A Hockey Player's Guide To Deception

Chapter Three

Kayla's room was grand and somewhat more imposing that she expected. The wooden floors polished to a sheen from years of use. The room was outfitted with classic, sturdy wooden furniture—bed frames, desks, and wardrobes, all crafted from dark oak or mahogany. There was a balance between minimalism and functionality—each bed neatly made, with heavy woolen blankets in the traditional school colors, embroidered with the school's crest.  She stepped over to the window and glanced down at view, rows and rows of green fields stretched beautifully before her. 

She leaned her head against the glass pane and shut her eyes, trying to calm the uneasiness in her chest. It was all so new to her. The world outside this window, with its sprawling estates and polished cars, was miles away from the life she'd always known. Everyone around her seemed to carry an effortless aura of wealth and prestige, their clothes immaculate, their speech precise, their confidence unshaken. She had never known money, not like this. Her family had managed, living comfortably enough, but there were no luxuries, no extras. Most of her life had been spent juggling small jobs, saving every penny she earned. Now, in this new world, she felt like an imposter, a stranger trying to fit into a space that wasn't hers.

The sound of the door opening made her spin on her heels, heart racing, to face who she assumed would be her roommate. He was tall, with dark skin and thick black hair that fell in gentle waves around his face. His dark, bushy brows lifted in surprise, but the initial shock melted into a warm smile. It lit up his features, softening his presence, and despite her nerves, she felt a wave of warmth spread through her.

"Nathan Kingston, right?" He leaned back against the doorframe, eyes curious yet relaxed.

"Yes... How did you know my name?" she asked, a hint of skepticism creeping into her voice.

"Word travels fast around here." He said it casually, as he strolled over to his bed and plopped down with a tired sigh. "I'm exhausted," he muttered.

"I see," Kayla responded, still standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, not quite sure where to place herself. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, trying to mask her discomfort. "But how'd you figure out it was me, specifically?"

He lifted his head slightly, his gaze drifting over her lazily, but with unmistakable curiosity. "It's not every day we get one of the best student hockey players around here. Especially someone who skips the whole tryout process and just waltzes onto the team." He grinned a little at her raised eyebrow. "St. Thomas is not notorious for handing out scholarships, they are quite picky and the fact that you received one is pretty impressive. There's only one other person here on a scholarship."

"What's your name?" She steering the topic towards him.

"Ishaan Patel," he replied, offering an easy-going smile. Kayla nodded and walked over to her bed, sitting down with a sigh.

"How long have you been around here?" she asked, looking at him with interest.

"For as long as I can remember," he said, his gaze steady.

"So you're pretty familiar with the dynamics here, then?" Kayla leaned back on her elbows, a playful glint in her eye. "Got any advice for someone like me?"

Ishaan's smile fell into a thin line, though his eyes remained thoughtful. "Well, I'd say stick to the rules. Most people here are pretty chill and keep to themselves." He paused, as if weighing whether to share more. "But..."

"But what?" Kayla prompted, intrigued.

Ishaan chuckled softly. "But every place has its quirks. Sometimes the rules aren't as clear-cut as they seem, and not everyone is as laid-back as they appear."