Knox: I figure you’ll give it to me eventually. Besides I do know your softball schedule. Did you pick your team based on the name?
Me: The Horny Toads? That’s a real animal. And no. I was randomly assigned because I didn’t have a team last year.
Knox: Google tells me there is no such animal named the horny toad. A horned toad, yes. Horny no.
Me: Are you a biologist? I could have sworn your SI profile said International Relations major.
Knox: I like that you have my bio memorized.
If I meant to deter him I’m not doing a good job of it. At this point, I don’t know what I should do. I know what I want. That’s to jump into Knox’s brawny arms and let him carry me away. I’m not convinced that’s what I should do.
Me: Maybe I’m hot for your brother.
Knox: Nah. You already told me he’s weak with weird eyes. I shared that with him and he’s upset so you’ve got no chance. You’re stuck with me.
Me: So you’re saying if I insult you, you’ll go away.
Knox: Nope. Now I know it’s your strange way of flirting with me. I think that’s called negging.
Me: You think I’m negging you?!
Knox: Negging—insulting someone to gain their attention. If the shoe fits…
Me: The shoe does not fit! I am not negging you.
Knox: Don’t worry, baby. I know I’m irresistible but you don’t want to appear overeager. I’ll see you at your softball game on Wednesday.
Me: What? No!
But he doesn’t respond.
The rest of the morning passes in a blur until I hit my last class of the day—the second of Jack’s classes I’m auditing. Politics and Games turns out nothing like I expect. It’s not really about games, but game theory, which I don’t understand. From the moment that the professor opens her mouth to the minute that the TA hands out the assignments at the end of class, I’m worried. Jack sits rigidly in his chair, his pen poised, but no notes hit paper. Three girls managed to position themselves around him, but their chairs could be empty for all the attention he gives them.
Five minutes before class is over, I start to pack up. I need to get out of there before Jack turns around. If the theoretical class is difficult for me to get, it’s a hundred times harder for Jack. He should drop it, but I don’t even know how I’d bring that up. Oh by the way, Jack, I passed by your political science class and it seems like a mind fuck. Maybe you should drop.
After the way he responded to my mere suggestion of visiting the learning center, I’m sure that this proposal would be met with the same disinterest.
???
“Left field okay with you, Eliot?” Ryan Schneider asks. Ryan’s the team captain. About an inch under six feet, he’s trim, attractive almost to the point of prettiness, and a damn good pitcher.
“No, problem.” I slap my hand into my new glove. It feels stiff and weird. I’ve never played softball before, but Ryan assured me that The Horny Toads only care about having fun, unlike some of the other teams.
Megan Billings, a biology major who’s tamed her wild hair into two bushy ponytails, points to the bleachers behind home plate. “Wow, look who showed up to watch the game today!”
I don’t even have to look. I feel Masters’ eyes boring into my back. Ryan’s head pops up and his eyes widen. “Is that Knox Masters?”
“Yeah, and I think the other guys must be on the team too. Look at the guns on those guys.”
“You’re drooling, Megs.” Ryan points a finger at her face.
Her dark eyes sparkle. “I wouldn’t be human if I wasn’t drooling a little. Right, Eliot?”
“Call me Ellie,” I respond automatically. As to whether she should be drooling over Masters? I have no comment on that.
“Good thing we’re fielding first,” Megan gloats as she grabs my wrist and leads me to the outfield. She’s playing center. “That way we can ogle the manflesh.”
I figure I better confess to her that I know the team, or at least part of them. “The guy with the brown hair sitting on the left side is my brother Jack. He’s a tight end for the Warriors.”
“Ohhh.” She slaps a hand over her mouth. “Is it okay that I’m objectifying your brother?”
“Sure, have at it.” I laugh.
“So they’re here to support a teammate’s sister. Cool. I wonder if we should try to win now.”
“Let’s not ruin a good thing because some football players have nothing better to do with their Wednesday night,” I reason, and then move away to left field.
As the night wears on, we wind up winning despite Ryan’s assertion that the Horny Toads aren’t interested in keeping score.
“Nice fielding tonight, Campbell,” Ryan gives me a high five and then slaps his glove against my butt in what I guess is a victory slap. He gives it to the rest of the eight players. “Any one up for The Gas Station?”
Half the team raises their hands. The other half shakes their head.
“How about you, Eliot?” Ryan asks.