That afternoon I had not been sure which team I was to practice with, the varsity or the 'B' team until Coach Nelson called my name and made it official; my play during the Friday night game entitled me to a permanent place on special teams. He instructed one of his assistants, Mr. Horn, to take five of us to the other end of the field to work on kick-off and punt returns. Soon the field-goal kicker, his snapper and holder joined us. Mr. Horn spent most of the afternoon introducing the signals and having us run on and off the field, calling the name of the person we were replacing to alert him to get off the field. By the end of practice I noticed that my fellow members of special teams referred to Mr. Horn as Coach or Sir, kept moving and never removed their helmets during practice.As I ran home I could not help but think how proud Ned would be of me. I would have to thank him for reminding me to remember my training. In three weeks I had progressed from practicing with the freshmen. After a few minutes, I heard her crying. Her head was hanging down in her hands “What have I done,” she mumbled. Sasha was wearing a tight dark blue mini dress with matching stockings and heels. She was also shivering a bit too. She didn’t hear or see me walk out until I draped a blanket over her shoulders to keep her warm. She slightly jumped when she saw me. “Would you like a drink to warm you up?” I asked as I handed her a steaming mug of hot chocolate.“Bret, why are you being nice to me? I know I don’t deserve it. I messed things up.”“What are you talking about messing things up?”Sasha explained she’s had a crush on me since she started. She finally had gotten up enough courage to ask me to have drinks tonight and was even going to ask me out on a real date. Her so-called friends were getting jealous because they found out she was going to ask me out. They thought she was prettier than them so I would have accepted. They decided to sabotage her night.“The girls said you.
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