”“Was it Teresa Mazzarelli?”“I’ll never tell.”“Was it Nina Capelli?”“I’m sorry, but I cannot name her.”“Was it Cathy Piriano?”“My lips are sealed.”“Was it Rosa DiAngelo, then?”“Please, Father! I cannot tell you.”The priest sighs in frustration. “You’re very tight lipped, and I admire that. But you’ve sinned and have to atone. You cannot be an altar boy now for 4 months. Now you go and behave yourself.”Joey walks back to his pew, and his friend Franco slides over and whispers, “What’d you get?”“Four months’ vacation and five good leads...”This morning my son said his ear hurt, and I asked, on the inside or outside. So, he walks out the front door, comes back in and says both. It’s moments like this that gets me wondering if I’m saving too much for college.Jenny’s friend Debbie was complaining about a sore throat. “So,” Jenny said, “When I have that I always give a blow job to my husband and the next day I’m better. You should try it.” Next day, Debbie comes in singing. “How did it go?”. Anyone who’s ever been involved with a school club or event knows the participants are passionate about what they are doing. It’s how chess players and pet band members get labeled as geeks. Ashley was no different. ‘It’s not just ‘a school play’,’ she protested. ‘They need me, and I want to keep my disappointments to a minimum.’ ‘Well, just how big a part do you have?’ asked Joe. ‘I’m sure some one else could fill in.’ ‘No, they can’t. Not as well as me. You’ll see.’ ‘Even if you’re injured?’ he retorted. Ashley cut that conversation off by asking ‘Molly’ to bring up the TV display and ignored the rest of the comments. The next three days of class were difficult for Ashley. There wasn’t any extra pain, but moving between classes kept her ankle’s discomfort first and foremost of her thoughts. Kim’s texts weren’t helping. The first one on Monday was letting her know that the Trail Springs agent had blown her off. Ashley replied, asking her to keep trying, and to come up with other.
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