The Score (Sequel to The Exchange)

Chapter 22- Nothing Personal

Several days had passed, and there weren't too many people left in the game.

At that point, the alpha females had taken over, and they were hunting people down. They even asked me to join them, but apparently, shooting their leader was enough to get that offer revoked.

Diego, Viktor, and I still hadn't turned on each other, and until we were in the final five or so, I didn't have any intention of breaking that. It was still too early to call it a "game move" or "pure strategy and nothing personal."

Plus, I already had six kills. I didn't want to make myself seem like any more of a threat. Diego also had six, and Viktor had a staggering zero kills.

What a sweetie.

I sat in my room, pondering one thing in particular that had been bothering me for a while.

How the fuck did the darts stick to pretty much anything dry?

I scrolled through the Google search results on my phone about adhesives that stuck to skin, and the main answers that I came across were somehow tied to medicine.

Maybe that was it.

My phone buzzed, and I bit my cheek. Anytime I was in the middle of something, someone wanted to talk. (And naturally, when I was bored, everyone else was busy.)

It was Viktor, to my surprise. "COME TO MY ROOM RIGHT NOW PLEASE I HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL YOU."

No punctuation and all caps. This was serious.

I went up the stairs to his floor, then knocked on the door.

"It's open. Just come in," Viktor said, and I pushed the door open.

"What the fuck's got your panties in a wad?" I asked.

He looked up at me, then patted the bed right beside him. "Come look at this."

I sat down beside him, and he tilted his laptop screen towards me.

It looked like an email from his coach.

Boys:

I am excited to let all of you know that for the next few games, there will be NHL draft scouts attending. For a lot of you, it's your chance to prove something. Don't fuck it up.

Coach Sullivan

I smiled. "So this is why you're freaking out?"

Viktor nodded. "That's not all. Yesterday at practice, my agent told me that there may be a few teams with an interest in me."

"Wait. You have an agent? Since when?" I asked.

"Since you wouldn't do it for me." He laughed. "But anyway, don't you want to know which teams?"

"I think you really want to tell me."

He smiled. "I really, really do. It's Boston, Buffalo, and Vancouver."

"Ew. Literally all those teams are the fucking worst."

"What, because they're not Minnesota?"

I nodded. "Exactly. Boston's dirty, Buffalo just really sucks, and I hate Canada."

"Why?"

"Because I just do."

He laughed. "Okay then."

I smiled. "Look, I'm really happy for you. It's just that at this point, interest doesn't mean too much. That list could easily change in a span of a few weeks."