Faking It with My Hockey Alpha Roommate for 90 Days

Chapter One

The New Girl

Aria’s POV.*****

“If I failed here, my family would lose everything.”

The iron gates of North Ridge Sports Academy were taller than any castle wall I had ever seen. Even more beautiful in reality than I have seen in pictures. Never had I imagined that I would have the opportunity to finally get a chance to be a part of the academy after so many failed attempts and hopes. North Ridge is an academy exclusively for supernatural students, where wolf abilities are regulated during competitions.

The cab came to a stop, and the driver turned back to look at me.

"We are here, ma’am.” He said, in a polite tone. "Wishing you a great day ahead.”

I smiled at him and placed the fare in his outstretched palms and grabbed my suitcase. I stepped off the cab with one suitcase, scuffed at the corners, and wheels that squeaked as I dragged it over the cobblestone driveway. Around me, luxury cars purred to a stop. I was certain some of the cars here would pay my mother’s rent. Students climbed out with parents trailing behind them, assistants hauling matching luggage sets in sets of four, five, or six. Everyone wore sunglasses that cost more than my entire wardrobe, and that was when it finally dawned on me that I had gained a scholarship to the most prestigious academy.

I looked around to see if there was anyone looking lost just like me, but I was alone. Everyone was walking around, hugging, and engaging in little chitchat, and I could tell I might be the only new student here. I looked up at the billboards high up. Team leaders of different athletic departments were displayed on the screen. I wondered how it would feel to have my picture on this billboard.

My fingers found the edge of the scholarship letter in my jacket pocket, folded and refolded so many times that the creases had started to tear. I gripped it tighter.

Losing this scholarship wasn't an option. Without it, my brother's treatment would stop, and my mother would lose the roof over our heads.

This is my only chance, I told myself. And I’m not going to waste it.

The check-in line moved fast. When I reached the front, the staff member didn't look up from her clipboard. She slid a student ID across the counter, a room key, a glossy campus map, and an orientation schedule printed on thick cardstock.

"Room 412. Orientation for the new session starts at two. Make sure you don’t miss it.”

I murmured thanks and made my way to the dormitory. The elevator was broken, so I hauled my suitcase up four flights of stairs, arms burning by the time I reached the top. I unlocked the door, pushed it open, and found an empty space. Inside the room were two beds and two desks, with one side of the room completely bare. There were no posters or sport stickers anywhere on the wall to signify the presence of anyone in the room.

That meant only one thing. Whoever I’ll be sharing this room with hasn’t arrived yet.

Well, perfect then. I would get to choose which bed I’ll be sleeping in and my side of the room. And if I’m fast enough, I will be able to pick the design for the room.

I dropped my suitcase on the unclaimed bed, didn't bother unpacking, and locked the room behind me. Orientation is starting in twenty minutes, and for a student who is on scholarship, missing the orientation is not a way I want to start.

The auditorium was a cathedral of privilege. Vaulted ceilings and chandeliers made out of real crystals shone brightly above, and rows of velvet seats were filled with students who looked like they'd been born with gold in their hands. I found a seat near the back, wedged between a girl reviewing stock portfolios on her tablet and a guy complaining about the thread count of the dorm sheets.

The principal’s speech was exactly what you'd expect. Lots of talks on the school’s excellence, tradition, and legacy. I tuned out after the first five minutes and studied the campus map instead, tracing routes with my finger from the dining hall to the science building and the training facilities. If I was going to survive here, I needed to know this place better.

When the auditorium finally emptied, it emptied like a burst dam. Hundreds of students poured into the hallway, voices echoing off the marble floors, a sea of navy blazers and gold accents. I pressed myself against the wall and unfolded the campus map again, trying to orient myself. The dining hall was somewhere to the left. The science building was about a ten-minute walk away.

Someone slammed into my shoulder. As soon as his fingers brushed mine while catching the coffee cup, a strange warmth shot through my arm.

Hot liquid splashed across my chest and my hands, seeping through the thin fabric of my shirt.

I gasped, more from shock than pain, and looked up.

The guy in front of me was ridiculously handsome in that unfair, cinematic way with a sharp jawline, dark hair that fell just right, and eyes the color of storm clouds. He wore a black jacket with a team leader’s patch on the sleeve, a hockey stick embroidered in gold thread. The kind of face that made you forget what you were about to say. Around us, girls immediately leaned together, whispering behind manicured hands.

"Oh! She didn’t just bump into Luca Silver."

Silver... That name sounds familiar. Have I heard it somewhere before? I frowned. Whatever. I don't have time to think about that right now. I shrugged it off.

I didn't know who Luca was and why the girls were acting like I just bumped into a Greek god. He looked down at the dark stain spreading across his jacket, coffee dripping from the hem.

"Great. My favorite jacket."

I folded my arms, ignoring the wet fabric clinging to my skin. "Maybe watch where you're walking."

He smirked, a slow, arrogant tilt of his mouth. "What? We both know you walked into me."

I stepped closer, close enough to see the flecks of gold in his gray eyes, close enough that he had to look down to meet my gaze.

"Well, I’m pretty sure your ego got there first."

The hallway went silent. I could feel the weight of a hundred stares pressing against my back, heavy and disbelieving. Nobody talked to him like that. I could feel it in the air, thick and charged.

Luca Silver blinked once and then twice, in disbelief.

For some reason, my wolf stirred restlessly, and I don't understand why.