A TUTOR TO THE HOCKEY BULLY

Blair pov

The lunch bell couldn’t come fast enough. All morning I’d been dodging glares—some hungry, some outright venomous. By the time it finally rang, I was already on my feet, backpack slung over one shoulder.

I didn’t even make it two steps.

A girl stepped directly into my path, hands planted on her waist, chin lifted like she ruled the world. She was pretty in that polished, mean-girl way—perfect hair, glossy lips, and eyes full of warning.

“You look new,” she said, voice deceptively sweet as she moved closer. “Let me give you some free advice. Don’t get any ideas about Tristan. That pretty face of yours won’t mean a thing. He has standards… and you’re nowhere near them.”

I blinked, completely lost. I’d only been at St. Louis Academy for a couple of days, and today was my actual first day of classes. Already, the place felt toxic.

I offered a tight smile. “Noted.”

When I tried to step around her, she slapped my hand away. “Don’t play dumb, Blair. I know who you are.”

She leaned in, her breath brushing my ear while the rest of the class watched like it was free entertainment.

“I’m Bella Nelson,” she whispered. “Tristan—the best hockey player this academy has ever seen—is my boyfriend. Stay away from him. Far away.”

She tucked a loose strand of my hair behind my ear like she was doing me a favor.

“I’m being nice today because you’re new. But if you offend me, honey… you won’t like what happens.”

I nodded once, jaw tight.

She finally stepped aside, leaning against my locker with a satisfied smirk. “Good girl. Now get lost.”

I started walking, but her fingers suddenly clamped around my arm and she shoved me hard into the lockers. The metal rattled.

“Not so fast.”

Something inside me snapped.

I grabbed her wrist, twisted it, and slammed her back against the locker instead. Our faces were inches apart.

“Listen, Princess Barbie,” I said, voice low and steady despite the anger surging through me. “I don’t know your prince charming, and I don’t care. But attacking a total stranger on her first day? That’s not confidence. That’s pathetic.”

A ripple of shocked gasps swept through the room. Bella’s eyes widened.

She jerked her head at her friends. They rushed forward, snatched my backpack, and tossed it out the classroom door like trash.

I laughed—short, sharp, and cold—then fisted a handful of her perfectly styled hair and yanked. She shrieked.

“Get your hands off me, you psycho!” she cried. “You’re such a bully!”

“Tell your little minions to bring my backpack back,” I ordered, tightening my grip just enough. “Exactly as it was. Neat. Now.”

“Okay! Okay!” she yelped. “Go get it! Fix it and bring it back—hurry up!”

Minutes later, my backpack was returned, everything neatly rearranged and placed carefully inside my locker. I released her hair and stepped back, brushing my hands together.

Bella glared at me, breathing heavily, her perfect image slightly cracked.

“This isn’t over, Blair,” she hissed. “No one has ever touched me like that. You’re going to pay for this. Maybe with an expulsion.”

I held her stare for a beat longer, then grabbed my backpack and walked out without another word.

The moment I stepped outside, the cold breeze slapped against my face. The compound was packed with students laughing, talking, living their normal lives. I checked my watch and cursed softly—only ten minutes left for lunch.

The walk to the cafeteria was quiet, but the second I pushed through the doors, the murmurs started. Heads turned. Whispers followed me like smoke.

“She’s the one who went against Bella…”

“Girl’s either brave or stupid…”

I kept my eyes on the floor until I found an empty table near the back and sat down. Only then did I realize I still hadn’t gotten any food.

I walked to the counter. An elderly woman with kind eyes smiled at me.

“Good afternoon, ma’am. Baked potatoes, please.”

“Coming right up, darling.”

A few minutes later, I returned with the tray and was about to sit when the entire cafeteria changed. The noise didn’t die completely, but it dipped into something heavier. Expectant.

A tall shadow fell across my table.

“What are you doing in my space?”

The voice was low, calm, and carried enough weight to make the air feel thinner.

My head snapped up.

Time slowed.

He stood there like the room belonged to him. He had to be at least 6’3”, with broad, powerful shoulders that strained against the blue hockey jersey. The fabric clung to his well-defined chest and arms, hinting at the sculpted muscle underneath. His dark hair was damp and slightly tousled, a few strands falling over his forehead as if he’d just come from an intense practice session. Sharp, chiseled jawline, full lips pressed into a hard line, and piercing steel-gray eyes that cut straight through me—cold, calculating, and dangerously intense. There was something almost predatory about the way he carried himself, like a wolf that had just spotted its next target.

Behind him, a small group of guys in matching jerseys stood like silent backup, their presence alone shifting the energy in the room.

I forced myself to stay seated, even as my pulse hammered wildly.

“Your space?” I asked, glancing pointedly at the empty chair. “I got here first. It was empty when I sat down.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw.

“Move,” he said. One word. No room for argument.

My fingers tightened around the edge of the tray.

Every instinct screamed at me to stand up and walk away. But I didn’t.

“I’m eating,” I replied, voice steady even though my heart was racing. “You can find somewhere else.”

Gasps rippled across the cafeteria.

His eyes darkened, something lethal flashing through them.

In one fluid motion, his hand shot out and slammed the edge of my tray. The plate flew off, crashing onto the floor with a loud, sickening shatter. Baked potatoes scattered everywhere.

My last bit of money—ruined.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

I stared at the mess for a long second, fighting the sting in my eyes and the knot in my throat.

Don’t cry. Not here. Not in front of him.

Slowly, I rose to my feet and lifted my chin, refusing to let his height intimidate me.

“I’m not leaving this cafeteria,” I said clearly, meeting his cold gaze head-on, “until you replace my meal. Exactly as it was… Mr. Man.”

He took one slow step closer, towering over me. The corner of his mouth twitched—not quite a smile, but something far more dangerous. His steel-gray eyes bored into mine, voice dropping even lower, almost a growl.

“You have no idea who you’re talking to, do you?”

The entire cafeteria seemed to hold its breath. My heart slammed against my ribs as I stared back at him, refusing to flinch.

And then he leaned in, so close I could feel the heat radiating from his body and catch the faint scent of ice and sweat.

“Big mistake, new girl.”