Malachi grinned, glad that Erica knew he was goofin’, with the hand kissing and stuff. When she started bragging on her team and talking about how they were going to take the cup, He showed her the palm of his hand, “Pffft! Please, little girl! That smack talk don’t rattle my cage. You’re gonna have to ride your broom, not your mouth to victory!”

In a large bowl, Mal tossed the blackberries, sugar, flour, tapioca, lemon zest and a few spices. Then he began to roll out his dough for his piecrust, “I’m around, angel. I go out on my bike, I hang out with friends in their rooms, I go to parties and, if I get really bored, I drop by detention. What about you?”

This Erica chick was really cute, Malachi thought, trying to check her out while she wasn’t looking. He wondered if she knew Colby. Twice this week he had run into hot sophomore girls…was God trying to tell him something? This amused him. Yeah, the big guy was real interested in getting him laid…especially with girls two years younger than him. Why did those two years seem like five? Placing the bottom crust in his pie pan, he looked over and gave Erica a wink.