The Hockey captain’s scandalous Luna

MILA

I lay still on my thin mattress and stared at the ceiling of my tiny dorm room. My mind kept counting the money I had left. It was the same worry that woke me every morning.

I reached under my pillow and pulled out my old wallet. The bills inside were wrinkled and soft from too many times of being counted. I spread them on the bed and counted again. One, two, three small bills. That was all. Not enough for a real dinner. Not enough for the dorm fees that were due next week. My chest felt tight. If I lost this room, I would have nowhere to go.

I got dressed in the dark so I would not wake Janet. My clothes were clean but old. The sleeves of my sweater had small holes I had tried to hide with careful stitches. I packed my secondhand textbooks into my worn backpack. The straps were frayed and the zipper stuck sometimes, but it was all I had.

Janet sat up when she heard me moving. She rubbed her eyes and held out a packet of biscuits. “Mila, eat something. You skipped dinner last night.”

I forced a small smile. “I’m not hungry. Really. You keep them.”

She looked at me for a moment like she did not believe me, but she did not push. I slipped out the door before she could ask more questions. My stomach growled the second I stepped into the hallway. I pressed my hand against it and kept walking.

The campus of Silvercrest Royal University looked like something from a storybook in the early light. Tall stone buildings with shiny windows rose all around me. Perfect green lawns stretched between them. Students who lived in the rich dorms were already outside, laughing in groups, holding expensive coffee cups, wearing new jackets that cost more than I earned in a month. I kept my head down and walked faster. My shoes made soft sounds on the path while their fancy sneakers stayed quiet and clean.

I was one of the top students here. My grades were high. But every day I felt like I did not belong. The other students spent more money on lunch than I made in a whole day of work. They talked about family trips and new cars. I talked to no one about money because I had none to talk about.

Between my first two lectures I stayed behind to help a girl who was crying over a math problem. Her name was Lily. She kept saying she would fail. I sat with her and explained the steps slowly until her face lit up with understanding. “You’re so kind,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

I only nodded. Kindness cost nothing. Later, on the way to the café, I saw a wallet lying open on the grass near a bench. Money peeked out of it. For one second my heart jumped. That money could buy me food for days. Then I picked it up, closed it, and looked around until I found the boy who had dropped it. His eyes went wide when I handed it back. “You didn’t take anything?” he asked, surprised.

“It’s yours,” I said simply, and walked away before he could say more. My hands shook a little. I was hungry. But taking what did not belong to me would make me someone I did not want to be.

Mocking words followed me like they always did. Two girls from a rich pack walked past and whispered just loud enough for me to hear. “Look at her bag. It’s falling apart. Scholarship kids should stay in their own corner.” I kept my face calm and did not answer. 

By the time I reached the campus café my feet already ached. The place was busy and warm and full of the smell of coffee and baked bread. I tied on my apron and started taking orders. I smiled at every customer even when my legs hurt and my empty stomach twisted. “One latte, please.” “Extra foam, thank you.” “Have a nice day.” The same polite words over and over.

I was wiping the counter when the door opened and a wave of excitement rolled through the café. The elite hockey players walked in. Everyone turned to look. At the front was Seun Revencrest. He was tall and calm. His dark eyes scanned the room once and then settled. People said he would be the next Alpha of the Revencrest Pack. He moved like someone who already knew his place in the world. Beside him walked his stepbrother Aaron. Aaron was smiling and waving at girls who called his name. He looked happy and free in a way I could never imagine.

I barely glanced at them. Boys like that belonged to a different world. A world of big houses and future titles and money that never ran out. I went back to making coffee. 

I served three more customers. And went about my day.

Then I felt eyes on me.

Across the café, Sharon Vaughn was staring. She sat with a group of girls who always followed her. Sharon was the daughter of another powerful Alpha family. She wore perfect clothes and perfect makeup and a smile that never reached her eyes when she looked at people like me. Days earlier in class she had laughed when I answered a question with an old notebook that had water stains on the cover. She had said, loud enough for everyone to hear, that poor students should at least try to look less pathetic.

Now that same cruel smile was growing on her face again. She stood up slowly. Her friends watched her with interest. She walked toward my counter like she had all the time in the world. Each step made my heart beat faster. I kept wiping the same clean spot on the counter so my hands would have something to do.

The café noise seemed to fade a little. I could hear my own breathing. I could feel the ache in my feet and the empty space in my stomach and the weight of the dorm fees that were coming. Sharon stopped right in front of me. Her perfume was sweet and strong. She looked me up and down the way someone looks at something they plan to throw away.

Her smile turned colder.

“Well,” she said, her voice clear and sharp so everyone nearby could hear, “if it isn’t Silvercrest’s favorite charity case.”