God, he looked good! The classic black suit made him look almost too elegant for his age. He was accompanied by two girls, a pretty red head she has...seen a few times these past weeks and a taller blonde. The giggles continued as they came up the hall. When Liam saw Sandy he flashed an apologetic look as if embarrassed by the two bimbos. No, that’s not fair, the red head seemed so sensible, she must be drunk or otherwise preoccupied.‘Hi, Ms. Hernandez’, Liam’s deep voice stirred her. The note takers scribbled. "There are going to be some changes. Perhaps a lot of changes. Change number one: Mr. Harder is no longer with the team. His contract, of course, will be paid for the rest of the season if need be. Here is the new manager." She gestured at me, said my name and I started to stand. She waved me back down. "The rumors, for a change, were right."Two reporters jumped up and began to ask something loudly, stumpy microphones in their hands. Andrea looked over her skinny. But he was weak, and called out nothing more than "Hey Mike, please come back..."Mike didn't listen, and walked back to the mats. He fixed the chain around his broad neck, and brushed the silver medallion off his brown aureole where it had caught, so it could nestle between his thick chest slabs. Before he could resume his routine, the coach called him though, barking at him to go up to the nurse's station for his annual check up. It wasn't just walking through the whole school wearing. Because smoking was like nothing else on earth. It was the centre of her being, it was the greatest delight of her life – yes, even more than fucking – which she knew Charlie would never understand.Tracy’s cigarette was still firmly clasped in her mouth, for so long now that her saliva was causing the cork end to soften and adhere to her lips, and she had lost count of the number of multi-pumps she had taken. The as-yet-untapped ash-end was now at least a third of the length of the cigarette.