Chapitre 1
I hate alarm clocks.
Especially the one on Monday mornings.
Mine vibrated against my nightstand at exactly 6:32 a.m., the harsh buzzing instantly making me want to throw it across the room.
I reached out blindly, missed my phone twice before finally managing to silence the alarm, then stayed lying there for a few more seconds with my eyes closed.
The silence lasted barely three seconds.
My phone buzzed again. I groaned before opening one tired eye.
BU Group Chat
Reminder: Partner assignments will be announced today.
Great. Partners. The fastest way to ruin an entire semester.
I slowly sat up, running a hand through my messy hair. My room looked like a battlefield: lecture notes scattered everywhere, clothes covering the floor, and an empty coffee mug sitting on the edge of my desk.
I’d stayed up late.
Mostly because Alycia had texted me at midnight, asking me to proofread the introduction of her paper. And, of course, I’d agreed without even thinking.
The more time passed, the more pathetic I found myself. I let myself fall back onto my pillow for a couple of seconds, staring at the ceiling.
The problem with Alycia was that everything felt too easy with her. Talking to her. Looking at her. Thinking about her. Even when I tried convincing myself she was “just a friend,” my brain always found a way back to her. Her smile. Her laugh.
I sighed before finally getting out of bed.
An hour later, a steaming cup of coffee in hand, I crossed campus while trying not to freeze to death. Students were chatting all around me as I pulled the zipper of my hoodie up to my chin.
— Kale!
I looked up immediately.
There she was. Alycia was walking across the courtyard toward me with that smile that always made me feel like an idiot.
My chest tightened.
— Wow, she said as she reached me. You look awful.
— Good morning to you too.
She laughed softly.
Honestly, it should’ve been illegal to look that pretty at seven in the morning. Her blonde hair fell in messy waves around her face. She was always dressed far more elegantly than I was, and her blue eyes had a habit of making me lose myself in them.
— How many hours did you sleep?
— No idea.
— So... three?
— Two and a half, I corrected.
She shook her head with an amused smile before starting to walk toward the main building. I followed naturally. It was always like that with her. As if my body had already decided it belonged wherever she was.
— Did you study for Lambert’s presentation? she asked.
— No.
She turned to look at me.
— Liar.
I smiled faintly.
— Maybe a little.
She lightly bumped my shoulder with hers. And my heart, being the dramatic idiot that it was, immediately started racing over absolutely nothing.
We walked into the still noisy lecture hall, and I headed straight for a seat in the back. Alycia sat down beside me without even asking. Like always.
A few minutes later, Professor Lambert walked in with his coffee and a stack of papers.
The room quickly fell silent.
— Good morning, everyone. As announced, your main project this semester will be an immersive journalism report, completed in pairs.
A wave of groans spread across the room.
I absentmindedly twirled my pen between my fingers while Lambert went over the instructions.
Honestly, I didn’t really care about the assignment itself. The only thing I could think about was that if I wasn’t paired with her, someone else would be. And if that happened, I’d probably spend the next three months watching some random guy laugh with her.
Just thinking about it already made me want to punch him.
Lambert began reading out the pairs.
Students started moving around the lecture hall in an annoying chorus of scraping chairs and conversations.
Then—
— Alycia Davis and...
I looked up before I could stop myself.
— Kale Martin.
For a second, my brain completely froze. Then Alycia immediately turned to me with the biggest smile on her face.
— Looks like we’re spending the whole semester together.
And the worst part? It was probably the best news I’d gotten all week.
The rest of the lecture flew by.
Well... at least for me.
Mostly because Alycia kept leaning closer to whisper little comments about everything Lambert said.
— He’s wearing that awful jacket again.
— Shh.
— No, seriously. Look at the elbows.
I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from smiling too much.
Naturally, my brain decided to stop listening to a single word after that.
— Kale.
I looked up so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash.
Crap.
— Since you seem so focused, perhaps you’d like to answer my question?
A few muffled laughs spread through the room.
Alycia immediately lowered her head to hide her smile.
— Uh...
I had absolutely no idea what he’d asked.
Professor Lambert was already sighing.
— What qualities are essential for immersive journalism?
— Being... discreet?
— Among other things.
I nodded as if I’d been following the lecture the entire time.
Which was a complete lie.
The class eventually ended in the usual chorus of conversations and scraping chairs.
I quickly packed my bag while Alycia finished writing something in her notebook.
— Alright, she said, closing it. We need to pick a topic.
— We’ve got time.
— Wrong. Lambert said he wants our proposal by Friday.
I grimaced.
— He’s pushing it.
— He’s a journalism professor, Kale. Making students suffer is literally his job.
I laughed softly as I slung my backpack over my shoulder. We left the lecture hall together, only to be swallowed by the crowd of students filling the hallway.
The flow of people forced us to slow down almost immediately.
Alycia walked right beside me, her arm brushing against mine every now and then as we made our way through the crowd. And, naturally, my heart forgot how to behave.
— I’ve got a few ideas, she continued. Student politics, social media, mental health...
— Too overdone.
— I knew you’d say that.
— Because I’m right.
She rolled her eyes.
— Mr. Professional Journalist.
— Exactly.
She was about to answer when someone called out from farther down the hallway.
— Alycia!
A girl from one of her elective classes waved enthusiastically at her.
Alycia glanced in her direction before looking back at me.
— Wait for me. Two minutes.
I shrugged.
She walked over to her friend while I stayed by the lockers, phone in hand, staring at the screen without really seeing it.
If there was one thing I absolutely hated, it was coming up with story ideas. The world was so huge that I never knew what was worth covering. Every idea either felt painfully overdone... or way too complicated to tackle. And I’d honestly thought I could rely on Alycia for that.
Turns out, I was wrong.
At first, she’d been completely invested in the project. She’d already been talking about interviews, editing, finding an original angle...
Then she’d practically forgotten the report even existed. Especially after her best friend gave her two tickets to tonight’s hockey game. Apparently, she’d had something come up.
Originally, I’d planned on spending the evening catching up on the sleep I’d lost the night before.
But since I’m apparently a weak man who’s physically incapable of saying no to this woman...
Here I was, still awake at nine o’clock instead of being comfortably buried in my bed.
The TD Garden was glowing with lights by the time we reached the entrance.
Dozens of fans streamed through the doors in a constant buzz of excitement, all dressed in black-and-gold jerseys. I followed Alycia inside while she looked around with obvious excitement.
— You seem a lot more awake now.
— Of course. The atmosphere here is amazing.
The atmosphere? Sure.
The noise? Not so much.
As soon as we reached our seats, I noticed something important.
We were ridiculously close to the ice.
Like...
Reallyclose.
— Hold on, I muttered, looking around. Is your friend secretly rich or something?
Alycia burst out laughing before sitting down beside me.
— No idea. But I’m definitely not complaining.
I took off my jacket while watching the players warming up on the ice. The sound of skates echoed through the arena as the crowd erupted every time a player skated close to the glass.
— I didn’t know you liked hockey, I said.
Alycia looked at me with her usual smile.
Then her attention immediately shifted back to the ice, as if she were looking for someone.
— Oh, I don’t, actually, she admitted casually.
— Really?
— The men are just ridiculously hot. I’m mostly here for the view.
I couldn’t help laughing.
— Well... points for honesty.
— Always.
Suddenly, she grabbed my arm.
— Oh my God.
— What?
I looked around in every direction, expecting... I had no idea what.
She subtly pointed toward the ice.
— Him.
I followed her gaze.
One of the players was wearing Boston’s black-and-gold jersey.
His helmet was already on, his stick resting casually in his hands as he glided slowly past our section.
Then he simply raised a hand toward the crowd. The arena exploded. Screams erupted all around us, mostly from the girls pressed against the glass.
Show-off.
For someone to soak up that much attention, he had to be important. Or ridiculously famous. My theory was confirmed almost immediately when people started chanting his name.
— Ilya!
Oh.
So that was him.
Ilya Volkov.
First-year journalism student...
...and apparently incapable of recognizing one of the biggest hockey stars in the country.
Great start, Kale.
Then again, I was only a freshman. I wasn’t exactly required to know every celebrity in America. Even if the horrified look Alycia was giving me suggested otherwise.
— Wait... you seriously didn’t know who he was? she asked.
— Sorry for not having his poster hanging above my bed.
She burst out laughing.
— Kale, this guy is all over social media.
— I don’t spend my life on social media.
— That explains a lot about you.
I shot her a deadpan look while she kept smiling.
On the ice, the players continued warming up.
Well...
Mostly Ilya. He seemed to love being the center of attention. At one point, he skated right past the glass in front of us and lightly tapped it with his stick to greet the fans.
Naturally, the girls behind us looked like they were about to pass out.
— This is ridiculous, I muttered.
— You’re just jealous because no one screams your name when you walk into a room.
— Thankfully.
She opened her mouth to answer, but the arena lights suddenly went out. The crowd erupted instantly. A massive video lit up the jumbotron as deafening music echoed through the arena.
Okay.
I could kind of understand why people liked this sport. The atmosphere was insane. The players were introduced one by one to thunderous applause, and when Ilya Volkov’s name boomed through the speakers, the noise became almost unbearable.
I winced.
— They’re all going to be deaf before they turn thirty.
Alycia completely ignored my comment. Her eyes were glued to the ice. Then she leaned closer.
— Just imagine the documentary we could make here.
I turned toward her.
— Excuse me?
— Hockey. The players. Media pressure. Social media... There’s so much to cover.
What is she talking about now?
I’m pretty sure hockey has absolutely nothing to do with any of that.
Actually... I have no idea.
And honestly?
I couldn’t care less. I hated sports. I watched the players take their positions while the crowd kept roaring around us.
Then, despite myself, my eyes landed on Ilya. I couldn’t tell whether people loved him because he was an incredible player...
...or simply because he was ridiculously good-looking.
I could barely even see his face under the helmet. But judging by the reactions around us... I’m guessing being handsome definitely helped. And more importantly... I had absolutely no desire to spend the next few weeks watching Alycia swoon over a bunch of ridiculously attractive hockey players.
— Absolutely not, I said at last.
Alycia smiled immediately.
— So that’s a yes.
— No.
— Kale.
— Alycia.
She burst out laughing and shook her head.
— You’re so grumpy.
— And you’re way too enthusiastic.
— We balance each other out.
I rolled my eyes, though a small smile escaped me anyway. Then the lights came back on, and the game finally began.
The first ten minutes were complete chaos. The players moved way too fast, the crowd screamed every time someone touched the puck, and I understood maybe twenty percent of what was happening on the ice.
Beside me, Alycia looked completely captivated. Meanwhile, my eyelids were getting heavier by the second. Honestly, I think my body had simply decided it was done for the day. The noise of the arena slowly faded into the background, blending with the unintelligible comments of the fans around me.
Then...
Nothing.
...
I woke up with a violent jolt when an enormous roar exploded through the stands.
I startled so badly that my shoulder slammed into Alycia’s.
— Oh, finally, she said without taking her eyes off the ice. Sleeping Beauty has awakened.
I rubbed a hand over my face with a groan.
— I wasn’t asleep.
— Kale, you were practically snoring.
— Slander.
She laughed softly.
I blinked several times, trying to wake myself up while the game continued at full speed in front of us.
The scoreboard now read 2–1.
No clue for who.
— By the way, you missed a fight, Alycia added.
I slowly turned my head toward her.
— A... what?
— A fight.
— People actually fight in this sport?
She looked at me as if I’d just personally insulted hockey.
— Obviously.
I stayed silent for a couple of seconds.
— That’s completely stupid.
— It was incredibly hot.
A tired laugh escaped me as I stretched in my seat.
The game was over.
Cool.
It was...
Interesting, I guess.
Now I could finally go home and sleep.
I stood up immediately, grabbing my jacket.
— Hey, wait, it’s not over yet, Alycia protested.
I felt her hand wrap around my wrist.
I looked down at her fingers before meeting her eyes again.
— It is for me, I replied. See you tomorrow. My bed is waiting for me.
— Kale!
She was clearly trying not to laugh while I picked up my backpack.
— There are still the post-game interviews.
— And?
— And that’s the best part.
— Maybe for weird people.
She rolled her eyes before giving my arm a gentle tug, trying to make me sit back down.
— Come on. Ten minutes.
— You also said “ten minutes” when we walked into that clothing store. We came out two hours later.
— And you looked really good in that jacket.
— It was way too expensive.
Alycia smiled proudly, as if she’d just won the argument.
The players gradually left the ice to the sound of applause.
Around us, the arena slowly began to empty.
I zipped up my jacket while trying to suppress a yawn.
— Seriously, why do you want to stay so badly?
— Because I like watching people.
I turned slightly toward her.
— That sounds a little creepy when you say it like that.
— Athletes after a game are fascinating. Some become arrogant, some avoid the media, and some becomereallyarrogant...
— You already said arrogant.
— Because they usually are.
I let out a quiet snort before absentmindedly looking toward the tunnel leading to the locker rooms.
Several journalists were already waiting there, cameras and microphones in hand, ready to swarm the players the second they came out.
In three years...
That would probably be me.
And honestly?
I wasn’t looking forward to it.
Were we really that annoying?
Chasing people around and shoving microphones in their faces the moment they stepped out of a locker room?
I grimaced at the thought before standing up again.
— You’re staying? I asked Alycia.
She immediately looked at me.
— Yeah. I want to watch the interviews.
Of course she did.
I smiled faintly as I slung my backpack over my shoulder.
— Good luck with your hockey players, then.
— Jealous?
— Absolutely not.
Her smile widened.
— Liar.
I rolled my eyes, gave her a small wave, and headed toward the exit.
The problem was...
I had absolutely no idea where I was going.
TD Garden was basically one giant maze.
So I simply followed the signs without thinking, walking down several nearly empty hallways as the noise of the arena slowly faded behind me.
Eventually, I pushed open a door.
A blast of cold night air hit my face instantly.
I took a deep breath.
God...
That felt good.
After all that noise and chaos, the silence almost made me want to lie down right there on the sidewalk and fall asleep.
I zipped my jacket all the way up and started walking back toward campus.
The city was much quieter now.
A few cars still rolled down the brightly lit streets while groups of fans lingered behind me, talking excitedly about the game.
My hands were freezing despite being buried in my pockets.
And I already missed my bed.
Thankfully, I reached it soon enough.
I dragged myself up the stairs of my dorm building with all the energy of a man on his deathbed before finally unlocking my apartment door.
Silence.
Beautiful.
I immediately took off my jacket, tossed my backpack somewhere across the room, stripped down to my boxers, and practically collapsed onto my bed.
The second my head hit the pillow, a deep sigh of relief escaped me.
If my bed isn’t my best friend...
Then who is?
I closed my eyes with every intention of not moving again for at least the next twelve hours.
