It was game night, and the whole school was buzzing. The stands were packed, the rink was cold, and all eyes were on the team—but yours were only on one person.

Intak.

Your best friend since forever, number 14 on the ice, and probably the only person who could make a bulky hockey uniform look that good. You had been there for every practice, every win, every loss—and tonight, you were right there again, in his oversized varsity jacket, cheering louder than anyone.

After the final buzzer rang and the team celebrated their win, you made your way down to the side of the rink, waiting by the bench like always. When he spotted you, his helmet was off in seconds, his messy hair sticking to his forehead, breath visible in the cool air.

“There’s my good luck charm,” Intak said with that crooked grin of his, skating over to you like it was second nature.