In Between the Lines

Chapter 12: The Old Man and the Sea (Part 2)

"What are you doing tomorrow night?" Dez asked, clasping his hands behind his back and smiling like a child carefully picking out their favorite candy in a shop.

I narrowed my eyes at him, not bothering to ask why it mattered as I felt the crux of his deviant plan coming on. "Spit it out, Desmond."

"We only have practices in the mornings on Wednesdays and none in the afternoon, so after school, a few of my teammates and I like to go to the batting cages. Girls come by to watch most of the time, and then we'll all usually grab food afterwards." He dipped his head, looking at me from beneath those thick lashes. "Will you come with me? Be my date?"

I stiffened.

He laughed softly. "Relax, Peacock. You'd just be my pretend date. You'd keep the girls off me and keep the guys from getting upset."

"And why should I help those assholes feel any better? They should be upset."

Dez's smile faltered slightly. He said after a heartbeat, "Don't do it for them, then. Do it for me."

At his tone, I felt my armor soften, just a smidge. But I still wasn't wholly invested as I said, "What would I be getting out of this?"

"Simple. You'd get to spend more time with me." Dez's right cheek dimpled. "Duh."

"Remember that thing you said about reminding you when you're being a tad too cocky?"

"Aw, come on, Peacock. It'll be fun. Imagine how pissed those guys will be when they see you there with me—right after you rejected all of them. Don't you want even a little revenge?"

"Of course I do." I shrugged. "But if you're trying to get them to stop feeling so bitter towards you, wouldn't me showing up with you just make them even more upset?"

"Maybe at first, but if this works like I think it will, no other girl will even bother to try and talk to me when I'm with you, which means they can focus their attention and flirting on the other guys—which means the guys will eventually forget about you and me. They are teenage boys, after all. It doesn't take much to distract them."

"You talk about these teenage boys as if you're not one of them," I noted dully.

"Maybe that's because I'm not." He wiggled his brows. "Maybe I'm secretly Edward Cullen and I'm actually a 100-something-year-old vampire—"

"You read Twilight?"

He grinned, folding his solid arms across his chest. "Is that so shocking?"

I was on the brink of saying yes, but as I looked at Dez, I realized that maybe it was futile of me to keep assuming I knew every bit and piece of his personality. Even if it was the fact that he read vampire romances.

So I chuckled. "No, I suppose it's not." And maybe that was what had made him so different from the other guys his age. Maybe he really was like Edward Cullen from Twilight—excluding the vampire bit, of course.

But it would certainly explain the honey-gold eyes.

Dez cocked his head to one side. "What did you say?"

"I said it wasn't surprising—"

"No." His lip twitched, on the verge of a smile. "You said something about my eyes?"

"What are you talking about?" I scowled at him, if only to hide the sudden pounding beneath my chest. My god, had I really said that out loud?

I must have put on a good show because Dez shook his head, suddenly looking as confused as I felt. "Nothing. Nevermind. Must've been the wind."