Sang is chosen for the Culling, a series of fights to the death that are generally played by men. In fact, Sang is the first woman selected, well, ever. As the games start, and Sang forms bonds with a group of nine men, she comes to realize that the...
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Sang
North stood across the room, arms crossed, as he continued to glare at my shirt. I felt myself flinch in response. What had I done? I didn't understand this at all.
Did he not like bears?
"Will you stop staring at her like that?" Victor, who was sitting next to me at President Hendricks' conference table, frowned at North. "She is going to think that you are mad at her."
North scowled even harder. An expression that I was afraid would become permanently etched into his face. "I'm not mad at her, I'm mad at Patricia." He explained, as if that made perfect sense.
Well, that was interesting.
I actually had thought that Patrick had been rather kind to give me his shirt. I put a finger to my lip as I considered this new development. Was it possible that North was jealous?
Or, perhaps, North had known Patrick before? Maybe they were childhood friends?
I couldn't imagine how. They were entirely different people in personality and demeanor.
I studied North again, as I tried to see him as a stranger might. I thought my hardest as I attempted to picture him covered in tattoos and being intimidating.
Actually, those last two things weren't very hard to do at all.
Maybe they did know each other. Could their friendship be salvaged? Could I help?
"Don't you even think about it." North had gone from glaring at my shirt to warily watching my face. "I know that look, and it will never happen."
I opened my mouth in shock. No way. I was not that predictable, was I? But before I had a chance to say another word, the conference room door flew open.
My grandfather and Uncle Lucas stalked into the room - murderous expressions on their faces. They were followed by all three of my equally unhappy cousins.
