The Hidden Princess At All-Boys Alpha Academy

Chapter 0516

Luca sits down and we all lean forward as Rafe and Jackson take their folded notes and quickly open them, glancing through the contents. I lean over Jackson's arm, trying to read it myself, but he laughs and pulls it out of my sight. "Confidential, Clark."

"Oh, you're going to tell me anyway!"

"Maybe," he mutters. "If you're nice to me."

"I'm always nice to you!"

"It's not a big deal," Rafe says, taking a deep breath and putting his own note down, looking over at Jacks. "Is yours the same as mine? Notification that the Games are being moved up? And that we're..."

"Co-captains," Jackson replies, putting down his own letter, a little smile on his face. I look around at all of the boys' faces, trying to gauge the impact of this news.

"W-what does this mean?" I ask quietly, anxious.

"Don't get worked up about it, Ari," Rafe says, turning his eyes to me. "It's... faster than they'd usually run the Games, probably because of the war. It just means that Jackson and I have minor adjustments to our schedules so that we can begin to plan our strategy. We get a weekly study hall to meet and come up with our plan, look through Cadet profiles, organize our draft list."

I ask, screwing up my nose, looking around at everyone else, kind of baffled that they're all taking this in stride like it's completely

they'll pick their team," Luca says, grinning over at me. "Which Cadet they'll pick first, which last. Who is a priority, who isn't. I, obviously...will go very quickly." Jokingly smug, he gestures to himself with a

"Only after me, Grant. I've got the only sniper rifle on

at me, appalled. "Ari, I don't know if you're aware of this, but I am...a duke. It would be incredibly rude, as well as foolish, to not pick me first. Especially considering that I'm not the size of a small labrador and can actually throw a punch

snatching up a mini muffin and throwing it at him.

out of the

first," Jackson says, his voice booming out, rich and authoritative. He laughs a little, grinning at Jesse's appalled face, and then over at Rafe

up and down. "We'll see," he says, dubious. "At how good you get with that rifle. And

in on my plate of food eagerly, newly determined to make sure that I do get as good as I need to be -

because you will be a good shot by then and because I'm not letting you out of my sight in another battle scenario. Then he, too, concentrates on his food with gusto -

because I'm too busy

or four days the Captain sends me a note, letting me know that he's reviewed my targets and what changes he thinks I can make to my strategy and my form that will help me improve. When I start to be able to hit the bull's eye with accuracy, he sends instructions that I'm to make a line of bullets all the way down the target. When I can do that laying down, sitting, and standing, I arrive at the blind the next day to find the target moved

book on modern rifles and shooting strategy which I sigh and add to my growing list of reading material. But I don't complain

venly

but also because I'm determined to become the best sniper I can be in case we do