Oh no, oh no, oh no.

When I saw the bright daylight outside, I immediately got up from the bed and hurriedly put on my clothes and shoes.

Professor Davies' English Literature class.

Once again, I found myself on the verge of being late. He detested tardiness among students—a detestation so intense that he would lecture them for twenty minutes on the podium, ensuring no one would ever dare to be late again.

"I'm late!" I hurried into the classroom, head down, completely unaware of the person approaching me ahead.

Just then, I hit a wall.

A wall of flesh, warm and solid beyond belief.

"Ah!" A sharp cry escaped my lips. I stumbled back, the book in my hand scattering to the floor. As I looked up, I was met with a pair of icy, silver-blue eyes. The man behind them stared down at me from above, his brows furrowed as if I were some filthy stain on his shoe sole.

Kaleb Sterling.

One of our school's most celebrated wealthy heirs, the ice hockey team's star center nicknamed the Ice Dragon King. This title stems not only from his ferocity on the ice but also from his very presence—like a walking iceberg. The air around him seems to be several degrees colder than anywhere else. Now, he stands with his brothers—Ronan, Wyatt, and Zane—four campus legends blocking my path.

"Hey, what are you running for? Is there something chasing you from behind?" My cheeks flushed instantly, and my blood began to throb.

"I... I saw a dog chasing an airplane," I blurted out.

The moment I finished speaking, I felt like biting my tongue. Caleb Sterling's eyebrows shot up, his lips curling into a brazen grin. His deep, raspy voice rang out like sandpaper: "Is that so? Good luck." I was so embarrassed I wanted to vanish. Just then, my savior appeared.

At the other end of the classroom hallway, Xieya Morales was frantically waving at me, her lips moving to say "Hurry up." Like a man who'd been granted a reprieve, I ignored the scattered books, vaulted over the four "icebergs," and dashed into the classroom. Xieya pulled me to a back seat just in time before Professor Davis cleared his throat and began his lecture.

"Thanks," I said in a hushed breath, gasping, "I was on the verge of disaster." "Did you hit your lucky charm?" Xiya teased me softly, her eyes gleaming with a sly twinkle.

I buried my face in my palms and let out a painful groan. This is my life. A Clara Vance who is perpetually distracted and perpetually failing at everything.

I oversleep in class, fall asleep during exams, and get easily distracted and fall asleep when listening to others.

Under stress, I tend to speak incoherently.

It seems that all unfortunate events are directed at me, and I appear to possess the most undesirable personality traits in the world.

I glanced at Siya beside me, and a warm current surged through my heart. We met when I was twelve. My foster social worker had enrolled me in an art class, hoping it would broaden my skills. That's where I met Siya. She sat in the corner, drawing a butterfly trapped in a glass jar with charcoal.

I was sketching a running dog. Our eyes met, and an unspoken understanding instantly connected us. From that day on, she became my only anchor in this world. Before meeting her, my life was a series of moves—I changed foster homes three to four times a year before turning eight. It wasn't until I met Maria that I settled in her home, staying for nearly a decade. But Siya, she's the family I chose for myself.

"Miss Vance?" Professor Davies' stern voice abruptly pulled me from my reverie. My heart sank—indeed, I had lost focus once more.

"What symbolic meaning does Carroll intend to convey through the Mad Hatter's riddle' Why do crows resemble desks? 'in Alice's Adventures in Wonderland?" I opened my mouth, but my mind went blank. The Mad Hatter... the crows... the desks... My thoughts were still lingering in the scent of paint from the art classroom.

"As I expected," the professor shook his head in disappointment, "lack of focus, Miss Vance. This is a major obstacle on your path to graduation." A wave of shame washed over me. I could feel the sneers and sympathetic glances from some classmates around me. The feeling was all too familiar—just like last year.

The memory replayed in my mind like a slow-motion film. Carrying a strawberry yogurt, I was striding through the crowded cafeteria when Troy from the soccer team—a prankster who loved to tease people—deliberately tripped me with his outstretched foot. I was flung forward, the yogurt tracing a pink parabola before landing squarely on Gavin, the rugby team captain's expensive white T-shirt. The next moment, the cafeteria fell silent. Gavin's face turned ashen, and he grabbed a large glass of iced water from the table, drenching me head to toe with it, his words cutting: "Clean up, you freak."

The icy water made me shiver, and even colder was the surrounding burst of laughter. I stood there helplessly like a clown subjected to public execution, drenched and utterly disheveled.

Just then, a figure blocked my path. It was Caleb Sterling. He took off his gray hoodie bearing the

Stirling University ice hockey team's logo and tossed it decisively onto my head, covering my wet hair and flushed face. His voice remained cold and harsh, devoid of warmth: "Put it on." Without even glancing at me, he turned and walked away. The oversized hoodie carried a faint, clean soap scent, serving as a makeshift shelter that shielded me from the world's malice. I couldn't fathom why he did this—his eyes showed no sympathy, his movements no tenderness. It seemed more like impatience, a desperate urge to clear the trouble at hand.

The bell finally rang, freeing me from the humiliating memories. Xie and I packed up our things and joined the crowd streaming out of the classroom.

"Don't pay attention to Davis," Siya patted my back. "He's just an old-timer. You're way smarter than he claims." I forced a smile, though my mind remained unsettled. "Maybe." As we stepped out of the teaching building, the warm afternoon sun bathed us. I took a deep breath, trying to push the images of the white rabbit, the iceberg, and the strawberry yogurt from my mind.

"Hey, Clara," Siya suddenly said, "Think positively." "What positive?" She winked playfully, stretching out her fingers to count: "Today is the end. So, we're only... 155 school days away from graduation!" I couldn't help but smile at her radiant smile. 155 days. Yes, just 155 more days, and I'll be leaving this place, saying goodbye to all of this forever. That thought was the only light in my world right now.

Holiday Hockey Tale: The King's Gambit — Chapter 3

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