Page 70 of Savior

Ruckus pushed off the wall and came with me.

“You’re not going to congratulate me?” he asked.

“For fourth place?”

His face fell.

“You lost to three of your brothers,” I reminded him.

“Rook’s entry is hearsay.”

“I’m sure he’ll be devastated.”

Ruckus looked at me then. Really looked. His humor faded. “You good?”

There it was. Not quite the look. A check.

“I don’t care about the list.”

“Didn’t ask about the list,” he said.

I met his eyes. For once, Ruckus didn’t fill the silence.

Then somebody behind us called, “Hey, manslut.”

His grin came back instantly. “See?” he said. “Already losing the potential.”

I laughed.

He peeled off toward class.

By lunch, the list had mutated.

Someone printed copies.

That seemed excessive.

One had been taped inside a bathroom stall and covered in handwritten additions.

Chief had acquired three tally marks beside his name and the words:

ABSOLUTELY WOULD.

Someone had written a phone number next to Rook.

Potential had been crossed out beside Ruckus and replaced with:

CONFIRMED.

Micah had a heart around his entire entry.

Clayton’s was worse.

Too obsessed with Piper. Gross. Get married already.

Underneath it, someone had written:

SHE DOESN’T WANT HIM.