Page 64 of Alpha Varsity

Art that represents us.

Art that tells a story or conveys a meaning. Art that will show Lotta how much she destroyed me. Maybe also give her a glimpse of what she meant to me–means to me.

I’ve been cutting out tiny pictures from magazines and collecting small mementos, like the logo torn from a Wolf Ridge Sweet Treats bag, and the corner of the first math test I got an A on after she started tutoring me.

Now that I know she’s my mate, I don’t feel asdemented for saving this shit. For keeping that pendant of hers in my dresser all these years.

My phone buzzes with a text, and I glance down, expecting it to be Abe or Seb or Markley.

It’s Lotta.

Please say you’re coming soon.

My lips quirk, and my dick gets chubby. It’s the first time Lotta’s texted me. For some reason, it feels like a small victory. There’s a level of comfort we crossed after the picnic.

Feeling needy?

I text back.

Yeah. Need to drown my sorrows with something better than a cocktail.

This cock is definitely better.

I pause, digesting what she said.

What sorrows?

Meh. Olive and I visited a couple of galleries in Scottsdale but they wouldn’t even look at my art. It’s fine.

It’s not fine. I want to slay dragons for her now, but I don’t imagine me charging down to art galleries in Scottsdale is going to do much good.

I was trying to finish an essay but fuck it. I’ll be right there.

I slap the laptop shut. My mom looks over from the counter where she’s meal-prepping for the next few days. “Are you finished, hon?”

“Uh, not quite. But I’m taking a break.”

“Do you have a girlfriend, Asher?” my mom asks.

Crap. I guess I haven’t been too slick about hiding where I’ve been going.

I’m not one to lie to my mom. Shifters can smell lies, so she would know, and it would only be hurtful.

“Yeah. Sort of.”

“Doessort ofmean you’re slipping out to see her every night?”

I let out a chagrined chuff. “Yeah.”

My mom folds her arms over her chest. “I thought so.” She seems pleased. There’s a twinkle in her eye. It definitely wouldn't be there if she knew who I was sneaking out to see.

“Well, I’m sure I don’t need to have a discussion with you about protection, do I?”

“Definitely not,” I say quickly. “We’re good.”

“So, when do I get to meet this girl?

Never.

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