Wicked Luck

  ~A donation for Ava’s training fund!

  I’m laughing so hard that my gut actually hurts. Worried Ava can hear me, I glance up at the entrance to the cave. She’s not glaring back at me, so she must be asleep again. The smart thing would be to replace the journal while she’s asleep before she discovers it’s gone, but now I don’t know if I can. I have to read more.

  I don’t even know this Preston guy, but I like him already. Not sure why she seems to like him so much though. He’s obviously got the looks of a Greek god, but he served her a hefty portion of humiliation and mockery, which in my mind should dock him some points in the looks department. But noooo… I have to find Preston, she said, right before she told me to go away. Huh. Maybe the reason she doesn’t like me is that I’m too nice.

  What was I thinking, trying to be her knight in shining armor? I rescued her from drowning, risked my own life to save her from a suicidal escape, and fetched her food and water, only to have her hate me because I’m not him. And now I’m sure that’s the reason, because last time I checked, I wasn’t that bad looking. I’m tan, fairly buff, and have managed to keep up my personal hygiene despite being stranded on an island. And I love a good competition, but this is just weird. I am competing against a guy that’s MIA and probably dead, but for some reason, I still feel like the one with a disadvantage.