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Hale is still running circles, wearing down the half bald guy who is struggling for breath. Kai sticks his foot out, tripping Hale, and giving Half-Baldy a chance for a split second, until the nimble Vincent is back on his feet and out of reach again.
Bill rubs his hands together like a giddy teenage girl as he perks up beside me. “I say put it to a vote,” Bill states confidently.
“With the Wild Ones, he’ll get the votes he needs. Them and that new city boy that stalked Kylie,” a man snaps as he jumps to his feet on the aisle across from us.
Ah, great. Everyone knows I’m a lunatic. Awesome.
Weirdly, no one even bothers looking over at me, as though it’s a casual thing to stalk a girl these days.
Only in Tomahawk.
Half-Baldy finally gives up chasing the ever energetic Hale Vincent, and finally drops back down, smearing a wad of shaving cream on his head again as Kai whips his machete back out.
Since they’re both in the section allocated for Wilders, I can only assume that’s his brother.
I don’t know that I’d trust anyone with a blade that size near my head, but certainly not my family.
“He’s been trying to get this passed for three years! And it’s ridiculous! People will laugh at us!” the man shouts.
“Sit down, Chester. Your weak challenges have tired us all. It’s time for some more fun,” Bill argues.
This…is why I signed up. I grin as I sit back and continue to take it all in. I’m more of an observer than a participator.
“His last challenge lasted nine damn years!” Chester roars.
“And it was the best challenge this committee ever had, because you started outnumbering us when you got the Wild Ones booted.”
“George never left, so I didn’t get rid of all the Wild Ones,” Chester spits, glaring at George like he’s somehow offended him by existing.
“George is part of the founding families. He can’t be excluded,” a man says dismissively from close by. No one seems bothered by the tension. It’s…again…normal to them.
“George thinks it’s time for a bigger, better challenge, and George believes Bill is right,” George says, stating the words flatly before “scratching” his cheek with his bird finger that is aimed at Chester.
I grin broader.
It’s so ridiculous you can’t help but be entertained when it’s real-life action rolling out in front of you.
“How is this even manly?” Chester screeches.
“How can you ask that in such a girly voice?” Hale volleys, causing Chester’s blood pressure to become obvious when he turns a very alarming shade of red.
“It’s romantic, and if Chester got laid by anything but his calloused hand, he’d understand how fucking manly you have to be in order to be romantic,” Bill says with so much conviction and pride that I’m instantly intrigued.
He’s never once told me what I had to vote for. Just said whatever he or George put to a vote better get voted for by me. I didn’t bother asking about the consequences.
They’re like the quirky rat pack in this place.
“We’ll be laughable fools if we go through with this,” Chester goes on.
“It has to be put to a vote,” Bill says with his fist raised toward Chester.
Chester brings up both fists next to his short white beard. “The Wild Ones shouldn’t get a vote!” Chester shouts.
I expect violence, so I shift over in my seat a little. However, this standoff goes on for a few minutes, both of them arguing, and I notice some people even yawn.
“We like romance too!” Hale decides to argue…weirdly. “We even like poetry and shit.”
“Roses are red. Violets are blue. God made us pretty. What happened to you?” Killian drawls, swiveling his head toward Chester, who glares at him.
I’m actually lost now, since I don’t know how we went from talking about a manly challenge to talking about poetry and romance. I really hope it’s not beard related.
I legit can’t grow a beard.
“The Wild Ones did the beard challenge for nine long years. The Wild Ones ended the nightmarish challenge as well. So they deserve to be in the challenge committee until they accidentally blow something up or break it beyond repair,” Vick says on another long-suffering sigh, as though he’s explained this numerous times.
“Then let’s vote,” Bill states emphatically. “Stop wasting time.”
“Just explain to me why this is romantic and manly?! It’s feminine and degrading!” Chester argues.
“My Penny has wanted to live in a musical since she saw Funny Face, though it’s only for the dancing and not the singing—be glad for that. The least I can do is make her dream come true. All the women would love it.”
“Lilah won’t,” Benson grumbles from my other side. “I have to do this for nothing.”
Do what?
The suspense has me looking like a sucker on the edge of my seat, my eyes bouncing like a tennis ball as I wait to figure out just how crazy and insanely dangerous this challenge is going to be, while also wondering why Chester is horrified by it.
