by Jenna Moreci
whatImeantbythat,Professor.”
***
Thedaymovedataglacialpace,asifEvewerewatchingitunfoldinslow
motion.Hermindwaselsewhere,farfromherstudies,andevenfartherfrom
thecuriousglancescastherway.Herentirefocuswasontwowords:
DIECHIME.
Themoresherepeatedit,theheavieritfeltinherchest.Shewanderedinto
the empty locker room, which provided her some solace, at last, though the silence couldn’t save her from the noise of her pestering thoughts. She knew herhandsweremoving—knewtheywereunbuttoningherblouse,lacingher
bootsandsuitingupforCombatclass—butshefeltnothing.
Assheenteredthegym,hermindwasstillhazy.Thehatefulmessagehad
consumedher,envelopingherthoughtsinitsblackash.Itwouldtakeamiracle
tobreakherspell;itwouldtakeanabsoluteshock,asuddenjolttothesenses.
“Wehaveanewrecruitjoiningtheclass,”Ramseyannounced,slappingthe
backoftheyoungmanathisside.“Valentine,getinline.”
Eve’smouthfellopenindisbelief.BeforeherstoodJason,dressedinthesame
blackuniformaseveryoneelse,histhickscarprotrudingfromthe
neckline of his tank top. He took his place beside her in line, struggling to stiflehisamusementoverherobviousshock.
“Whatthe hellareyoudoinghere?”shewhispered.
“Nicetoseeyou,too.”
“Thetalkingstopsnow,”Ramseysnapped,glancingoverhisclipboard.
“Everyone—laps.”HelookedstraightatEve.“Andnoslacking.”
Withaquickchirpofhiswhistle,thecaptainsenthisstudentssprintingonto
the track. Eve and Jason effortlessly sped past their much slower classmates, weavingaroundtheirburlybodiesandleavingtheminacloudofdust.Asthe
othersdisappearedintothebackground,EvelookedoveratJasonandscowled.
“What’sgoingon?”
“IdroppedPoliticalInquiryandtookupCombat,”heanswerednonchalantly.
“Igatheredthat.But why?”
Jasonlaughed.“Areyou madthatI’minyourclass?”
“Youdon’thavetokeeptabsonme,ifthat’swhatyou’redoing.”
“Keep tabsonyou?”hechuckled.“Look,Eve,Iknowyoucantakecareof
yourself.Youdon’thavetoremindme.Butwewereattackedthisweekend.We
could’ve been killed. And that won’t be the last time it happens.” His tone becamesomberashestaredattheendlesstrackaheadofhim.“Ineedtolearn
howtofight.”
Eveglancedoverhershouldertomakesurethatnoonewaswithinearshot,
butherpeersweretrailingfarbehindthem.“Youseemedtodoaprettygood
jobofit.”
“Prettygoodisn’tgoodenough.”
“So,you’renotherebecauseofme?”
Hewinked.“Ofcoursenot.Seeingyouisjustanaddedbonus.”
Ramsey’swhistlesoundedfromacrossthefield.“Ifyoucantalk,you’renot
workinghardenough!”heshouted.“Moveyourlazyasses!”
“God,Eve,youreallyhavetostopholdingmebackinclass,”Jasonteased,
sprintingaheadofher.
Evegrumbledtoherselfandchargedforward,competingagainstJasonfor
the remainder of the run, the two of them eventually lapping the rest of their classmates.
Sprintsweresoonover,andthestudentshurriedbacktothegym,eachofthem
sweatyandachy—except,ofcourse,forEveandJason.Theothers
watchedthemastheywalkedby;itseemedthatEvewasnolongerthecenterof
attention,asJason’scelebrityandvisiblescarhadsenttheentireclassintoan awkwardstir.
“It’sfunny,”Jasonsaid.“Iactuallyknowsomeoftheseguys.Andnowthey
won’teventalktome.Theyjust…stare.”HeturnedtoEve.“Butyou’retotally
usedtothis,aren’tyou?”
“Inevergetusedtoit.”
“Getusedtowhat?”AvoicefrombehindstartledEve,andsheturnedtosee
ChinDimple’sarrogantgrin.“Beingtheshitstainofthehumanrace?”He
stoppedandcockedhisheadatJason.“Lookslikeyoucalledinsomebackup.
Tooweaktotakeonthepressurealone?Couldn’thandleit?”
Evesmirked.“IhandledmyselfjustfinewhenIhadmyfootlodgedbetween
yourballs.”
“Youshouldbecareful.Thatmouthofyoursisgoingtogetyouinto
trouble.”
“Hey,”Jasonsnapped,steppingforward.“That’senough.Walkaway.”
Thefootballerignoredhisdemand.“You’retheguyfromHV,right?The
onetheydissected?”HeapproachedJason,staringhimupanddownuntilhis
eyes landed on his scar. “They carved you up like a goddamn turkey. How’d thatfeel?”
Jasonstoodfirmandstaredbackathisnewfoundadversary.Heexamined
theboy’sface:hiscombedhair,hischiseledjaw,andhiscleftchin.Heturned toEve.
“ThisisChinDimple?”
“ChinDimple?”ThefootballerturnedtoEveandwinked.“Yougotapet
nameforme?”
“Ithink AssFacemight’vebeenmoreappropriate,”shescoffed.
“Oh,Icanthinkofplentyofnamesforyou, baby.”
“She’snotyour baby—”
“Youmindyourown,chimera.I’vegotamessageforher,that’sall.”Chin
Dimple put his face just inches from Eve’s and stared her in the eye. “What happenedinthebusinessbuilding?Thatwasnothing.Weletyouoffeasy.”He
leaned in even closer, his gaze fixed and perverse. “Next time, I’m going to makeyouscreamlikethelittle bitchyouare.”
Jasonlungedtowardhim.“Youbetterwatchwhatyousay,orIsweartoGod
—”
“You’llwhat?”hejeered.“Youtryingtoplayheronow?”
“Stay awayfromher,”Jasongrowled.
“Why?Issheyour girlfriend?”Helaughed.“Is thatwhatthisisabout?”
AsingleveinbulgedfromJason’sneckashestaredatChinDimple,hiseyes
furiousandhisjawclenched. “Don’ttouchher.”
“Don’ttouchher,huh?Funnyyoushouldsaythat.”Asmilespreadacross
hislips.“DidyouseetheshinerIgaveyourgirlfriend, chime?”
“Whatthe hellisthisshit?”Ramseyspat,enteringthegymandinterrupting theconfrontation.“Thisain’tateaparty.Lineup, now.”
Jasonglaredatthefootballer,hisbloodboilingashetookhisplaceinthe
formation. Eve stared at Jason: his arms were stiff at his sides, his fingers curledintotight,redfists.
“Whatwashetalkingabout?”Jasonmuttered.“Whathappenedinthe
businessbuilding?”
Evesighed;sherecalledthethreatandquicklyshookitfromherthoughts.
“Itwasalltalk.”
“Whatwasalltalk?”
“Jason,Itookcareofit.”
Helookeddownather,hiseyesstonyandcold.“Apparentlyyoudidn’t.”
Ramseyclearedhisthroatandflashedthetwosomeacriticalfrown.“Just
becausewehaveanewrecruitdoesn’tmeanwe’regoingtotakethingseasy today,” he began. “We’re picking up where we left off: full-contact combat drills.Twowillsquareoffatatime,andtheclasswillobservefortakeaways
andtacticaleducation.”
“Permissiontospeak,Captain?”Jasonbrazenlyinterrupted.Evecringed;
shehadtheterriblefeelingthatwhateverhehadtosaycouldn’tbegood.
“Yes,Valentine?”
“Captain,itseemsonlyfairthatIgofirst,seeingaseveryone’shadachance
tofightexceptme.”
Thecaptainsmirked.“Gladtohearyou’reso justand honorable,”hesaid,his wordsriddledwithsarcasm.
“AndCaptain,”Jasoncontinued,cockinghisheadtowardtheendoftheline.
“Iwanttofight him.”
Evefrozeinplace,hereyeswideandmortified—hehadchallengedChin
Dimple. GodDAMMIT, shethoughttoherself.ShespuntowardJason.
“Whatthehellareyoudoing? ”shehissed.
Ramseychuckled.“Youdon’tgettopickyouropponent,kid—”
“I’min,”thefootballplayerinterrupted,confidentlystruttingforward.
Thecaptainhesitated.Heglancedbackandforthbetweentheathlete’ssmug
grin,Jason’scrossglare,andEve’sexasperatedgawking.Suddenly,hesmiled.
“Youknowwhat?I’mfeelingobligingtoday.”Hetossedhisclipboardtothe
floor.“Tohellwiththerules.Keller,Samson,setupthemats.”
Astheringwasassembled,thesoundofmutteringsandwhispersfilledthe room.TheotherstudentsstaredatJason,curiousforthefightinstore,butEve
didn’tsharetheirintrigue;shestormedtowardhim,hereyesbulginglividly.
“Areyou crazy?”shespat.“Whatdoyouthinkyou’redoing? ”
“Look,theguy’sahammer.Hewasaskingforit.”
“Jason,youdon’tevenknowhowto fight.”
“So?I’machimera.”
“It’snotthatsimple,Jason.”
Helookedbackathisopponent,whowasbusyboastingtohisfriends.
“We’re supposed to be good at all things athletic, right?” he asked. “I mean, I’vealwaysbeengoodatbasketball.”
“Thisisn’t basketball,Jason.Thisisbeatingthe shitoutofsomeone.”
“Well,shouldn’titjust,Idon’tknow…cometome?”
Evesighed.“Itdoesn’tworklikethat.”
“Thenhow doesitwork?”
“Look,you’rein wayoveryourhead—”
“I’mdoingthis,Eve,whetheryouhelpmeornot.”
Evegrowledunderherbreath.Sheknewitwasnouse,thatJasonwas
stubbornandmeantwhathesaid.Shecursedhisresolveandbitherbottomlip.
“Yourmusclememory,reflexes,andspeedareimpeccable.Thatcomeswith
theterritory.Butthere’smorethanthatinsideofyou—morethatyouhaven’t
experiencedyet.”
“Whatdoyoumean?”
Shelookedaroundbeforecontinuing.“Emergencedoesn’tjustbringabout
yourgift.Itsortof…heightenseverythingelse,too.Includingyourstrength.”
“SoIshouldbefine,right?”
“Notnecessarily.Youhavetoworkforit.Youhavetofindthat fire.”
Jasonfurrowedhisbrow.“Fire?”
“Yes.Adrenaline.It’slikejetfuelforus.Whatevertriggersyourstrength—
yourpassion—findit.”
“Thatdoesn’tsoundsohard.”
“Jason,”Evegroaned,“you’renottakingthisseriously.”
Hesmirked.“Areyou worriedaboutme?”
“I’mtryingtohelpyou win.”
“You’reworried.It’scute.”
Eveletoutalong,irritatedbreath.“Justfindthepassion.Okay?”
Jasonglancedatthemat,whichwasnowfullyassembled.“Passion.Gotit.”
EvefollowedJasontothecenterofthegymandreluctantlyjoinedthe
onlookers,wigglingherwaytothefrontofthecrowd.Shefidgetednervously,
first resting her arms at her sides and then ultimately deciding to fold them acrossherchest.AsJasontookhisstanceonthemat,Eveheldherbreathand
dugherfingernailsintothepalmsofherhands.
Ramseynoddedhisheadatthefighters,instructingthemtoentertheringand taketheirmarks.
“Remember,”hesaid,“thisisfullcontact.Keepitcleanandstaywithinthe
ring.” He fiddled with his whistle, swinging the cord around his thumb. “The matchbeginsatthesoundofthiswhistle.”
JustasthewordsleftRamsey’slips,ChinDimplesluggedJasonacrossthe
jaw,sendinghisneckwhippingtotheside.EvegaspedaloudasJasonstumbled
backward,hislegsnearlybendingundertheforceoftheblow.Evecould
barelyhearRamsey’scry—“Badform,badform!” —asifitweremilesaway,
because her head was filled with the sound of her rapid breathing and the thumpingofherheart.
Thefootballerstrolledcasuallytohisopponent’sside;Jasonwashunched
over,clutchinghiskneesforsupport.
“Sorry,”hesaid,histonepatronizing.“ThoughtIheardthewhistle.GuessI
waswrong.”
Withaquickkick,heslammedhisheelintoJason’sribs.Jasondroppedtohis
hands and knees, gasping for air and coughing up blood, and again Chin Dimplekickedathisgut,thistimeevenharder,sendingJason’sbody
collapsingontothemat.
“Thisistooeasy,”hegloated,proudlystandingaboveJasonandplayingto
thecrowd.“Givemearealfight.”
Withgrittedteeth,Jasonkickedathisadversary’sboot,knockinghislegsout
fromunderhimandsendinghimontohisbackwithaloudthud.Jasonlugged
hisheavy,beatenbodyoffofthematandregainedhisfooting;hedraggedthe
backofhishandacrosshismouth,wipingthebloodfromhissplit
lip and flicking it against the ground. As the bright red drops splattered onto thefloor,Evefeltherheartleapintoherthroat.
ChinDimpleleapttohisfeet,undeterredbyJason’sadvances.Hecracked
hisneckandflashedapompoussmile.
“Thatit?”
Jasonjabbedatthefootballer,firstathisnoseandthenhismouth,andfora
second Eve felt the slightest hint of relief. But Chin Dimple just adjusted his jawandspitontothematbeforestrikingJasonwitharoundhousekickacross
theface,sendinghimflatontohisbackinwhatseemedlikeaninstant.
“Jackass,”ChinDimplemuttered,hisvoicethickwithbloodysaliva.
Jason regained his feet and swung his fist at his opponent’s eye, but the footballerblockedhisblowandimmediatelypoundedhimacrossthenose.
Jason staggered to the side of the mat and wiped the blood from his mouth, smearingitlikeredpaintacrosshisface.
“You’reworsethanyourgirlfriend,”ChinDimplesneered.
Jasonstruckhimwitharighthooktothetempleandanuppercutstraightto
thejaw,andbloodspewedfromthefootballer’slipslikeasputteringfaucet.
Drivenbyfury,ChinDimplesmashedhisbootintoJason’scheekbone;blood
gushedfromJason’smouth,staininghischinadeepshadeofred.Evefelther
pulsebeatinginherthroat;shewantedtointervene,toendthefightherself,and yet she was paralyzed, her feet rooted to the floor as she watched the primal displayinshock.
ChinDimplepoundedJason’sjawyetagain,aimingforthebloodymessas
ifitwerehisonlytarget.Jasonstruggledtoguardhimself;hewasdetermined but weak, visibly lacking the energy to fight. Again he was struck in the jaw, andthenoncemore,hisbodyswayingfromsidetosideastheblowscameone
after the next. The footballer kicked Jason in the gut, and
his chest curled forwardashehelplesslygaspedforair.Everyounceofpowerhadbeen
drainedfromJason’sbody,andEveknewthatthematchwouldsoonbeover:
Jason was going to lose. Just when he appeared to have had enough, Jason’s jawlurchedtothesideyetagainashisrivaljabbedathisalreadybatterednose, sendingbloodgushingfromhisnostrils.
Evewinced;Jasonwasstillstanding,butbarely,hisbodybrokenand
debilitated,hisfacebruisedandstreakedwithblood.Oneortwomorestrong
blowsandhewouldbefinished.ChinDimplecircledJasonlikeavultureover
acarcass,evidentlyoverjoyedbyhissoon-to-be-conquest.
“Thiswasfun,wasn’tit?”hecrowedinhistypical,arrogantfashion.“Butyou
knowwhatwasevenmorefun?Fightingyourgirlfriend.”
“Shutup,”Jasonspat,drawinghisfistsclosertohisface.
“Oh,youwanttohearthis,”ChinDimplewenton.“Yousee,shemayhave
won that fight, but I’m the one who really left a winner. You want to know why?”
“Isaid, shutup.”
ThefootballerpunchedJasonintheface,silencinghiminstantly.
“I’mgoingtotellyouanyway.”HeleanedclosertoJason,utterlyconfident
inhisdominance.“WhenIhadherpinnedtothegroundandIwaslyingontop
ofher—God,itfelt sogoodjusttofeelhersweetassunderneathmybody.”He smiled,histeethredwithbloodandhisstarecuttinglikerazorblades.
“Evenifshe’snothingmorethanadirty,whorish chime.”
SomethingflashedinJason’seyes,andoutofnowherehisfistflew,
poundingthefootballeracrossthechinsoharditsenthisbodyspinningina
complete circle. The entire room gasped in unison. Jason struck again, this timeinthenoseandthenagainacrossthejaw,sendingasprayofbloodfrom
hismouth.
Jasonwasrejuvenated,rechargedwithanew,overwhelmingpowerthat
surged in his veins like gasoline. He grabbed at Chin Dimple’s shirt, nearly tearing the fabric with his grip, and punched him across the jaw again and againwithastrongrighthook.Thefootballstarwobbledfromsidetoside,but
beforehecouldevenattempttoregainhisfooting,Jasonsprangforwardand
kickedhiminthecenterofhischest.
ChinDimplestaggeredoffofthemat,nearlytrippingofftheedgeashe
