Attention and a Challenge

It wasn't long before Isabelle had her first beer in hand. The sensory overload of the party, the sheer number of people packed in a single space at once, the overlapping chatter of dozens of voices and the furious tapping at an array of holographic terminals almost paralyzed her. It was like a dream. Each time the intimidating admixture of older, college men and stunning, confident, young women got to her, she took another chug. Hovering at the sidelines, the party's intensity crashing vigorously against her, she chugged and chugged away, until her family and "the rules" became the dream, and this party became her life.

And of course, the young lady was noticed.

"So," said the broad shouldered guy who Isabelle could proudly say was four or five years older. "Introduce me to your friend, Sam."

Isabelle smiled bashfully, as she had been trained so well to do for the last eighteen years. "Me?" She asked, pointing to her exposed collar. She blinked her little doe eyes and rested the cold butt of her glass bottle on the top of her tit. His gaze followed the dripping perspiration.

"Sam's never mentioned you," he said, feigning offense at the exclusion but taking his eyes of his prize. The attention made her sizzle.

"I have definitely mentioned--"

"Well, clearly you didn't paint a very good picture," he said, soaking Isabelle in from top to bottom. "I would never forget someone like her if she was described... aptly."

Sam rolled her eyes. He reached out and took Isabelle's hand. "Corban Stakes," he said, giving it a shake, his grip tight and powerful in a way that would have scared her two beers ago. Her heart skipped a beat. "Son of Jason Stakes, and star pupil of the Venteera Hyperwire Academy. At your service."

The title didn't phase her. Dozens of sycophants in her father's orbit had tried to impress her with hundreds more. His body was another story. And the depth of his voice could take her all on its own.

"I'm Isa--"

"Iza," interrupted Sam, flashing Isabelle some reproaching side-eye. "Iza Rez. I have mentioned her. She's a friend of mine from the Thompson Managerial College."

"Oh, right. Of course." Isabelle cleared her her throat. She straightened her back, trying to stand taller while jutting out her chest at the same time.

"Thompson College, eh? Powerful vocation you're training for, managing that mess of a city and putting the lowlife's energy to good use." He inhaled, almost whistling, then let his gaze take a break from the view. His eyes pierced hers when they met. "Maybe some time you'd like an extra lesson in how to boss people around."

If there was a retort in her brain, it didn't make it to her throat. Subtle lines of current potent with information ran through his glossy, brown eyes. His iron gaze stole her voice, her will devoured by its hunger.

All other noise dulled. Her heart beat in her chest. Please, her thoughts clamored. Eat me up and leave nothing left. She felt her soul leaving her body.

"Iza's the best hacker on the block."

At the sound of her friend's sober voice, she napped back into her own flesh. She blinked and shook her head. The rancor of the party returned to her ears.

"That right?" he asked, giving her poor heart a break and turning to Sam. "Then why have I never heard of her?"

"Sign she doesn't leave a trace," said Sam proudly. "You think you'd know about the best hacker there was?"

Isabelle took a deep breath and swallowed another mouthful of beer. She rubbed the bottle against her cheek, the moisture basically boiling from her skin's heat. She needed to shove it between her legs.

Corban scratched his chin. "Guess not," he said, considering it. "Guess I just figured the meanest hacker this side of the 'burbs wouldn't be wearing a little red bowtie on her arm and be quite so... fresh."

Sam scoffed. "She could outpace anyone here even if she was wrapped from head to toe."

He smirked. "She would make a pretty present." His gaze slid back to her. "Well, why not put our credits where our mouths are. My body Marcus is here, he's set to be top of his class. Let's see who's really the best."

Isabelle goggled and turned to Sam. She stood, arms akimbo, not a lick of doubt in her face.

"A challenge, then?" she asked

"A challenge," he confirmed. "But there'd have to be stakes."

"Credits?" Isabelle ventured meekly, just happy her voice had come back.

"Not a chance." His eyes were still glued to Sam's. "Your girl loses, I get a go with her."

Every hair on Isabelle's body stood up.

"Not a chance," Sam retorted back, not losing a beat. "She's eighteen and off the table. Next choice."

"Fine," he said, folding his arms over his broad chest. "If not her on the table, then you."

All the air left Isabelle's lungs.

"I assume I get to chose what happens if Iza wins?"

"For what I'm getting," he said, sizing up Sam's tall and powerfully built body. "Anything."

Sam grinned and pointed at the large, central table around which all the holo terminals sat. "You eat me out there, on that table, in front of the whole party."

"Deal."

The two shook on it. Isabelle just gulped.