DECEMBER, 1986
1.
So now it seemed the ostracizing was finally complete. The last of my friends on campus – my former teammates – now felt that I’d betrayed them in favor of some sleazy local broad. None would talk to me except to hurl insults as we crossed paths between classes.
Oh well. Like the coach, they were ignoramuses who had idea what sublime wonders were open to one who had finally found a wonderful Mistress to love. Soon I started cutting classes again, and why not? It was far too late in the semester for me to catch up, and my scholarship was history already anyways. I even began to skip Mistress’ class. The memory of my failure was too painful; I couldn’t bear to look at her beauty and recall the disgusted look on her face after our last encounter.
In penance for this I st
