The Hockey Star Player In My School

Chapter One – The Challenge

Mila’s POV

I held my hockey stick tight, my palms slick with sweat. The cold air bit into my skin, but my body felt hot—too hot. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears.

Today was the day I would face Cole Hayes.

The name alone made people nervous.

Cole Hayes.

The best hockey player in Northshore Academy.

Cold. Feared. Untouchable.

Everyone talked about him. Everyone admired him. And no one—no one—had ever dared challenge him.

Until now.

I stepped onto the field slowly, my skates scraping softly against the ice. The sun hit the rink just right, making the surface shine like glass. It felt like a stage, and I was standing right in the center of it. Students crowded around the sidelines, their voices blending into a low, buzzing noise.

“She’s the new girl.”

“Does she even know how to skate properly?”

“She’s going to embarrass herself.”

Their words crawled under my skin.

I swallowed and straightened my back. I refused to look scared. I had been in bigger arenas than this. Louder crowds. Tougher opponents. But somehow, this felt different. This wasn’t just about hockey. This was about pride.

About proving I belonged here.

I scanned the field—and saw him.

Cole was already there.

He leaned casually on his stick, tall and relaxed, like this whole thing bored him. His posture was perfect. His expression calm. His blue eyes slid over me slowly, like he was measuring me, already certain of the result.

My throat went dry.

He pushed himself off the ice and skated closer, stopping just a few feet away from me.

“Seems like you’re very confident,” he said. His voice was low, sharp, and carried easily across the rink. “Just because you’ve played internationally doesn’t mean you can win here.”

A few people laughed.

I felt my chest tighten, but I lifted my chin. “Mr. Hayes,” I said, forcing my voice to stay steady, “this game isn’t always about skill. Sometimes, it’s about luck. Let’s just play and leave.”

For a moment, he just stared at me.

Then he laughed.

It wasn’t loud, but it was enough to make my stomach flip. “Luck?” His eyes glinted like ice. “No. This game isn’t luck. It’s skill. Whoever plays better… wins.”

I tightened my grip on my stick.

Fine. Then I’ll play better.

He tilted his head slightly. “Since you’re so confident,” he said, “let’s make it interesting. A bet.”

My heart skipped. “A bet?”

He nodded. “Money.”

My cheeks heated. “I… I don’t have money.”

That was all it took.

Laughter exploded around us. I heard whispers. Mocking voices. Someone scoffed loudly.

“So she’s poor and bold?”

“She really thought she could challenge Cole?”

I wanted the ice to swallow me whole—but I refused to step back.

Cole chuckled, amused. “No money?” he said. “That’s fine. We’ll find something else.”

I hesitated. Every instinct screamed at me to stop. To walk away. But something in his eyes—his confidence, his certainty—pushed me forward.

“If you win,” I said suddenly, my voice trembling just a little, “I’ll date you for six months.”

The crowd went quiet.

“And if I win,” I continued, my heart racing, “you obey me for six months. Starting with carrying my bag to school every day.”

The silence shattered.

Gasps. Laughter. Shouts.

“Did she just say that?”

“She’s insane!”

“She wants Cole Hayes to carry her bag?”

Cole blinked once. Then slowly, a smirk curved his lips.

“You didn’t tell me you had an eye on me,” he said, amused. “But fine. Challenge accepted. At least you’ll be fun to date.”

My hands were shaking.

I had just challenged Cole Hayes.

And he had accepted.

The whistle blew.

The game started fast.

Cole moved like the ice belonged to him. Sharp turns. Clean strikes. Every move confident and precise. He was good—better than I expected. But I refused to fall behind.

I chased him, blocked him, matched his speed. My lungs burned. My legs screamed. Sweat blurred my vision.

“You’re slower than I thought,” he said as he passed me.

I didn’t answer. I pushed harder.

The crowd roared with every move. Every clash of sticks echoed in my chest. My arms ached, but I kept going. I had to.

Then, suddenly, the puck slipped free.

Time slowed.

I didn’t think. I swung.

The puck flew straight into the goal.

For a second, no one breathed.

Then—

Gasps.

Cole froze. His eyes widened. His jaw went slack.

The crowd went silent.

I stood there, chest heaving, hands shaking—not from fear, but from shock.

I had won.

Whispers exploded around us.

“She beat him.”

“Cole Hayes lost.”

I looked at him. He stared back at me, his expression unreadable.

Shock. Respect. Something else.

And in that moment, I knew—

This wasn’t just a game anymore.

This was only the beginning.