Gavin puffed up like a peacock. I think he totally expected everyone to be sexually attracted to him, no matter their gender, so, to him, this was just confirmation that he was right.
“I seriously hate to break it to you,” he said, “but I’m the buffet of choice for girls, and they don’t like to share me with the other team.”
“Figures.” The boy shrugged, an I-had-to-try gesture. “I’m Joshua. Josh to my friends, but you can call me anytime,” he added with a wink.
“I’m Chance,” Knuckle Scars said, and, oh, wow, his voice! He probably made angels weep.
He took Mackenzie’s hand, while she stood frozen. “We’ve met,” she said.
“I know.”
As Chance turned his attention to Jaclyn, Gavin moved behind her and crossed his arms, staring at Chance with more menace than I’d ever seen from him. It was almost comical.
The muscular Chance wasn’t intimidated and dared to take Jaclyn’s hand.
She blushed, the added color only making her prettier.
A low growl broke from Gavin’s throat. Gasping, Jaclyn spun. When she saw how close he was, and exactly how aggressive his stance, she backed away from him.
“Was that necessary?” Mackenzie asked Chance.
“No. Fun? Yes.”
“Our definition of fun differs.”
His smile was brief, but no less spectacular. “I’ve shown you mine. Why don’t you show me yours?”
“Seriously?” she said. “You don’t speak to me the first two times we see each other, and this is how you lead?”
He shrugged, unabashed.
“Why don’t you two fight in the pit?” Camilla suggested to Gavin and Chance. “The rest of us can place bets.”
“Pit?” Gavin asked, clearly intrigued.
“This way.” She marched forward, my group blindly, happily, shadowing her.
They watched the current fight for several minutes.
“Twenty dollars on the girl in the jogging pants,” Gavin called, and Josh patted him on the back, as if he’d just said the most brilliant thing ever.
Jaclyn clutched her middle and backed away.
Chance noticed and sidled up to her. “Come on. I’ll take you somewhere quiet.”
She nodded, and the two soon disappeared inside. Gavin watched their departure through narrowed eyes. “She’s supposed to be with me,” Gavin spat.
Wow. He really did like her. “Are you sure? The visions don’t always mean what we think they mean. You and I saw ourselves kissing, but that wasn’t what happened at all.”
“I still got a little action, didn’t I?”
I rolled my eyes. “You should be nicer to Jaclyn.”
“Girls don’t want nice,” he grumbled.
“Who told you that?”
“No one. But I pay attention. I know girls want what they can’t have, and they want to be the special exception responsible for taming the boy no one else can, even though they probably won’t be.”
He was...kind of right. “Jaclyn isn’t like other girls. She’s fragile and—”
He gave a short, sharp laugh. “She isn’t fragile, Ali-cat. She’s tough as nails.”
“No, she isn’t.”
“Yes, Ali, she is.” His gaze leveled on me. “Like the visions, what you see is not always the truth. You focus on the hurt she projects and never dig past the surface to see the rage bubbling deep inside, desperate for release.”
“No—”
“You baby her,” he continued, “and that’s the last thing she needs.”
I stomped my foot. “You didn’t see her during our capture or after the attack.”
“Doesn’t matter. I see her now.”
Mackenzie patted his shoulder. “You gonna stand here all night, Gav, or go get your girl?”
Meaning, she wanted Chance away from Jaclyn.
What a night.
As the zombies continued to fight in the pit, I noticed Camilla had wandered to the far edge of the courtyard to drink a cup of beer in private.
I joined her. “How do you capture them?”
She pressed her lips together and pretended I wasn’t there. But I didn’t go away, and finally she sighed. “We patrol every night, and on the occasions zombies come out, we collar as many as we can and kill the others. And if you dare tell me we’re being cruel to zombies, I think I’ll smash your face.”
“Emotionless husks of evil will never get my sympathy.”
“All right, then,” she said. She looked over my shoulder and nodded. “You’ll have to excuse me. I’m needed elsewhere.” She took off for...wherever.
I wasn’t alone for long. A boy-man hybrid bounded over and handed me a cup of beer. I thanked him even though I knew I wouldn’t be drinking the contents. My dad had been an alcoholic, and I’d hated watching his decline; I’d always (mostly) avoided alcohol like the plague.
“Can’t have you feeling left out,” he said with a grin. He had at least ten long, thick scars on his face, making the plainness of his features hauntingly tragic.
“Thank you,” I said again.
“No prob. Hey, I saw your fight the last time you were here. Not that it was really a fight. You were too hard-core for it to be fair. But, man, I was blown away. Never seen anything like it.” He peered at me from under a thick fan of lashes. “So...how’d you do it?”