He then walked toward the ice rink door and gestured for me to come closer.

“Clark Wilson, right?” he asked.

Clark Wilson was the fake name I had come up with. A new identity meant a new name, right?

I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

His eyes scanned me from head to toe. “You’re a bit too tiny for a boy,” he remarked, but a smile tugged at his lips before he continued, “but you have mad skills.”

I smiled back.

“We haven’t made a final decision yet, kid, so you can wipe that smile off your face. But what do you say about practicing with the team tomorrow after school? Let’s see how well you do with them,” he said.

I blinked. Was I getting in or not?

“Yes, of course,” I replied excitedly.

He nodded. “Change out of your sports attire and head back to your dorm.” He patted my shoulder gently and began to walk off.

I ran to the boys’ locker room with excitement bubbling inside me.

There was actually a chance. The coach saw potential. Years of hard work had not gone to waste.

As I walked into the boys’ locker room, the other boys sat shirtless on the benches, but the place instantly fell silent as soon as they noticed me.

I stood at the door. The air grew thick with awkwardness as the boys slowly started putting their clothes back on. I walked quietly to the bench where I had left my clothes.

Through the mirror in front of me, I saw the boys whispering to each other, their eyes locked on me.

Were they gossiping about me?

A wave of uneasiness washed over me. I’m sure they weren’t talking about me. They knew nothing about me. I was just being paranoid. My cover wasn’t blown… right?

My hands trembled as I clutched my clothes tightly. I turned my head to face them and forced a smile. “It’s nice to meet you guys,” I said, trying to sound friendly. “Do you guys want to hang out later, maybe?”

The boys exchanged glances.

“What are you, stupid?” one of them asked.

I took a step back. “What?” My voice was barely above a whisper.

“Who wants to be seen outside with a wimpy little boy like you?” The boy who spoke stood up and began walking toward me. He was huge, shirtless, with brown hair and grey eyes, and a stern expression on his face.

Was he even eighteen? How was he so big?

He reached for me and grabbed my arm so tightly I winced in pain.

“Hey, Conner, leave him alone,” another boy said.

“It’s insulting to know that a boy like this is competing with me for a spot,” Conner growled. “He’s weak. If you played hockey for an hour, you’d faint.”

“But don’t you think that’s his business?” the other boy asked.

Conner’s head snapped back. “Shut up, Parker!”

The whole room fell silent. They seemed scared of him.

Conner suddenly swung me around, and my back slammed into the locker beside me. “Argh!” I shouted as pain shot through me.

He moved closer and gripped my neck. “You listen to me, you twig. Whether it’s possible or not, you better hope you don’t make the team. Or else…” He slid his finger across his neck. “You’re dead.”

My whole body shook.

He pulled away and looked at the other boys. “You all are,” he shouted, grabbed his shirt, and stormed out.

My chest rose and fell rapidly. I placed a shaky hand against the locker for support.

The boys hissed in annoyance as they finished changing and walked out of the locker room.

The boy who had defended me earlier stopped and looked at me. “You’re new here, right?” he asked, but didn’t wait for a response. “It’s best if you stay out of Conner’s way. He gets whatever he wants. And if he says he wants that spot? You better not take it.”

My brows pinched together. “S-so if you get called back, you won’t accept it?”

He smirked. “Werewolves heal fast, but we still feel the pain when our bones break. I think I can do without the hockey team.” He adjusted his bag on his shoulder and walked out.

I sucked in a deep breath and walked over to sit on one of the benches. I lowered myself onto it and covered my eyes with my hands.

Why hadn’t I thought about bullies?

I had dealt with them in every school I’d gone to. Why would it be any different now, just because I was posing as a boy?

As I sat there deep in thought, my phone suddenly buzzed. I picked it up and saw a text from the coach.

“Congratulations! You made it into the school’s hockey team! Be at the ice rink after school tomorrow to be introduced to the team and begin practice. We are looking forward to meeting you!”

The rest of the text blurred.

I got in?

I didn’t know if I should be happy…

…or scared.

It was a chance to find out why William actually wanted to quit hockey.

But… Conner would kill me.

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