Page 85 of Kingmakers, Year One

“You’re gonna get fucking slaughtered,” Matteo’s brother Damari informs us.

“Maybe.” Leo grins. “But I like my chances better than yours.”

Calvin Caccia crosses his arms over his chest, frowning. He was chosen as Captain for the Juniors. And he probably feels some extra rivalry with Leo since he’s in line to become an Italian Don himself, in New York instead of Chicago. The Gallos and the Caccias have done business together in the past. Calvin and Leo will likely have to contend with one another outside of Kingmakers. How they fare against each other in theQuartum Bellummay set the tone for those encounters.

“Why is that, exactly?” Calvin says in his gravely voice.

Leo shrugs, smiling easily. “I always bet on myself.”

“Would you like to place a bet on the first event?” Calvin says. His blocky face is stern and unsmiling. Leo grins back at him, totally undeterred.

“What kind of bet?” he says.

“My team places higher than yours in the first competition,” Calvin says. “Loser comes to breakfast naked the next day.”

Leo laughs. “That’s a win-win for you, Calvin. Either you beat me, or you get to see me naked.”

The corner of Calvin’s mouth quirks up in the ghost of a smile and he holds out his large, calloused hand to shake. Leo returns his grip just as hard.

“As if you needed any more pressure on you,” I say to Leo, after Calvin has ambled off to refill his drink.

“I like to keep things interesting.” Leo opens his mouth to say something else, but he’s immediately interrupted by several fresh classmates who want to speculate on the upcoming events.

Leaving them to it, I head over to the bonfire to get a drink. Chay is messing with my speaker, trying to change the playlist.

“It’s repeating the same six songs,” she says. “How do I get it to?—”

“You’re not on the full list. You’re just doingMost Frequently Played.Here, let me?—”

The system is ancient. It was almost impossible to find a stereo that ran off batteries. Kingmakers has a huge generator that operates the electric lights and other systems that need power, but there’s almost no outlets anywhere on campus. That’s to help discourage students smuggling in phones, tablets, and so forth. We have to write all our assignments by hand, and the only news we get is via phone calls and letters from home. Even the phones are a single bank of repurposed booths that can only be used to call out on Saturdays and Sundays—no calls can come in, except through the main office.

“There,” I say, once I’ve switched over the playlist.

Immediately, my favorite song begins to play. I’ve heard it a thousand times, but I never get tired of it.

“Thanks!” Chay says.

“No problem. You been down here long?”

“About an hour. Sam isn’t here yet.” Chay pouts.

“Did he say he was coming?”

“Yeah. He comes to all the parties. He was the one who threw the rager in the Gatehouse last week.”

“Nice,” I say, trying to be polite. I don’t get the appeal of Sam Underhill. He’s your typical class clown personality, always willing to make a fool of himself for a laugh. Chay seems to love it, though, so I guess it works.

I can feel eyes on me, and I glance up, thinking it’s Leo.

Instead I see Dean Yenin standing on the other side of the fire staring at me. The moment he catches my eye, he starts walking over to me. I have an impulse to flee, but hold my ground.

Dean doesn’t stop until he’s right in front of me, his chest only inches from mine, so I have to tilt my head back to look up into his face. When Dean isn’t smiling, he looks furious, and I can feel Chay watching us curiously, unsure if Dean wants to hit on me or fight me.

“I was waiting for you,” he says in his blunt way.

I can feel myself blushing, hard as I try to fight it. I hate that he can embarrass me like this. I usually have such good control of my reactions.

“Dance with me,” he demands.

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