The Hidden Princess At All-Boys Alpha Academy
Chapter 0513

bag but not moving to open it.

Jackson follows quickly - of course - and is already pulling himself up onto the platform before I've barely pulled the gun out of its bag. Jackson murmurs his admiration as I set up the gun and then he settles down with his back against the low rail, pulling a book out of his "What," I say, laying on my belly and turning to peer at him. "You're just going to watch?"

"Watch my gorgeous mate shoot a state-of-the-arts sniper rifle at a target five hundred yards out?" His face bursts into a smile. "Hell yes I'm going to watch."

I laugh, shaking my head at him as I turn back to the gun, concentrating. "Okay, just don't interrupt."

Jackson doesn't say a word in response and I honestly forget he's there, falling into a bit of a reverie as I go over the Captain's instructions about how to take aim, how to concentrate, how to pay attention to the elements as well as my own breathing. Then, slowly, I exhale and begin to shoot.

The first few shots go wide, but I adjust every time. And then, after a few pulls of the trigger, I'm gratified by the sudden grey hole in the fabric of the target. I grin, incredibly pleased, and shoot until I count ten bullets.

Then I sit up, and take the scope off of the gun, using it to peer at the target.

Three hits all erratic and nowhere near to the bull's eye.

But still, three hits.

I can't keep the smile off of my face.

"How'd you do?" Jackson asks, his voice a deep grumble in the morning light.

"I hit it," I say, shrugging, trying to play off how pleased I am.

But he just laughs at me, because he can feel it down the bond. He raises his chin at the scope. "Can I look?"

"Be my guest," I say, handing it over to him.

He whistles appreciatively and grins as he hands the scope back to me. "So what, we done here?"

The way he smirks at me lets me know that he knows my answer before I say it. "Oh, settle in, puppy," I sigh, making him laugh loudly at the renewal of Seraphina's nickname. "We're gonna be here for a lot of rounds."

Jackson stays completely silent as I practice, which I appreciate. I again sink into that concentrative zone, taking my time shooting rounds of ten shots and then sitting up each time to consider my progress, to make small adjustments that I hope will make me a better shot. By the time about an hour has passed - getting us dangerously close to missing our run with Rafe and Jesse - I've shot at least two hundred bullets. And the target is satisfyingly riddled with holes, though they're still scattered and far apart, none really coming close to the bull's eye - except for one, which happened when I sneezed.

So. That doesn't count.

I sigh as I sit up, stretching my arms over my head, still peering at the target which looks...so incredibly far away, now that I'm not looking at it through my scope.

"Nicely done, Clark," Jackson says, snapping his book shut and holding his hand out for the scope.

I hand it to him even as I start to pack up the gun. "How do you know it's nicely done?" I ask, smiling and pleased with my morning's work. "You haven't looked yet."

"Because," he murmurs, peering through the scope, "you did a good job concentrating and making adjustments. Honestly, Ariel, you're a good soldier. I'd have you on my team any day."

I grin at Jacks as he peers at my handiwork - guniwork? - and then gasp as I remember something the Captain said.

He immediately turns to me with a frown, concerned that's something's wrong, but I just lean forward and snatch the scope out of his hand. "Speaking of teams!" I say, kind of in disbelief that I forgot to bring this up last night - even if I did fall asleep over my chemistry book kind of moments after I finished eating my pasta. "What the hell are these Games the Captain mentioned!?"

Jackson's face bursts into a grin. "Wait, Ariel - how do you not know what the Games are?"