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I change into a pair of leggings and a tank top, finger-combing my curly hair as I flit around my room, getting ready. It’s still a little damp from my shower last night. I hate sleeping on wet hair, but I hate wrestling with the blowdryer even more because it just frizzes out, which is decidedlynota good look.
I grab my keys, water bottle, and phone, and on the way out the door, my eyes snag on the white baseball cap resting on my dresser. Madd left it up on the roof yesterday in his haste to run off after that kiss.
That fuckingkiss.
Just thinking about it makes my toes curl.
An idea strikes me, and I step back inside, snatching up the hat and slipping it on over my head- backwards, like he wears it. If Madd wants to play games with me, I’ll give ‘em right back to him. All’s fair in love and war, right?
I grab a bite to eat in the dining hall, then head out to the practice field where Lo and Avery are waiting for me. Avery’s eyes immediately flicker up to the hat on my head, recognition flashing in them, but she doesn’t say anything. She just gets thislook,like she’s curious but is afraid to even ask.
Can’t say I blame her. I wouldn’t voluntarily step into the Madd and Sloane disaster zone, either.
The three of us make our way through the gate and into the woods, following the steady stream of squad fighters heading out for their first target practice. I squint against the bright sunlight filtering in through the trees, reaching up and turning my hat forwards to shield my eyes from it. When we reach our destination, I recognize it as the area the squad uses for war games with new recruits- and I suppose it’s apt, as training with guns is a simulation of the war we may be heading into.
Paper targets are hung on a dozen trees, each one with a rifle resting against the trunk below. The squad leaders who have prior experience with firearms- Madd, Archer, and Ares- are standing there waiting for everyone to arrive, talking amongst themselves in low voices.
As the girls and I draw closer, Madd’s gaze slides over to me and immediately darkens, focusing on the hat I’m wearing. He looks away quickly, but I don’t miss the way his jaw clenches, his posture stiffening.
Eat your heart out, Duke.
I smile to myself in smug satisfaction as the girls and I fall in with the growing crowd of squad fighters, chatting amongst ourselves for a few minutes until Madd whistles to get everyone’s attention.
“Alright, listen up!” he barks, eyes sweeping over his captive audience. “Here’s how this is going to go. We’ll do a quick rundown of gun safety, then everyone’s going to get a chance to shoot.”
Murmurs of nervous excitement rise amongst the squad fighters, but immediately hush when Madd lifts a hand.
Just like that first day on the field, I’m in awe of how effortlessly he commands a crowd.
“Target practice will be twelve at a time. The rest of you can hang by the bunker until it’s your turn.”
The ‘bunker’ being a shoddy wooden platform used for war games, which is basically an intense version of capture the flag.
“The big things we’re going to work on today are your stance and your aim,” he continues, and I find myself nodding along with everyone else, anxious to get started.
Madd picks up one of the rifles and starts going over the basics- first, he demonstrates where the safety is, warning us not to disengage it until we’re ready to shoot. Then he shows us how to hold the gun properly, how to aim, and how to fire. I flinch at the loud crack when he pops off a shot, a hole tearing through one of the paper targets. Next, he goes on for a while about how we shouldn’t touch the trigger until we’re ready to shoot, how we need to identify what we’re shooting before we pull it, and how we should never,everpoint the barrel at something we don’t intend to kill.
After that, the most eager of the squad fighters rush to the front to go first, while the rest of us trek over to hang out by the bunker and wait our turn. They come back about ten minutes later with big smiles on their faces, and that’s how it continues for the next hour, until Avery loses her patience and asserts her authority to push us to the front of the line.
One of the guys that yields his spot to us makes eye contact with me as he passes, and I immediately get this itchy, uncomfortable feeling. I lean in toward Avery, elbowing her to whisper, “Who’s that?”
She follows my line of sight to the young warrior with floppy brown hair. “Who, him?” she asks quietly, tipping her head toward the guy.
I nod.
“That’s Luke Jenkins. He’s from my pack. Funny story, his mom and mine used to be, like, mortal enemies. Hannah Jenkins.” She pauses for a moment, squinting her eyes in consideration. “Can’t remember his dad’s name. Damn, is that terrible since I’m from the alpha family? I should know these things.” She shakes her head, giggling softly. “My uncle Theo has always called him mop top, so that’s just how I think of him.”
I chuckle at that, too.
Avery leans in closer, nudging me. “Why, do you think he’s cute or something?” she whispers.
I shake my head with a grimace. “No, it’s not that. Well, I mean, he’s notunattractive. But I don’t know, something about him just feels… icky.”
“Nah, the dude’s harmless,” she scoffs, waving a hand dismissively. “Honestly, I don’t even know how he made the squad. He’s clumsy as shit.”
We both giggle as the group ahead of us returns to the bunker to tag us in, and we fall in with the next one to jog over to the makeshift shooting range where Madd, Archer, and Ares are changing out some of the paper targets.
“Everyone take a rifle,” Madd barks out impatiently as we approach, purposefully avoiding eye contact with me even when I walk right past him.
