The Next Contestant Read Free Page A

left side. I feel rage at the man standing in front of me with eyes so wide, they might pop out. I’m sure I puked in his mouth, too. Well deserved, prick! That’s when I act fast, and with every ounce of energy, I kick him square in the balls. Not once, not twice, but three times for good measure. He keels over and I believe he’s threatening me, but his voice is so low, I can’t hear exactly what he’s saying.
    A crowd of guys rush forward and someone pushes me out of the way. As I stumble forward I feel a searing pain in my gut. Once I’m steady on my feet, I glance down at my shirt, and see blood. A lot of blood. I raise the blood soaked material to reveal a jagged cut gaping open, blood oozing from it. I think I’m in shock as I frantically search for Kolby, but there’s a mass circle of people surrounding him.
    Someone shouts, “Fight.”
    I stand there, unsure of what to do. I will my feet to move toward the crowd, to see if it’s Kolby who’s fighting, but I can’t move. I know it’s him, and I hope he’s winning, but pray he doesn’t kill the prick or the other way around. I don’t know. I’ve never seen my brother fight before.
    All these questions smother me, but my feet refuse to move. I’m standing here, shaking, and pressing my hand tight against my wound when I hear more yelling.
    “Call an ambulance,” someone screams.
    I collapse.
    I’m racing around the circle to see who’s hurt, but I can’t stop and I keep spinning. I catch a glimpse of Devin and his gang crowding into the black truck and they flee the scene; rocks spraying and dust clouds plume in wake of their departure.
    All shreds of light blink out….
    “Kimmi,” Kolby bellows. “Talk to me, Sis. You’re going to be okay, I promise.” Through the splinters of light, I see Kolby sitting next to me and I clutch his hand.
     

     
    I WAKE IN a stupor. Where am I? Oh, but I feel gut-wrenching pain in my abdomen and I moan.
    “She’s alive.” Kolby . He’s teasing me.
    “What happened? Why—” I flinch and rub my nose. There’s an NG tube irritating my nostrils and throat. I touch my abdomen, instantly remembering Devin’s knife. I lock eyes with Kolby. He has a black eye and a swollen lip. “Please tell me you won, that you beat the shit out of him?”
    “Yeah, I did, but the prick took off. Cops caught up to him later. Guess he got a DUI, and assault charges for what he did to you.” Kolby pushes from the chair and steps up next to me. Pointing to my abdomen, he says, “Doc said you’ll have a scar, but it will fade in time and it’s not that big. He punctured your bowel and they had to repair it. Did some sort of wash; a lavage, I think that’s what they called it, to clean out any leakage from your intestine.”
    A scar? I so want to look, but sort of don’t. I guess if it’s that bad, I could probably have plastic surgery. “Where’s mom and dad?”
    “Down in the cafeteria. Hopefully done freaking out about all of this. They’re threatening to pull you from Mills College and make you transfer to a different school so Devin can’t stalk or harm you if he doesn’t know where you’re at.”
    I don’t think so. “I’m not transferring to another college. Mom and Dad will chill out.”
     

     
    MONTHS LATER, AFTER I’ve fully recuperated, my parents finally get the ridiculous idea of me transferring schools out of their head.
    I’ve adjusted well. Guess it helps that my girls were there for me. They get me going and drag me out again. Although I’m not so sure it was for my benefit, but more on account of my brother, who they’ve all crushed on, like forever. I don’t blame them, and I love them more for dragging me to my brother’s soccer game when I spy out something delicious.
    Delicious is off limits.
    I want delicious and off limits.
    Delicious and off limits is Jax Nash.
    I want Jax Nash.

 
     
     
    YEAH, SO WE’RE a bunch of rich kids—scratch that—young adults. Sounds much