“Since you hooked up with that newspaper delivery guy from history class,” he said.
“Elliot?”
“Is that his name? Goofy, lanky dude who digs comic books and chick-flick romances.”
“Elliot was the best thing that happened to me.”
“I always pegged you as a jock type. During our football games, I caught you staring at the tight ends most of the time.”
“You really don’t know me.”
“What happened to you and Elliot?”
“Like I said, you really don’t know me.”
“I know you and Big E liked to make out in his parents’ BMW in the school parking lot during lunch break.”
“You watched us?”
“I peeked.”
I smirked. “Did you enjoy what you saw?”
“Dudes aren’t my thing.”
“However, it’s been rumored—” I started to say, but he cut me off.
“Rumored?”
“That you pitch for both teams.”
“Who said that?” Defensive, his eyes squinted into question.
I felt myself starting to laugh and turned away, gazing up at the full moon, a ready smile tugging the corners of my mouth.