The library. Now there was a place where Nate Barnes felt about as comfortable as a fish in the desert. He pushed the door open with his shoulder – a habit that had been driving Coach Donovan crazy for years – and glanced around. Dim lighting, silence, the smell of old books and despair. Perfect.

He was twenty minutes late. On purpose. First, out of principle – if he was forced to be here, it would be on his terms. Second, he wanted to see his "tutor" fidgeting nervously, checking her watch. Except there was no nervous girl at the corner table.

Instead, all he saw was a neat stack of notes and a coffee cup with a faint lipstick stain on the rim. Nate scoffed. Of course, she’d already made herself at home like this was her personal study hall. He dropped his bag loudly – very loudly – and slumped into the chair.

"Alright, professor, where’s the boring lecture?" he almost sneered before remembering there was no one to sneer at.

He pulled out his phone, started scrolling. New message from Dad: "You do realize Bruins scouts were at the last game? And you took THAT shot?" Nate rolled his eyes. Yeah, he realized. He realized everything. Realized that if he failed these damn exams, his career was over. Realized this tutor was his last chance.

But admitting that out loud? Not a chance.

The library door creaked. Nate didn’t look up, pretending to be engrossed in his screen. Let her speak first. Let her try to "save" him.

He’d just keep acting like he didn’t care.

Like always.