Reya
By the time we got to the party, it was nearly eleven. Music pounded through the house, reverberating through the wooden floors, and voices shouted over one another like a chaotic symphony. I followed Genevieve into the crowd, my patience already thin. She was the reason we were late—changing her outfit no less than five times and then spending another half hour on her eyeliner.
"Damn, there's a lot of people here, Geni," I muttered, stepping over a pile of discarded jackets near the front door. The smell of beer, sweat, and cheap cologne assaulted my nose.
Genevieve didn't respond, her sharp eyes already scanning the sea of bodies. "There. I see Stevie," she said, her voice rising slightly with excitement.
I followed her gaze to the corner of the living room, where Stevie was standing with Liv, Marie, and—wait. Someone new. My steps faltered for half a beat. The girl standing next to them was unfamiliar. Petite but strong-looking, with olive skin and dark hair pulled into a neat half up half down. Her posture was cautious like she wasn't sure what to do with her hands.
"Who's that?" I mumbled to myself, apparently because Genevieve was already weaving through the crowd like she owned the place. With a sigh, I followed her, careful not to bump into anyone. My free hand clutched the edge of my black jacket, the vodka cranberry in my other hand dangerously close to sloshing over the rim.
"Hey!" Stevie's cheerful voice cut through the noise when we finally reached them. Her grin was wide, and she immediately pulled Geni into a hug. "It's about time you two showed up."
"Yeah, blame her," I said, tipping my head toward Genevieve. Stevie laughed, and I forced a polite smile. I couldn't summon more than that right now.
Geni jumped right into cheerful hellos, her energy unbothered by the chaotic scene. I stayed quiet, managing a polite smile for Stevie and Marie while holding onto my vodka cranberry like a lifeline. I didn't have enough alcohol in me yet for small talk.
"Hey, this is my friend Zora," Liv spoke up, her tone warm and proud. "She just transferred from NYU."
That caught my attention. I turned my gaze to the girl—Zora. She looked a little unsure of herself, tucked into the edge of the group with her hands curled around a red solo cup. Olive skin, dark hair, big brown eyes. She smiled faintly, but something about her unsettled me.
"Yeah, she's joining our hockey team, actually," Stevie added as if the news wasn't already rattling in my head. "Sophomore. Played for NYU, and—oh, she was team captain as a freshman."
There it was. Competition. This wasn't just some random girl trying to make friends. She was competition. Real, tangible competition.
A tight knot formed in my stomach as the weight of that sentence hit me. I'd been captain for the past two years, and I'd worked my ass off to get there. Now some transfer student was swooping in with her "team captain" title and freshman-year glory? Over my dead body. However, I'd be lying if I didn't say I was intimidated by her. NYU wasn't some rinky-dink program; you had to earn your spot on their team.
"I see," I said, my voice dripping with thinly-veiled attitude. "So you must've been pretty good then, huh?"
Zora shifted uncomfortably, her cheeks flushing pink as she laughed nervously. "Uh, yeah, I guess so."
Good. Be nervous, Zora. I thought to myself.
"Well," I said, shrugging as I turned to the group and I downed my full glass of vodka and cranberry juice. "I need another drink. Anyone want anything?"
"I'll come with you," Stevie said quickly, already sensing where this was headed. She saw right through me. She grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the kitchen– practically dragging me– before I could protest.
The second we were far enough away, Stevie whirled on me. Her eyebrows were drawn in frustration and I knew what was coming next. "What the hell was that, Reya?"
"What?" I said, feigning innocence as I grabbed the vodka and a bottle of cranberry juice.
Stevie shot me a glare. "You know what. The attitude with Zora."
I poured two drinks, keeping my face neutral. "I was being friendly."
Stevie scoffed. "Friendly? That's what you call that?" She crossed her arms, fixing me with that look. The one she always gives me when she knows I'm being difficult. "She's been through a lot, Reya. She lost her entire family. Her parents and sister. Do you really need to make her feel worse?"
I froze for a fraction of a second before resuming my drink-pouring. That was… unexpected. I didn't know. Not that it changed much. However, for a brief second, guilt chipped away at my resolve. But just as quickly, I shoved it aside.
"Fine," I muttered. "I'll be civil. But if she comes for my spot—my captain title— and my position it's over." I poured Stevie's drink and handed it to her. "No more Nice Reya."
Stevie rolled her eyes but took a sip. "I'll allow it. For now."
When we headed back to the group, I noticed Marcus standing with them, his easy grin directed at Zora as she laughed at something he'd said. My chest tightened.
Marcus wasn't mine. Not anymore. But two years of dating during our sophomore and junior years didn't just disappear overnight, and seeing him charm someone else—especially her—had me clenching my jaw.
"Hey, Reya," Marcus greeted me when I stepped up beside him, his voice smooth like always.
"Hey," I said coolly, sipping my drink. "Did we miss something?"
"Oh, not much," Marie interjected, rolling her eyes. "Just Marcus bragging about his last football game."
"Yeah, he was just telling us how he tripped one of the other players," Zora added, still smiling.
"Hm. How hilarious," I said dryly, though Marcus didn't seem to notice my sarcasm. My gaze shifted back to Zora. "So, Zora, what brings you to UVM?"
Stevie shot me a subtle warning look, but I ignored it, keeping my eyes locked on Zora.
Zora hesitated, her confidence faltering for just a second. "Uh, well… I just needed a change of scenery, and Liv offered to let me move in with her, Stevie, and Marie."
"Interesting," I said, though my tone didn't match the word. "Well, welcome. I hope to see you on the ice."
Stevie, ever the peacemaker, jumped in. "We actually have a practice tomorrow morning. You should come."
"Oh yes," I said with a sugary smile. "You definitely should. I'm running it. It's not mandatory, and Coach won't be there, but it'd be a great way to get familiar with the team."
Zora nodded enthusiastically, her nervous smile returning. "I'd love to."
"Great. See you at ten."
✰✰✰✰✰
The rink was ice-cold when I arrived the next morning, the air sharp against my face. I was used to the early practices. The quiet calm of the rink before everyone showed up, but today, something was off. I heard the faint clink of a puck hitting the post.
Who the hell…?
When I stepped inside, I froze. Zora was already on the ice, skating effortlessly back and forth as she launched puck after puck into the net. Her shots were precise, and her form was nearly perfect. I gripped my hockey bag tighter, my jaw clenching.
"How the hell did she get in here?" I muttered.
"Me," Coach said from behind me, startling me. I turned to see him standing with his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable. His gaze was focused on Zora. There was a look in his eye, curiosity? No. Admiration.
"Hey, Coach. I thought you weren't coming today."
"I wasn't supposed to, but my meeting got canceled. Speaking of cancellations, Reya, we need to talk about your calculus grade."
I tensed, pretending not to hear him. "What about it?"
Coach's voice was calm, yet firm. "You're still sitting at an F. I can't have my team captain flunking out. If you don't pass your next exam, which is tomorrow by the way, you're benched. Period."
I swallowed hard, trying to hide the panic bubbling inside me. I felt my stomach drop. Benched? That couldn't happen. That wasn't even an option. Not now. Not when Zora was already skating like she belonged here.
Coach must've seen the panic on my face because his tone softened ever so slightly. "Figure it out, Reya. Now suit up. You're still running practice."
"I'll get it up," I said quickly, ignoring what he said.
"Good. Because if you don't, someone else will take your spot. Someone like Zora."
I watched Zora glide effortlessly across the ice, my grip on my bag tightening. She was good. Too good. I headed to the locker room determined to show Zora exactly who she was up against.
I blew the whistle, watching as the players settled into their positions on the ice. I called for a scrimmage, positioning Zora to play against me at right wing. The whistle blew, and I watched her closely, determined to pick apart her weaknesses. If she wanted my spot, she was going to have to prove it.
The puck dropped, and Stevie took possession first, skating down the ice like a rocket. Zora trailed behind, her skates cutting sharp lines into the ice.
"Pass to Zora!" Macee called from the blue line.
Stevie hesitated, then sent a clean pass straight to Zora, who caught it mid-glide. My breath hitched as I watched her skate toward the net, her movements fluid, and confident. She wound up and launched the puck into the goal with a sound that echoed off the walls. The shot was perfect.
By the end of practice, I was impressed and more annoyed than ever. I couldn't deny it. Zora was good. Too good.
"You did well today," I said dryly as I walked up to her while she was undoing her skates.
She glanced up, her cheeks flushed with exertion and a faint smile on her face.
"Thanks," she said simply.
Stevie clapped her on the back, grinning. "You crushed it."
As everyone packed up and headed out, I lingered by the door, staring at Zora across the rink. She was competition, through and through. But no matter how good she was, there was no way in hell I was going to let her take what I'd worked so hard for.
The whole drive home my mind was racing. I had a calculus grade to fix, a spot to protect, and Zora to keep an eye on.
There was no way in hell I was going to my captaincy.