Page 11 of Baseball and Shifters

“Every term we will have a term-long project worth 80% of your grade. This term, you will design a new simplified marketing package for our esteemed Eldergrove Academy. You’ll come up with a new school logo that will be displayed in avariety of ways including the school's brochure, the cafe menus, and the team uniforms for all of our athletic teams. You’ll also create a package of graphics for advertising inside the stadium, and a brand new concept for our mascot, Stanley the Stag. It’s been more than twenty years since we’ve had an updated Stanley and it shows.” A few snickers sound off around the classroom as Professor Stone shows a large image of a sad looking stag in a variety of very obviously out-dated outfits.

An entire marketing package?That could be fun.

“To complete this assignment, you should familiarize yourself with the stadium, the sports, and most importantly, the fans. There will be a home baseball game this Saturday. I suggest you get a jump start on this project.”

Okay. I take it back. I have to actually go to games?

“I can show you around the stadium after class. Give you a leg up on the competition.” The sleazeball next to me winks. “I’m on the baseball team. I can even show you the locker room.”

“I’d rather fail this class than go anywhere with you.”

His eyes darken and I worry for a second that I went too far. Boys can be dangerous if you hurt their sensitive egos. But after a second he smirks.

“Feisty. I don’t mind a good chase if that’s your style.”

“Any questions before we get started?” Prof. Stone stops by our table and raises a weathered brow at my table mate.

“Can we work with partners?” he asks with a smirk.

“Why? Do you need Miss St. James’ help, Mister Hopper?”

He sputters beside me and I have to bite my lips to keep from laughing.

“The answer is no. You may not work with partners. This is not a team activity, Mister Hopper. Though I know you’re used to having your teammates do all the work while you take the credit. That won’t be happening in my classroom.”

Mister Hopperflushes a bright red and I work double time to keep a blank expression on my face as the professor turns and walks away, giving me a subtle grin as he does.

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Icarrythat team,” he mutters under his breath.

Right. Sure you do, bud.

Professor Stone makes his way back to the front of the classroom while he finishes explaining the syllabus for the term and what is expected of us. After that we’re dismissed to our second class of the day. Lucky for me I have the same Professor just in a different classroom in the elective building, Harold Hall.

Unfortunately for me Trent seems to be in this class as well, at least Maya and Aubree are here so I won’t be stuck next to him again.

My second class of the day passes faster than expected and next thing I know it’s time for Maya, Aubree, and I to meet Dallas for lunch. Time with the girls is just what I need after this morning. I can’t believe that Trent was in both of my classes. I swear if he’s in my next class I’m going to lose it.

Speaking of my next class… Why the heck do I have to take Self-defense?

I think this is going to be my least favorite class. I’m not exactly the most active. And fighting means I’ll be in close contact with people. People whom I don’t want touching me.

This is going to suck.

Taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out, I open the door and walk in like someone off to the gallows. A quick glancearound the room confirms my suspicions. Like my last classes, there are a lot more guys.

Damn it. There he is again.

Trent. The creep from Visual Arts, who’s also in my Film Studies class. Of course, he’d have to be in this class too.

His eyes light up and he smirks at me. Rolling my eyes, I book it in the opposite direction. Avoiding him and the dangerously sexy guy standing next to him, who’s tall and broad-shouldered, with sleek black hair perfectly styled and warm brown skin that reminds me of melted caramel.

The room looks just like any other, with tables and chairs. I don’t know how they expect us to learn any kind of self-defense in here, but I take a seat as far away from everyone else as I can. Maybe this class will be less physical than I thought.

“Good afternoon, class,” says the stunningly beautiful blonde standing at the front of the room. She looks like she could’ve stepped straight off a fashion runway. Thin and lean with sunkissed skin and a bounce to her step that screams high-energy. “Welcome to Self-defense! My name is Ms. Rains and I’ll be your professor.”

Her bubbly personality and over-excited tone give me pause. If I didn’t know better I would think she was a student or maybe a model that fell out of the pages of a fashion magazine and landed here. She doesn’t seem like the type to enjoy self-defense or want to teach it. Regardless I’m happy to have a female teacher who seems approachable rather than the hulking intimidating man I imagined would be teaching us.

“Today we’re just going to go over the rules and expectations then you can dip out early. I know it’s been a long first day.” She smiles, showing off brilliant white teeth, before spinning to grab something off her desk, flipping her long blonde ponytail.

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