Page 124 of Left on Base

JAXON

A temporary break in play, usually indicated by the umpire.

Here’s the thing about Psych 101 at 8 a.m.—it’s every bit as brutal as it sounds. Especially when you spent half the night “studying” with a girl who makes you forget why you ever thought keeping things casual was smart.

I’m trying to focus on Professor Chen’s lecture about cognitive biases, but all I can think about is Camdyn slipping on my baseball hoodie and sneaking out of my room this morning. The way she kissed me goodbye, fighting a smile. The way I wanted to pull her back into bed and forget class even existed.

“Yo, Baseball Boy!”

Speaking of cognitive biases, here comes Fork Guy, shuffling down the aisle and dropping into the seat beside me. He’s wearing the most bedazzled eye patch I’ve ever seen—like Claire’s Jewelry store exploded on his face.

“Nice patch,” I whisper, side-eyeing him as his backpack thuds to the floor. “Very pirate chic.”

Pause here. You’re probably wondering what Fork Guy actually looks like. Picture T.J. Miller in Deadpool, add a bejeweled eye patch and they could be twins.

“Thanks!” he says, grinning wide enough to show the gap where his left canine used to be. “The ER nurse said to keep it covered, but she didn’t specify how fabulous the covering needed to be.” He adjusts the patch with a flourish, and I finally spot the tiny plastic forks glued around the edge, wobbling as he turns. “So, how’s Bush Girl's chin? Did you two, you know…” He wiggles his fingers in a way that’s supposed to be suggestive, but looks more like he’s casting a spell.

“Are you asking if we hooked up or if we’re having a medical emergency?” I deadpan, raising an eyebrow.

“Duhhhh.”

He didn’t answer me, did he? “That’s none of your business.” I roll my eyes, but I’m grinning anyway, sliding a little lower in the hard plastic chair. “She’s fine. The chin’s healing.”

“And the emotional forks? Did those get... addressed?” He waggles his eyebrow, leaning in conspiratorially.

Before I can answer, Emerald—aka Crystal Girl—floats into the row ahead, trailing patchouli and jangling bracelets. Her usual pile of healing stones and tarot cards covers her desk as she arranges everything with laser focus. Fork Guy straightens so fast I hear his neck crack, his good eye fixed on her.

“Dude,” he hisses, clutching my sleeve. “Help a brother out. What’s a good line for a girl who’s into spiritual stuff?”

“Please don’t,” I mutter, trying to focus on lecture notes.

“No, seriously. I need some rizz. Some game. Some fork-free charm.” He’s grinning like an overcaffeinated raccoon.

“I don't think?—”

“Hey, Emerald,” he calls out, ignoring me. “Did it hurt when you fell from heaven? Because I’m sensing some celestial energy in your aura.”

Oh god.

Emerald looks up from her crystal grid, her mouth a thin line of confusion as she pushes her glasses up her nose. “Actually, Mercury is in retrograde, so all celestial energy is currently misaligned.”

Fork Guy turns to me, panic flaring in his one visible eye. “What does that mean? Is that good? Should I get my chakras checked?” His voice is barely above a whisper, desperate.

I pull out my phone and text Camdyn under the desk, trying not to laugh.

Jaxon

911

Fork Guy is trying to hit on Crystal Girl

He just asked about her celestial energy

Send help

Camdyn

NOOO

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