Chapter 11AT 6:45, the two couples climbed into the grandstand and found seats on the fifty-yard line, six rows up. A sleepy evening of deepening purple turned to day in the flood lights as the gladiators entered the coliseum. The national anthem played, and Fritz studied the field. “We who are about to die salute you.” Linda nudged his arm. “Sorry, I was thinking.” He glanced at the grinning faces surrounding him.
“I know. We heard.”
The game started at seven, but the stands were slow to fill. As kickoff approached, some students stopped to say hello. Rachel and Nicole said, “Hiii, Mr. Gilll-berrrt.” Jane looked at the girls, and Fritz turned to avoid catching an Ashley scowl. “Hi, girls,” said Ashley.
“Jane, they do that to him almost every day,” Fritz said. “He always lets them get a
