Had this all been a massive mistake?The drunk blonde at her feet burst into another fit of giggles. "I'msooo, sorry!" She paused short of breath from all the laughter. "I lostmy balance." Esme slammed the door shut, more than aware of the howls oflaughter behind her. She threw herself on the bed and stared up at theceiling. If she went back now, everyone would know she'd failed. Shecouldn't face that.She heard voices from the other side of the door and buried her face deepinto her pillow. "Please go away," she muttered to herself. "If I stayquiet will you go away?" She should have turned her lights off and keptthe door locked. They would have left for whatever skank nightclub theywere headed to soon enough.There was a gentle tapping at the door. "Go away!" The tapping kept up.She had no choice but to open it, slightly.It was the blonde girl. "Hey, don't be like that," she said, in asouthern accent, the kind she recognized from American soap operas. Whywas the south the worst part. But Tim Murphy was in a class all on his own. He could not wait to get Tim out on the practice field and to confirm the reports they were getting as to his athletic prowess or finding out it was all a bunch of bull. He hoped the reports were true, but was wary of such glowing accolades even before seeing him on a field for himself.“Well, come on, ladies, get inside so we can get started.”Walking down the main aisle of the school’s auditorium, the first thing you notice is the rich dark wood paneling of the walls, and the transition onto the stage. The stage curtain was a deep red with the ever-present ‘TR’ insignia in blue bordered in white right in the middle. It lined up perfectly with the aisle we were walking down to reach a seat. Guys were quickly filling up the front rows, not seat to seat but always leaving a seat or two empty between themselves.At the end of the aisle at the first seat of the first row stood Coach Barrett armed with a clipboard and welcoming guys as they took.
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