Break Me Softly

PEARL’S POV

“Pearl! If you’re late again, I’m cutting hours off your shift!”

My manager’s voice blasts through my phone while freezing air hits my face hard enough to sting.

“I’m coming!” I gasp, nearly losing grip of the coffee tray balanced against my hip.

“You said that ten minutes ago!” Because ten minutes ago my bus decided to die in the middle of traffic.

Snow crunches beneath my shoes while students move around me laughing, arguing, barely paying attention to anything outside their own lives. Meanwhile I’m sprinting toward the student café at eight in the morning running on caffeine and bad decisions.

My phone vibrates again. Gift, I answer breathlessly. “If this is another speech about sleep, I swear….”

“You sound like somebody chasing a moving train.”

“I’m late for work.”

“You’re always late for work because your schedule is insane.” I shove through the café doors exactly as Mrs. Lewis notices me. Her eyes narrow immediately. “You look exhausted.”

“Good morning to you too.”

“I’m serious, Pearl. You look like you fought demons overnight.” I force a smile while tying my apron behind my back. “College is magical.”

Gift snorts through the phone. “Your sarcasm is getting worse.” Mrs. Lewis points toward the counter. “Move before the hockey team gets here.”

My mood drops instantly. The Ravenhawks practically live inside this café during hockey season. Loud boys with too much confidence and girls constantly hovering around them before class even starts.

Gift notices the silence. “You made the face again.”

“What face?”

“The ‘I hate everybody’ face.”

“I don’t hate everybody.”

“You definitely hate somebody.” I grab coffee cups from the shelf. “Depends on the day.”

Rush hour hits hard after that. Orders pile across the counter while students crowd near the registers complaining about classes and breakups.

Somebody spills iced coffee near pickup and Mrs. Lewis nearly loses her mind. “If one more person drops something today, I’m quitting.”

“You say that every Tuesday,” I tell her while sliding another drink across the counter. “Because every Tuesday tests my faith in humanity.” A laugh slips out before I can stop it.

Then the hockey team walks in. The noise level inside the café doubles immediately. Players in Ravenhawks jackets spread through the room laughing loudly while half the girls near the windows suddenly sit straighter.

Gift groans through my earbuds. “Tell me they aren’t there.”

“They’re here.”

“Oh, RIP.” One of the players leans against the counter smiling at me. “Five iced coffees. Two black. One extra caramel.”

“You guys know water exists, right?” He grins wider. “Sounds fake.”

Then the room shifts slightly. Davis Ford just walked in, I notice him immediately. Black hoodie, Messy dark hair. Hockey bag hanging from one shoulder while teammates keep talking around him.

But Davis barely joins the conversation. He moves through the café looking irritated already, like the day exhausted him before it even started.

A girl near the window whispers, “Holy shit.” Another immediately fixes her lip gloss using her phone camera. I almost roll my eyes.

Davis steps toward the counter while checking something on his phone. His expression tightens afterward like whatever message he read annoyed him instantly.

“You’re staring,” Gift says suddenly.

“I’m literally not.”

“You always get defensive when you are.”

Davis finally looks up. For one awkward second, our eyes meet accidentally. He doesn’t look the way people describe him online.

Mrs. Lewis suddenly shoves a muffin tray toward me. “Table six.” One of the players notices me first. “Damn, lifesaver.”

“Barely.” A few of them laugh. Davis finally looks up from his phone when I set the tray down.

Close up, the bruise near his jaw looks worse than I expected. And weirdly enough, he notices me noticing it. “Thanks,” he says quietly. His voice catches me off guard. Lower than expected. “You’re welcome.”

Then one teammate behind me says, “Ford’s in a terrifying mood today, so if he murders somebody during the game tonight, we apologize in advance.”Another player snorts. “That’s not even funny.”

“It was a little funny.” Davis drags a hand down his face already looking irritated. “Can you all shut the hell up for like five minutes?”

The table goes quieter after that. By the time my shift ends, I already feel drained.

Unfortunately my day is far from over. I still have classes, research hours, and university event duty tonight at the Ravenhawks rivalry game.

Westbridge University looks annoyingly beautiful in winter. Huge glass buildings reflect gray skies while students crowd sidewalks wrapped in expensive coats and school colors.

Ravenhawks banners hang everywhere across campus, and right in the middle of most of them is Davis Ford.

Avoiding him at Westbridge is basically impossible. His interviews play across giant screens inside the student center while girls nearby talk about him loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Oh my God, he looked so hot in that interview yesterday.” The other girl laughs. “Davis Ford could literally ruin my life and I’d thank him.”

I nearly choke on my coffee. By afternoon, exhaustion presses behind my eyes while Professor Hernandez lectures calmly at the front of the room.

Gift nudges my arm lightly. “You disappeared again.”

“I’m listening.”

“No, you’re physically here but not mentally.”

“I’m tired.” Her expression softens slightly. “If you collapse in public, I’m leaving you there because I already warned you.”

I laugh quietly. “That sounds expensive.” Gift shakes her head. “You seriously need help.”

“Probably.” By evening, the hockey arena already feels chaotic before the game even starts.

Music blasts through speakers while students scream from packed stands covered in black and silver Ravenhawks jerseys. The air smells like sweat, beer, and ice.

I stand near the tunnel entrance organizing event paperwork when I notice him again.

Davis Ford, even surrounded by teammates, he stands out immediately. His jaw keeps tightening every few seconds, and whenever Lakeside’s captain skates near him, something flashes across his face fast enough most people probably wouldn’t notice it.

One event worker beside me sighs. “Ford looks ready to kill somebody tonight.” The game turns ugly fast.

Hits become rougher. Players shove each other harder after whistles. The crowd gets louder every minute while Ryan Mercer keeps going after Davis again and again.

Then Ryan slams him violently into the boards. The sound cracks through the arena hard enough to make me flinch.

Gloves hit the ice. Players crash into each other while the crowd screams loud enough to shake the glass around the rink.

Security rushes forward too late and in the middle of all of it is Davis. Dragged toward the tunnel while he fights against their grip.

Then he shouts something furious I can’t fully hear over the noise and before I can stop myself……“Stop acting like you’re proving something!”

Everything goes still, Davis freezes. His head turns toward me instantly, and for one strange second the anger on his face disappears completely.

The noise around us fades strangely while security still grips his arms tightly, but Davis barely seems to notice anymore. He’s just staring at me and for some reason, I can’t look away either.