The Better to Bite (Howl #1)(17)

Rafe and Brent stood together in the end zone. No celebrating for them. No high-fives or spikes of the ball.

And, jeez, both guys were looking my way.

Incredible. That was right. Actually, I’d never seen anything like them. Too strong, too fast. The downed players were slowly rising from the field. Some guys were limping. Brent and Rafe had literally cut through them all.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that something very, very wrong was happening…so I just sat there, dazed, while the rest of the school cheered.

***

We won, of course. With the Deadly Duo, how could we not? It was a blow-out at 56 to 0.

The football players doused the coach with whatever remained in an ice chest. Jenny jumped up and down again, and I wondered if maybe I should just head home for the night.

He’s not interested in you.

Rafe’s words had really gotten under my skin. After all, a girl had her pride.

I followed the others out of the stands and down into the parking lot. Jenny had picked me up, and we stood near her light-blue Toyota. It was her dad’s car—she’d been gleeful that he let her borrow it for the game.

She must have seen the hesitation on my face because she asked, “We’re still heading to Brent’s party, right?” Her brow wrinkled and she had a real hopeful, almost puppy-dog kinda look on her pretty face.

Behind us, I heard someone yell out, “Par-tay!”

“The celebration will be insane,” she told me, smiling a little. “Brent’s parties are always great.”

I was sure she was right. Insane. But…

“Have they always been like that?” I asked her as I rubbed my upper arms.

She blinked at me. “Who…like what?”

“Brent and Rafe. They’re really good.” Like almost better than NFL good.

“I know, right?”

I grabbed onto my patience. I had to do that a lot with her. “Were they like this last year?”

She shook her head. “They were JV last year.”

Junior Varsity. My teeth clenched. “I mean…were they as fast, were they—”

“No.” She had her keys out. They jingled in her hand. “Maybe they had a growth spurt of something…maybe coach just made ‘em better. All I know is that over the summer, I came to a few practices.” She glanced to the left. “You know, just to pass time.”

Or to watch Troy. Yeah, I knew.

“And I saw them.” She gave a little shrug. “When I did, I knew we’d be state champs this year.”

Because they’d put everyone else in the hospital?

“Anna!”

I turned at the shout of my name. Brent jogged toward me. Others slapped him on the shoulder and tried to give him high fives. The high fives that Rafe had so not been giving.

Brent hurried past them all and came right for me.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” He asked, glancing from me to Jenny.

“Um…” Sweat had dampened his hair. The streaks of black were still under his eyes. Instead of looking all pretty boy, he looked a little wild. Dangerous. He’d yanked off his shoulder pads and jersey, and an old t-shirt covered his chest.

“No! Don’t worry, she’s not leaving!” Jenny rushed to say. “I’m heading out, I was going to—”

“You’re coming to the party, too, right, Jen?”

Jenny flushed. “S-sure. Definitely. Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Cool. You know where my place is—head on over. I bet the party’s already started.” He shook his head as his lips twisted in a rueful grin. “There’s always someone ready to start a party without me.”

That line made me feel sad, and I slipped a little closer to him.

He glanced up, surprised.

“Well, I’ll…yeah, I’ll just see you guys there,” Jenny said and then she jumped into her car.

And totally abandoned me.

That was okay, though, right then, I wanted to be with Brent. Crazy, I know, but despite the madness of the game, he seemed to need me then.

“I’m glad you came to the game,” he told me as someone else came up and hit him on the back. Wait—had that been Cassidy’s cousin?

Yeah, it was. James flashed me a grin. Huh. The guy was adjusting to high school life pretty quickly. He didn’t even look like Fresh Meat tonight.

I realized I needed to make some sort of response to Brent. “The game was…ah…interesting.”

He smiled fully, and those dimples flashed. “Are you trying to be polite, Anna Lambert?”

I was, but I could also be very honest. “You’re incredibly good.”

I thought his face seemed to harden a moment. “It’s just a game,” he said, shrugging. “In life, it doesn’t matter if you’re good on the field.”

I thought about the screaming students. “It matters to everyone else.”

He stared at me. Just stared, and it seemed like his gaze saw right into me. “That’s my truck,” he told me as he pointed to the sleek silver ride near the field's gate. “Stay there, give me five minutes to shower in the locker room, and then we’ll hit that party.”

I nodded. “Sounds like a plan.” So I guessed that I was going to the party. Why was I stressing so much?