A Wager

Ryan

“I feel like we’re in college again,” Jacob murmurs as we lean against the side of one of the earthen buildings on the outer ring of the village. He rolls his shoulders before crossing his arms over his chest, purposefully flexing.

Andrew leans forward to peer at him, snorting, “Yeah, and just like in college, the chances of you getting’ any tail tonight is slim to nonexistent.”

“I’ve put on like thirty pounds of muscle since then,” Jacob hisses, flexing his biceps in emphasis.

I’m standing between them with my arms crossed as we watch the group of hunters–two dozen or so, by my estimation–prepare for the hunt. One group is entirely female and has my group's full, unwavering attention.

“Do you remember the night,” Andrew laughs, pointing an accusatory finger at Jacob, “when you brought Gretchen Crosby to the fall formal afterparty?”

“I don’t want to talk about that–”

“And her boyfriend showed up, and instead of kicking his ass and taking her back to our dorm room, you ended up