The Captain and the Broken Girl

Casey's POV

I arrive at Northbridge University with one suitcase and a plan. Stay invisible.

The campus is louder than I expected, music blasts near the fountain, groups of students shout across the courtyard like they already belong here and parents hang around with cameras and xpensive cars line the road.

I keep my head down and walk straight. My jeans are faded and sneakers are worn at the soles, the strap of my bag digs into my shoulder but I don’t adjust it. Drawing attention is a mistake and attention leads to questions and questions lead to problems.

My phone buzzes. I stop walking immediately. I already know who it is. Rita: Remember who paid for your tuition. Do not embarrass us.

Another message follows. Rebecca: Stay out of my way today.

I slide the phone back into my pocket without replying. Rebecca has probably already claimed half this campus, she always does. She walks into a place and somehow everyone rearranges themselves around her. I move toward the outer edge of the courtyard instead of cutting through the center. Athletes gather near the grass and sorority girls laugh too loudly by the fountain, everyone looks confident, like they were born knowing where to stand.

I don’t belong in the middle.

I find the dorm assignment board outside Wilcox Hall. A crowd presses against it. People yell when they spot their room numbers. Some cry and some celebrate.

I wait until the crowd thins before stepping forward. Room 304, third floor. I take the stairs because elevators trap you in small spaces with strangers. I don’t like small spaces with strangers when I reach my room, I unlock it and step inside.

Empty.

Relief settles in my chest. Two beds, two desks and one narrow window. No decorations yet and no signs of personality.

I choose the bed furthest from the door without thinking. I unpack quickly. Three shirts, two pairs of jeans, one hoodie, my laptop, my textbooks and an envelope of cash I have hidden for months when I bend to slide the envelope into the bottom drawer, pain shoots through my side.

I press my palm against my ribs and inhale slowly. It still hurts when I breathe too deeply. I should have gone to a doctor but that would have raised questions and questions are dangerous.

Voices explode in the hallway. Male voices, loud and confident.

I stiffen.

I step closer to the door and crack it open slightly. Three large guys walk down the hallway wearing practice gear broad shoulders and easy laughter and then I see him.

Chris Lewis.

Even if I didn’t recognize him from campus posts and Rebecca’s endless bragging, I would know he is in charge. He moves like the place belongs to him the others adjust around him without even realizing they are doing it. Dark brown hair, gray eyes and solid build that comes from actual work not a gym membership for photos.

Someone calls out, “Captain.”

He nods once but doesn’t smile. He doesn’t have to. I close the door before he can notice me watching. I tell myself that men like him don’t see girls like me and if they do, it’s accidental.

I grab my schedule and leave the dorm before my roommate arrives and I want to memorize the campus layout before the halls get crowded.

By the time I reach the courtyard again, it’s chaos, music, flyers shoved into my hands and students asking about clubs and sign-ups.

Halfway across the grass, someone slams into my shoulder hard enough to make me stumble. “Watch it,” a familiar voice snaps.

I look up. Rebecca stands in front of me like she owns the ground beneath us. Her blonde hair is perfect, her outfit looks like it came straight off a display mannequin. Two girls stand behind her, watching.

“Hi,” I say carefully.

She looks me up and down slowly. “You wore that?” she asks disgust clear in her tone.

“It’s just class.”

“It’s embarrassing.” She steps closer. “You know the rules,” she says quietly. “Stay on the academic side of campus. Stay away from the rink and stay away from my friends.”

I nod once.

“And stay away from Chris.”

I didn’t even say his name. “I wasn’t planning—”

Her fingers grip my arm suddenly right where the bruise is pain spikes through me sharp and hot but I don’t react. I learned a long time ago that reacting makes it worse.

“Do not embarrass this family,” she says softly. “You have already cost us enough.” She lets go and walks away her friends laughing behind her.

I stand still for a moment, waiting for the shaking in my hands to stop then I head toward my first lecture. The lecture hall is huge and smells like coffee and plastic seats.

I choose a seat in the back row because it’s easier to disappear there. Students fill in around me, talking about internships and vacation homes. They sound relaxed like this is just another step in a life that already makes sense.

Halfway through the lecture, the door opens and the room changes instantly whispers spread. “Lewis.”

“Captain.”

I keep my eyes forward.

Heavy footsteps move up the aisle then the seat next to me creaks I glance sideways before I can stop myself. Chris Lewis drops into the chair beside me. He sets his bag down and leans back like he belongs here more than the professor does.

I focus on my notes, hoping he won’t notice me. My pen slips from my fingers and rolls toward him I reach for it at the same time he bends down to grab it and our heads nearly collide. “Sorry,” he says.

“It’s fine.” When I sit back up, he is looking at me directly, not casually and not absentmindedly almost like he is assessing something.

His eyes shifts to my arm, the sleeve has ridden up slightly, revealing the faint outline of bruising and I tug it down quickly.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly.

The question catches me off guard. “Yes,” I answer immediately.

He doesn’t look convinced. He hands me the pen when our fingers brush briefly, my body reacts before I can stop it. I pull my hand back too fast, breath catching in my throat. His eyes narrow slightly, he noticed.

I take the pen again, slower this time. “Thanks,” I say.

“You’re welcome.” He keeps watching me for another second before turning back toward the front of the room. The lecture drags on. I feel every second of him sitting beside me when class ends, students rush toward the exit but I stay seated until the aisle clears.

I stand and move toward the stairs. “Hey.”

I stop. He is standing behind me close enough that I have to tilt my head slightly to look at him. “What?”

“You look like you are about to bolt every time someone talks to you.”

“I’m not.”

He studies my face like he is searching for cracks. “What is your name?” he asks.

“Casey.”

His expression shifts immediately. “Roosevelt?”

I nod.

“You are Rebecca’s sister.”

“Yes.”

He looks surprised. “You don’t look like her.”

“Good,” I say before thinking and for a second, he almost smiles but then Rebecca’s voice cuts through the noise. “Chris!”

She walks toward us from the doorway, confident and composed. Her eyes lock on the space between us as she slides her hand into his. “Ready for practice?” she asks sweetly.

He doesn’t answer right away. He is still looking at me and Rebecca notices her grip tightens.

“I should go,” I say.

I step past them halfway to the door, I feel it, that stare.

I turn and Chris is still watching me his gray eyes locked on mine across the lecture hall. Rebecca follows his gaze and sees exactly what I see.

Her face hardens but he doesn’t look away when she tugs his hand or says his name again. He keeps staring at me like he just realized something and in that moment, I understand one thing clearly.

The most powerful guy on campus just noticed me and Rebecca saw it.

I walk out of the lecture hall knowing one thing for certain. This was not part of the plan and something just changed.