This is where my story really begins.After playing a long set, and having had a few drinks, Caroline needed a convenience break. Professor Striker to...d her the bathroom was at the top of the stairs. Second door on the right. She used the facilities, checked her make-up, reapplying lipstick, and exited when she ran smack into Professor Striker. He told her what a great job she was doing, and all their private lessons were really paying off. Not knowing he was looking down her blouse, and up. All I can say is we had to do some hard bargaining to get this to happen.”Smiling at what Kyle said the secretary says, “Kathleen, the Dean will see you now. Kyle, you can go back with her.”She leads the couple down the hall to the Dean’s office and ushers them inside. The Dean stands up, reaches across his large walnut desk, and shakes their hands. With the formality completed he invites them to sit in the leather wing-back chairs arranged in front of his desk.He says, “Kathleen, earlier this. She was dressed in a fuzzy, hot pink ,form fitting cashmere turtle necksweater, and cream colored hip snugged, flared skirt.Her hair was sweptback , gathered in a ponytail, held in place with a Hermes scarf. Ah, she was the epitome of Pa. Mainline grace, charm, and beauty wearing luscious red lipstick.Her skin the color of Lady Godiva , milk chocolate lit from within.My attention was drawn to her, because I felt her staring from across the crowed room, as I was standing at the bar passing out. Being a 14-year-old "very insecure" girl is no fun, let me tell you. I spent the rest of the week worrying about every little detail and imagining every little thing that could go wrong and was just about to throw in the towel by Friday.But it turned out that I wanted to go more than I wanted to stay safe. For some reason I was excited about this trip with my classmates, and I think I was also a little tired of always missing out on what looked like fun to me.Anyway, Saturday morning finally.