“Not recruited,” Orok counters. “I’d still have to try out. And it’s crazy competitive. But—”
“O.” I squeeze his arm more gently. “This is a big deal. You’re gonna call her, right?”
He bites his lip.
“O.”
“Yeah, I’m gonna call her,” he says, but it’s lacking several degrees of conviction. He sniffs before his lips twitch in a smile that’s—sad? “I’ll call her,” he says again, more firmly.
I grin. “Good, you oaf.” I shake his arm. “This isgood.”
His happiness brightens. “Maybe. I dunno.”
“I dunno,he says.” I punch his chest. “Well,Iknow that the Hellhounds will be lucky to have you.”
There’s that sad smile again. He can’t still be worried we’ll lose touch after graduation?
Yeah, it’ll be a big change. But not all changes are bad.
The weight of my mom’s text in my phone makes my pocket heavier. I’ll delete it the first moment I get.
“Hey.” I take his hand. “I’m not going anywhere. We’ll get through this phase of our lives together.” I smile through a wince. “You’re not the only one taking steps like that. I have a date tonight. That I initiated. With Thio.” I wince again. “Did I mention I initiated it?”
Orok throws his head back with a cacklingwhoopbefore he loops his arm around my shoulder and hauls me into his side.
“About time.” He laughs into my hair.
But his grip on me stiffens, all his muscles seizing. It sets me on alert.
“I wasn’t sure either of us would ever be able to make a connection beyond our trauma bond,” he whispers.
I push back. “It’s not a trauma bond. And besides, it’s one date. Afirstdate. It isn’t a…connection.”
“Uh-huh. Sure it isn’t. What time’s he picking you up?”
“Seven. But why—”
Orok’s smile is so big his teeth glint in the afternoon sun. “Good. I’ll make sure to vet him thoroughly tonight.”
My face falls.
I won’t be able to rely on Orok having rawball practice to keep him out of the apartment.
“Well.” I swallow. “Shit.”
Orok’s grin is evil. “Trial by fire, baby. He wants you, he’s gotta go through all of this.” And he waves his hand across his body as he gyrates his hips.
I’m sure tonight’ll be fine.
It is not fine.
Not only is Orok home, but a dozen of his teammates also toppled back here with him, and now Orok’s drunk, along with Ivo and several other members of the Manticores’ defensive line, all of them playing potion pong—a slightly riskier cousin of beer pong with mild low-level spells in the cups instead of alcohol.
One of the other tanks got a weak flight spell and is currently hovering against our ceiling.
Someone else got a potion of fire breathing and is drunkenly, frantically searching on his phone for the antidote because he’d been mid–trying to flirt with a cheerleader, and now every time he talks he spits a column of flames. His friends aren’t helping because they’re having too much fun laughing at his expense.
It’s in the midst of this chaos, with me standing at the base of the stairs and considering downing an invisibility potion so I can sneak to the door unnoticed, that the doorbell rings.
