Page 16 of Baseball and Shifters

“About you? Pft. I know more than you’d think.”

“Maybe youshouldn’ttake psychology. You’re dangerous enough as is. You don’t need any more advanced knowledge of the shifter psyche.”

“I’ll be unstoppable,” Dallas agrees, playfully tossing her hair over her shoulder.

“How’d you know there was a guy?” Maya asks.

“She has a tell.” Dallas shrugs.

“I do not!” Aubree gasps.

“Do too. You do it every time you meet a guy. That guy in sixth grade with the frosted tips, the guy from the local ice cream shop who always puts extra toppings on your sundae, or how about the surfer cali boy from that summer camp we went to in sophomore year. Shall I go on?” Dallas raises a brow.

“Yes, you should. What exactly is my tell?”

“Oh, I’m not telling. You’ll stop doing it if I do. Or you’d try anyway. Can’t have that.”

I try to hide my chuckle but Aubree must hear it because she snaps her head in my direction.

“Something funny? Maybe you wanna tell Dallas aboutyourguy.” Aubree levels me with a glare.

“What? What guy?” I ask, definitely trying to avoid this conversation.

“You know what guy. The hot one in Math that won’t stop staring at you,” she teases.

“Not just Math. He’s in our English class, too,” Maya chimes in, with a grin.

“Et tu, Brutus?” I sigh for dramatic effect.

“Sorry.” She shrugs, clearly not the least bit repentant.

Dallas’s eyes ping-pong around the room, a slow smile creeping across her face.

“Well? Tell me all about it! It’s not fair that everyone knows about this hot guy but me. It’s bad enough I don’t have any classes with any of you. You can’t hold stuff out on me,” she pouts.

“It’s just some guy. He’s in a few of my classes. There’s really nothing to tell.”

“A few? He’s in more than just Math and English?” She keeps digging.

I think Aubree’s right. She doesn’t need a psych degree.

“He’s in my self-defense class too. But that doesn’t mean anything. There are a lot of students who are in multiple classes with me. This one absolute douchebag is in all of my Tuesday and Thursday classes. Thank God he’s not in my English or Math class.”

I might end it all if I had to put up with Trent every freaking day.

“I don’t know who I want to talk about more, the hot guy or the asshole,” Dallas muses.

“How about neither?”

“How aboutboth.”

“Why am I friends with you?” I glare at her.

“Just lucky, I guess.” She smiles back.

“You already know about the asshole,” Maya says. “She’s talking about Trent. That kangaroo creep she had the misfortune of meeting Tuesday in Visual Arts.”

“Oh. Yeah, I know about him. I thought you were holding something else back. Is he giving you more problems?” Dallas asks with a look that clearly says she will murder him in his sleep, “Because I can take care of him for you.”

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