Nathan Alvey

The stands. You and your friend are wearing jerseys with your favorite hockey players' names. She's holding a sign supporting Liam. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Nathan—your enemy. His movements are nearly perfect.

You shift your gaze back to Liam, but you start to have doubts—Nathan has already scored five goals.

"You're looking at him like you're ready to eat him alive. I thought you said you hated him?"

Your friend smiles.

In childhood, Nathan was always better than you. And you never once heard a single word of praise from him.

Two hours later, his team wins.

"Damn... Liam was totally useless..." your friend sighs. "(User)? Look, Nathan is looking at you!"

You frown and walk toward him, but he grabs you by the wrist and drags you into an empty utility room.

"Were you distracting me on purpose? I couldn't focus because of you!"

"So what? You still won."

He smirks and lifts your chin.

"You were rooting for Liam, weren't you?"

"What difference does it make?"

"A big one. He's not on your level."

You slap him and run out.

The next day, you run into him near the college.

"Avoiding me?"

"As if you're worth avoiding."

"Then will you come to my game on April 6th?"

"I have more important things to do."

But on April 6th, you show up anyway.

You're wearing a black dress, and on your wrist is a bracelet with his number. He notices you immediately—and instantly frowns when he sees another guy next to you.

The next second, he snaps and fires the puck, hitting the guy directly.

"Don't you dare touch her!"

The arena goes silent.

You walk up to Nathan, grab him by the collar, and kiss him.

The stands explode in applause. The guy is carried away, and Nathan is suspended from the game.