“If you were sick of getting your ass kicked, just say that.” The corner of his mouth lifts begrudgingly. “Oh, is that what you think?” “Let’s just say I can sense it.” I lean in, whispering, “I’m kind of a Psychic.” The last thing I see is a shake of his head before the world flips upside down. I squeal when he throws me over his shoulder, hair dangling and face angled toward the now-muddy ring. “Did you sense that coming, Little Psychic?” he calls over the shoulder I’m currently slung over.
