What’s Dog Pound?
AUBREY
Ohmygod
I have video
Brace yourself
A link appears. I hesitate, then tap.
The clip loads—a replay from some student account. Kieran streaks down the right side, cuts in, quick hands, top shelf. The arena roars through my phone, bright enough to prickle behind my eyes.
He circles the net. Slows. Taps his glove over his heart. Lifts his chin toward the student section.
Toward where I’d been standing.
Aubrey’s calling now. “I thought he was fixing his pads,” I say.
Aubrey is shrieking, voice so bright I hold the phone away. “You thought he was— Wren. When a campus hockey star points at you, it’s not a pad adjustment.”
“He’s not—” I start.
“You wore his jersey. You. Wore. His. Jersey.” She drops to a scandalized whisper. “Do you understand what that means?”
No.
I watch the clip again. The tap. The look, like the rest of the arena doesn’t exist.
My pulse kicks hard. I can suddenly feel every eye that was on me last night.
“I wore it thinking maybe Theo would notice,” I say weakly.
“Forget Theo. You wore a jersey that says O’CONNOR across the back in giant letters.” A beat. “That’s not merch, Wren. That’s a claim.”
My chest does something complicated. “We’re fake dating. It’s optics.”
“That wasn’t for Theo. That was foryou.” A pause. “Did he kiss you after?”
“What? No.”
Another beat. “Did you want him to?”
“I want to pass Engineering 204,” I say, standing up. “Can we discuss my fictional love life later?”
“Fictional,” she snorts. “Text me when you’re done pretending you’re not falling for him.”
“I’m not?—”
She hangs up.
I stare at the frozen frame of Kieran with his hand over his heart, something warm and terrifying blooming in my chest.
Focus, I tell myself.
My phone buzzes again. Larisa’s face fills the screen the second I answer—too close, upside down.
“I got a discount code.”
