Once well off-campus, Shell plunged again into womanly chat.
“So. About this Mark. Spill.”
“Ah! So no ‘how’s your poor leg, Coach?’ Gossip first?”
Shell offered a sly nod.
“Well, okay then. Sorry to disappoint you, Shell, but it’s not as wild as it sounds. We had a thing way back. I was about at your stage. You a junior?”
“Nope,” straightening her shoulders. “Senior.” She couldn’t resist adding, “Do your homework, Coach.”
“I should, I should. Senior, eh? So June means we’re fellow alumnae. I like the idea.” Astrid reached a hand out to cup Shelley’s right hand, which rested at three o‘clock on the steering wheel.
“Gee, another ‘step’ for me!” Shelley was tickled. She slid her left hand along the wheel’s circumference to sandwich Astrid’s. “Cool .”
“I’ll let you drive”–Astrid withdr
