“Monty’s told me everything. And I’m not saying this to be a bitch, but you could benefit from therapy. It’ll help you stop feeling so threatened by other people’s success. Especially Monty’s.”

The Beav’s cheeks grew bright red flags. “Monty makes his living traveling to poetry slams and writing term papers for college kids who are too lazy to write their own.”

Sally’s fleeting expression of guilt made Dean suspect this was exactly how she’d met him. But she didn’t let herself be thrown off course for long. “You’re right, Monty. She is toxic.”

The Beaver clenched her jaw and started advancing on Monty again. “You told her I was toxic?”

“Not toxic in general,” Monty said, haughty as all hell. “Only to my creative process.” He poked his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. “Now tell me where the Dylan CD is. I know you found it.”

“If I’m so toxic, why haven’t you been able to write a single poem since you left Seattle? Why did you say I was your fricking inspiration?”

“That was before he met me,” Sally interjected. “Before we fell in love. Now I’m his inspiration.”

“It was two weeks ago!”

Sally tugged on her bra strap. “The heart knows when it meets its soul mate.”

“A crap mate is more like it,” the Beaver retorted.

“That’s cruel, Blue, and very hurtful,” Sally said. “You know Monty’s vulnerability is what makes him a great poet. And that’s exactly why you’re attacking him. Because you’re jealous of his creativity.”

Sally was even getting on Dean’s nerves, so he wasn’t surprised when the Beav rounded on her. “If you say one more word, I’m decking you. Got it? This is between Monty and me.”

Sally opened her mouth, but something in the Beav’s expression must have given her pause because she shut it again. Too bad. He’d have enjoyed seeing the Beav take her. Although Sal looked like she worked out.

“I know you’re upset,” Monty said, “but someday you’ll be happy for me.”

This guy had graduated right at the top of stupid class. Dean watched the Beav rise up on her paw tips. “Happy?”

“I’m not fighting with you,” Monty said hastily. “You always want to turn everything into a fight.”

Sally nodded. “You do, Blue.”

“You are so right!” With no more warning than that, the Beav hurled herself through the air, and Monty went down with a thud.

“What are you doing? Stop it! Get off me!”

He was screeching like a girl, and Sally hurried forward to help. “Get off him!”

Dean leaned against the Vanquish to enjoy the show.

“My glasses!” Monty howled. “Watch my glasses!”

He tried to curl himself into a ball as the Beav landed a chop to the side of his head. “I paid for those glasses!”