Looking to Score(31)

“Everything is fine,” a voice said at my back.

I spun around to see three large dudes in their underwear. “What the fuck?” I cursed.

“It’s the annual hazing. All freshman football guys have to do it,” the largest of the bunch said with a groan. He had scratches all down his arm, like his captors struggled to grab him.

“I’m not a freshman football player!” I screamed. “I do not consent to this! Where are they taking us? What are they going to do?”

A shorter guy with a buzz cut and dark eyes spoke up. “Please stop screaming. We are literally in a metal cage, and your shrill voice is echoing everywhere.” I was going to murder the entire team. Plain and simple. “It’ll be over quick. Oakley gave us strict instructions to watch over you,” he added.

Oh, so that made this alright?

“I still don’t get it. Why am I here? Where are we going?”

The van started moving, and I fell down on my ass with a thud. Oh my God, I had so much work to do, and I did not have time for this bullshit.

“It’s a huge honor,” the guy who hadn’t spoken yet finally answered. He had curly blond hair and a black eye. “Most chicks would be excited. It’s a big deal that Oakley wanted to include you. And my older brother told me about this. I know where they’re taking us…” His voice sounded ominous.

“Where?” I demanded.

“Devil’s Backbone.”





The van finally stopped. I couldn’t see where we were because the windows were covered in black construction paper. For some reason, I found this really funny and started giggling. I was in the back of a van against my will, supposedly at a place called The Devil’s Backbone, and the windows were covered in a crafting supply from a preschool classroom. It must have been the combination of the adrenaline flowing through my body and my anxiety spiking. The guys looked at me like I was absolutely insane. Oh well, at least I wasn’t in my underwear.

The back doors of the van flung open, and I could barely see past our kidnappers into the absolute darkness. The sun had fully disappeared in the time it took us to get here. There was no source of light. No street lamps, no buildings, not even the headlights from the van. Fun fact, I slept with a night light until I was twelve. I. Could. Not. Do. This. I didn’t even know what this was, but I was out. I tried to panic quietly to keep at least a shred of dignity. The guys started to get out of the van as though this was just a super normal thing to do on a Wednesday night. My ass stayed firmly parked where it was.

“Come on, Amanda,” one of the mostly naked freshmen said to me, gently. “It’ll be okay, I promise.”

Uh, no. No, it would not be okay. Hazing was illegal for a reason. I’d read enough dark romance books to know that a secluded place in the woods with three nearly naked men was a recipe for something I wasn’t ready for.

“Hey, Solver. How was the ride?” a stupidly cheerful voice said from outside the van. There was only one emotion I felt stronger than fear, and that was blinding hatred for this massive pain in the ass of a man.

“You!” I screamed while scrambling out of the van. Some light chuckles could be heard as I tripped in the dirt and tried to lunge for him. Bright headlights from another van illuminated the varsity team, who were standing in a line with Oakley in the middle.

“What the hell is going on here? Hazing is hella against the law,” I yelled.

Dale, who was standing next to Oakley, spoke up. “We don’t like the term hazing here. This is a team building exercise.”

“I’m not a part of the team!” I yelled.

A low whistle to my right drew my attention. “She’s got the legs of a kicker though.”

“Enough,” Oakley interrupted with a stern look. “Tonight, you’re the ball, Solver.”

“Excuse me? Did you just compare me to inflated pig skin?”

“Ahh well, when you put it like that, no. No, I did not,” Oakley stammered. He looked flustered for a moment but then recovered with, “You’re the most important part of the game!”

“Game?! Hazing is a GAME to you? And on top of dragging me into this when I’m not even on the team, you are making me the ball. The ball that gets thrown, kicked, spiked, and bunted?” I screeched, only slightly resembling a banshee.

Oakley tried to stifle a laugh, but it managed to escape. Some of the other players tried to cover their laughter with coughs. Dead. They were all fucking dead.

“What?” I yelled at no one and everyone. My undone hair was hanging tangled, and my eyes were wide. The crazy was just spilling out of me.

“Uh,” Oakley started, but even my dark silhouette must have looked deranged, because he stopped and looked like he didn’t really want to continue talking.

“Spit it out,” I hissed.

“Um. Bunting is baseball. Punting is football,” he finished sheepishly. At least he had the decency to look ashamed of himself.

Dale, completely oblivious, interjected with, “And we don’t like the word hazing!”

“Let’s get this shit show over with,” I finally said with a sigh. Based on how long we were in the car and the complete lack of civilization, I knew that the only way I’d get back to the safety of my apartment was if I agreed to this idiotic ritual.