The lunchroom that they met in was cold, much too cold for December at least, and Beth pulls her cashmere coat tightly around her small frame. It was a gift from Cal, two years ago. A Christmas present, she remembered. God, won't someone turn on the heat in here? Wait, no Beth, don't ask, it makes you look needy. No, she'd rather be cold than complain to these people. They'd beckon to her wish, of
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showed last 75 words of 763 total
her son couldn't accomplish. Her son and the rest of her friends had left her in the dust; no one had even bothered to mention it to her.
She remembered for a moment, that Cal hadn't been aware of Con quitting the team either, although it didn't really matter to her what Cal knew. She silently thought, as she returned to the excruciating pain of this meeting, I've always been too good for cheese puffs.