All Stars (part 2 of 48)

a Original Fiction fanfiction by Al Kristopher

Back to Part 1
July 31st, Tuesday, private residence on Carnegie campus

7:08 am

            Leena and Kathlyn Parkin-Katajisto were laying uneasily in 
the small bed they shared, trying to adjust to their new surroundings 
and the sensations they were causing.  They both knew what it was like 
to move to a new place--who didn't?--but it had been so long since their 
last transition that the whole experience was rather surprising, like 
eating a tart after days of dull bread and water.  But make no mistake:  
they were also euphoric with the possibilities before them, antsy about 
the judgments and decisions they would have to make (Katt decided to be 
a member of the team "staff"), uncertain about their chances, and proud 
that they had been selected out of so many.  They laid in bed, stiff and 
cold from their first unsettling night, having chosen to skip out on any 
romantic pursuits.  When they did finally muster up enough discipline to 
actually get out of their bed, they were greeted by a tiny castle, made 
up of all the bags and boxes they had stuffed and lugged inside.  Only a 
small number had been opened, mostly to unearth necessities; they had 
spent too many hours bringing everything inside and prioritizing what 
they simply HAD to take out.  Now all this responsibility loomed before 
them--this, and the daunting task of forming a team capable of holding 
their own against more renowned colleges.

            "Never a dull moment," Leena groaned.

You complete my fate

The world unwinds inside of me

You complete my fate

The halo crawls away

You repeat my fate

Rewinding all we can

You refill my place

You refill my place

Come and save me

Come and save me

You complete my fate

The heavens stroll inside of me

You repeat my fate

Revealing who we are

You refill my place

You refill my place

Come and save me

Believe in me

Drink the wine

Take my hand

Fill me up

Believe in me

Drink the wine

Take my hand

Let me follow

"Many are Called, but Few are Chosen"

            "Is this good enough?" Kathlyn asked, her voice perky with 
hope.  Leena had asked her to write an advertisement describing the 
conditions for applying to the new team, and whenever she wasn't helping 
her wife move, Katt put herself to the task.

            "Let me take a look."

Attention Students!

For the first time since its inception, Carnegie University will have 
its very own soccer team.  We are currently seeking male and female 
students who would like to sign up for positions.  Athletic experience 
is important, but not mandatory.  If you would like to try out, please 
study the information provided below:

Men's team:  meet Mr. Warren and Coach Bracton in the new field between 
11:00 am and 2:00 pm, Wednesday August 1st thru Monday August 6th.

Women's team:  meet Coach Parkin-Katajisto in the new field between 2:30 
pm and 5:30 pm, Wednesday August 1st thru Monday August 6th.

The new field is located right next to the Fitness Center, which is 
adjoined to the Student Center.  Please park in the designated areas.

For more information, contact staff directory at () or email them at ().

            "Not too bad," Leena said, her appraising smile fair.  
Kathlyn was not a skilled writer, but she could be clear and direct, and 
that's what mattered most.  "Very straightforward and informative.  Did 
you give Mr. Warren a copy?"

            "Yeah, he said he'd deliver them to as many places as he 
could.  We'll probably get more than we bargained for.  Tomorrow'll be 
busy."

            "Looks like today will be busy as well," Leena said, sighing 
as she looked at the wall of boxes and bags surrounding them.  They had 
only recently shipped the last of their belongings into their new 
house--the entire process was mainly handled by a moving company, while 
they left themselves the task of going through forms and files.  After 
their brief meeting with Dean Rosewood, Leena and Kathlyn had taken the 
rest of their stuff to their new house, and settled in for a quick 
lunch.  There would be no time to unpack just yet:  Kathlyn needed to 
finalize her registration and Leena needed to get moving.  Because they 
were still new in town and needed the extra time to adjust, they had 
negotiated for the later time slot for try-outs.  After finishing their 
lunch, they would have to give Warren his copies, and split up so that 
all the main venues were aware of the change.  Of course, word of mouth 
helped spread their cause around, but this was just for people who, for 
whatever reason, didn't have a social life.

            "We need to hire a maid," Katt grinned, pointing to the 
surrounding clutter.  "I guess most of this will fall on my shoulders.  
You're really worse off than me."

            "I don't want to look at it like that," Leena replied 
coolly.  "I mean, yeah, it's always 'entertaining' trying to sift 
through potential candidates, but there's a lot of fun to be had as 
well.  That doesn't mean I don't envy you, honey."

            "I still have to worry about that part-time job," she 
sighed.  The two lovers kissed each other before heading into the 
outside world; the break was over and it was time to get back to work.  
Rosewood had asked for two soccer teams to be formed by Tuesday the 
7th--at least twenty-two people in a week--and every hour was vital.

            "But if it's so important," Leena grumbled as she headed out 
into the cheery weather, "why did they wait until now to pass the 
motion?  They could've started this several months earlier.  I hate 
being rushed."

            Arthur Warren, history teacher and part-time high school 
baseball coach (called "Sanjuro" by friends and gutsy students), was 
standing patiently in the school library as he made several dozen copies 
of the new soccer pamphlets.  Although he had turned down the position 
of coach, he still wanted to give Rosewood a hand, if for no other 
reason than to show up the pretentious Chairman.  He was therefore asked 
to spread word about the new team, and was given every venue possible:  
he went online, told several of his friends, made some calls, and now he 
was copying fliers to pass out.  Warren wasn't just wasting his time 
staring at the machine as it spat out one leaflet after another:  he was 
appraising every student that came into the library with the eyes of an 
experienced sportsman.  Soccer and baseball may be different, but he was 
skilled at spying out talent.

            One of the student librarians in particular had caught his 
eye.  She seemed to embody the clichéd scholar:  a kind, meek woman 
walking around with an inferiority complex, never one to inconvenience 
anybody, mature and bright but very unsure of herself, and quite 
artistic.  She was the antithesis of a sportswoman, and perhaps the last 
person one would ever place on a team, let alone one with such lofty 
goals.  But she had been a student of Warren's before (when she took 
European History), and he knew, through after-class discussions and 
casual eavesdropping, that she was interested.  The problem was that she 
only enjoyed soccer for its aesthetic value, and rarely applied herself.  
But Warren knew she had potential, if only she wasn't so self-effacing.  
He decided to make an offer, and left his post.

            "Hey, you ready for the new semester?" he asked smoothly.

            "Oh, hello, Mr. Warren!  Are we behaving ourselves today?"

            "I am, but what about you?"  She giggled.

            "It's unusual to hear you say that.  Normally you don't 
behave yourself."

            "Oh, I'll have to get into trouble later, so I'm trying to 
be as good as possible until then."

            "Nothing illegal, I hope."  He clicked his tongue:  busted.

            "Oh, I'll be bending a few rules.  I'm supposed to spread 
the word about the new sports team the board approved of, and I've been 
thinking about dropping in on the Lily Club.  Hell, I might even poke my 
nose in that Out and About place."

            "Mr. Warren!" she scolded him.  "You know those places won't 
allow you inside!  You may as well ask to visit the ancient Amazons."

            "Uh, yeah," he grumbled.  Oh, if only she knew...!  "That's 
where I was hoping you'd come and help me out."  She blinked humbly, 
taken aback at his proposal.

            "Me?"

The world is her palate, an artistic extension of her soul.

Hesitant, skittish, and cynical, but quick to make peace.

The path before her is straightforward, but she relishes a sharp curve!

Elisa Berkeley

            "Sure.  You're a lady, Berkeley; you'd be able to weasel me 
in.  Besides, don't think I'm unaware of your...interest."

            "You mean in the game," she stated, not feeling entirely 
certain.  Elisa didn't expect her former teacher to have that kind of 
angle.

            "It's just a proposal," he said, handing her a copy of the 
flier Kathlyn gave him.  "Listen, don't think I'm twisting your arm or 
anything.  I know you've never shown an interest in sports, but it might 
be nice to look into.  If there's one surefire way to get rid of that 
inferiority complex of yours," he stopped momentarily to tap her 
forehead, "it's to get involved in a team sport.  At least you'll meet 
some interesting people.  So whaddya say?  You wanna help out this old 
guy or what?"

            "Do you mean by trying out for the team, or getting you into 
an establishment for women?"

            "First things first, Berkeley," he smiled.  "We need to cast 
our nets before we can haul in the fish."  She hung her head, 
hesitating, wanting some time to think it over--lots and lots of time, 
and peace, and isolation, so she wouldn't be distracted by...everything.  
But did she really want to think, or just get away from Warren's 
badgering for a few moments, neglect her decision, and feign disinterest 
several days later, just so she could avoid the troubles she would no 
doubt bring upon herself?


            "Oh, I don't know.  I don't know.  I need to think."

            "You can think about it while you're helping me out.  Come 
on, you can take your lunch hour.  I'll buy you something nice--how's 
about that?  Hey, there's a bistro at the Lily Club, right?  So let's go 
there whenever you feel hungry!"  She smiled faintly, gazing up to 
measure his tenacity.  Warren may have been eccentric, but he wasn't a 
bore or a pill, and the man was sharp despite how lazy and unkempt he 
acted.

            "Will you keep asking if I say no?" she whispered.

            "No.  I told you I wasn't gonna force you.  It's just 
convenient to run into a lady I already know, instead of walking around 
campus looking for some other kind soul to help me.  I mean, unless you 
think I could really get in by myself..."

            "Fine, I'll go," she murmured, feeling exasperated but also 
warm inside.  What could she do, helping others was one of her best 
traits.  "But I'm ordering something expensive from the bistro!"  Warren 
laughed out loud as he swaggered back to the copier, which had almost 
completed its program.

            "Atta girl!  You sound just like my wife!  Yeah, order 
anything ya want.  No price is too small to put Evil Lord Gary in his 
place!"

--Elisa Berkeley, 21, English major, no position--

            Girded with an armful of fliers each, Arthur Warren and 
Elisa Berkeley made their way through campus to their first destination, 
Parody Bookstore.  In his hunger, and desire to get all the "difficult" 
locations out of the way first, Warren wanted to visit the Lily Club, 
but Elisa suggested Parody--not because she thought he had a perverted 
intent, but simply because she frequented that place so much, and knew 
the manager and a few employees by name.  Elisa knew for a fact that at 
least one employee was interested in the new team, so why risk going 
somewhere that was not guaranteed to produce results?

            "You do have a point," Warren admitted quietly.  "And 
besides, Parody and Lily are right across from each other.  It's not 
like we'll have to walk all over campus looking for them."

            "Exactly."  He smiled at her; she seemed to be lightening up 
now that she was outdoors in the sun.  Elisa was a very beautiful and 
attractive woman--beautiful because of her superficial traits:  slightly 
curvy chestnut hair, like maple curtains rippling around her clear face 
to rest upon her shoulders, and eyes so profoundly dark, they looked 
like holes one could fall into--and attractive because of more redeeming 
qualities, such as her grace, her charity, her singing and her skills 
with the violin.  She had a polite British accent that was gradually 
fading as she integrated herself more into the American culture, and was 
perceptive, but awkward and shy.

            "So," Warren said, "who's this lady you said would like to 
join the team?"

            "A bit competitive, and very confident, not at all like me.  
She used to be an excellent tennis player, but lately she's been honing 
her skills towards football.  In spite of her ferocity and passion, 
we've grown to become friends.  I believe it's because we can understand 
each other better thanks to our upbringing."

            "Oh?  She a spoiled rich brat like you?"

            "Something like that," she grinned as she followed him 
inside the store.  Elisa waved to the owner, an older brunette about her 
size, and walked up to speak with her, waiting patiently behind another 
customer.  Once he shuffled off, content with his rare manuscript, the 
two women smiled and exchanged a quick hug.

            "Nice to see you, El."

            "And you, Robin.  Sorry to bother you like this."

            "It's never a bother.  I'm here to be bothered, aren't I?  
Anyway, I won't have Steven King's latest anytime soon, just in case you 
were wondering."

            "Not this time," she replied crisply.  "I just came to speak 
with the prima donna.  It's, uh, that time of year."  She showed Robin 
the advertisement, and Granveldt skimmed through it for a moment.

            "Oh yeah, I've been hearing rumors for a long time.  So they 
finally decided to go through with it, did they?  Are you thinking about 
signing up?"

            "I'm sure they won't need me," she chuckled sadly.  "I'll 
only get in the way.  But SHE will definitely like it!"  Elisa gestured 
to the door that led to the basement; Robin knew exactly what her friend 
meant.

            "Yeah, it's right up her alley.  Well, give it some thought.  
May I have a few of these while you're here?"

            "Certainly, that's what we came here for."  Elisa gave Robin 
a portion of her pamphlets, feeling less burdened now that someone she 
trusted was part of the "grapevine".  Robin promised she would talk to 
the "prima donna" later, and waved farewell to Elisa and Warren, who had 
been wandering around aimlessly, feeling out of place while the women 
chatted.  Once they were gone, Robin ambled around her store, taping the 
fliers in key places until she came to the basement door.  Parody had 
three floors, the lowest belonging to the employees, who used its 
spacious rooms to relax, watch TV, play games, study, and (sometimes) 
slack off.  Robin wasn't particularly strict about its use, and 
oftentimes cordoned herself in there whenever she needed a moment.  One 
of her part-timers had burrowed herself into a beanbag chair, and was 
flipping through a fashion magazine as she waited for her shift to 
start.  She looked up, saw her boss, and resumed reading quite 
carelessly.  Robin approached, bearing one of Elisa's ads.

            "Your friend dropped by earlier to give me a present," she 
said.  The younger woman marked her place and glanced up.

            "Which friend?  I have a lot."

            "Elisa, bambina.  Here, take one, and give the poor girl 
some gratitude when you see her."

            "Why should I?" she muttered as she took the paper and read 
it.  "I don't take her services for granted.  I'm not cruel.  I don't 
bully her.  We respect each other.  You make it sound like she's a 
martyr."

            "Just thank her when you see her, okay?  Your shift begins 
in twenty minutes."

            "I'll need to talk to you about a schedule change," she 
called as Robin walked back upstairs.

            "Only if you thank her!  I'll talk to her later to see if 
you did."  The door closed and the prima donna of Parody Bookstore 
rolled her eyes.

            "What's her problem?  I didn't do anything wrong."

A former tennis star, she was forced out of the spotlight by tragedy.

She stands isolated above the rest, determined to prove herself at all 
cost.

Unshakable, focused, and uncompromising, a privileged and powerful 
woman.

Fausta Nazario

            Fifteen minutes after being chewed out by an exasperated 
little bird, Fausta pulled herself out of her chair and climbed the 
stairs, wincing as her arm pushed the door open.  She just spotted her 
manager ducking into the backroom with another woman, most likely her 
lover and best friend, and knowing those two, they would not return for 
some time.  Fausta snorted in disbelief, clocked in, and secluded 
herself in a dark corner, waiting for the two shameless women to 
conclude their "emergency meeting".

            "She owes me for this one," she grumbled.

            Before Gardenia could rush inside Parody, she had to first 
contend with Warren and Elisa.  To Arthur's surprise, men were not 
strictly prohibited from entering the Lily Club; it was just very 
uncommon to see them there.  A sign outside stated that this was "a 
sanctuary for all women", so naturally males presumed they were not 
welcome, and some even threw fits and spread terrible rumors.  Elisa and 
Warren had both heard plenty of these misleading stories, so it was good 
that they were finally clarifying all the myths.  Lily was mostly 
populated by women; today it was solely populated--with, of course, one 
humble exception.  Gardenia had never seen Elisa before, but she knew 
who Mr. Warren was, and offered them a complimentary snack.

            "So what brings such an unlikely pair into my domain?  I 
mean, besides my world-renowned charm and the sinfully delicious 
éclairs?"

            "Oh, you know," Warren grinned, flapping his pamphlets 
proudly.  "We were craving a pastrami on rye, and since we were in the 
neighborhood, we figured we'd stop by.  Say, while we're here, could I 
trouble you to pass these out?  I'm plugging the new soccer team, 
see..."

            "Oh yeah!"  She took half of Arthur's stack and held them 
close like they were treasures.  "I've heard a lot about this from a 
friend whose mother is on the board!  I was hoping they were going to 
pass this!  Now maybe we might have some real action around here!  Who 
needs a music hall, anyway?"

            "Some of us happen to like music," Elisa muttered 
indignantly.  Gardenia grinned bashfully.

            "Oh, uh, sorry, I didn't mean it to sound like that.  No, 
music's cool!  I just think it's great that we finally get a sports team 
here.  I mean, how different is that for a college this size?  Yeah, 
thanks--I'll definitely show this to some of the girls.  Are you going 
to try out?"

            "Heavens, no," Elisa giggled despondently, "I'd only end up 
making a fool out of myself.  I really don't like sports anyway."  
Gardenia shrugged.

            "Suit yourself.  Hey, I'm gonna go spread the word.  I know 
for a fact that there are at least two employees here that would be 
perfect!  Lau," she called, summoning an Asian woman roughly Elisa's 
age, "could you run around the place and put these up?  Make sure you 
put one in all the bathrooms as well.  I'm gonna take a few into the 
kitchen."  Gardenia winked, then scrambled to the bar and pushed through 
the swinging double doors, poking her head in like a spastic cuckoo.  
Her dishwasher was hard at work, tuning out the world around her.  She 
would have to shout in order to draw her attention.

            "Hey, take a look at this!" Gardenia fanned them proudly; 
her employee appeared indifferent.

            "What's that?"

            "The fliers for the soccer team!  I just got them this 
morning!  You said you wanted to play, right?"  The younger woman 
nodded, but returned to her duties listlessly.

            "Just pin it up on the board here, please.  I'll read it 
while I'm working."

            "Tsk, spoil sport.  You could show a little enthusiasm.  
Where's your partner?"  She shrugged.

            "Late, I think.  I'll tell her about it when I see her."

            "Are you sure?  Lately it seems she does all the talking."

            "She'll probably find out about it without my help," she 
mumbled.  Gardenia sighed and drooped a little.  She wanted to be able 
to get along with all her coworkers, but some people are just plain 
antisocial, and there was little she could do about it, except be 
patient and keep trying.  Being friendly was probably the best solution 
for now.

            "Well, make sure to remind her-and don't forget to take a 
break, for god's sake!  You work yourself way too hard.  Lighten up!  
I'm not gonna fire you if you slack off a little.  I'd be a hypocrite if 
I did that!"  She laughed and removed herself from the kitchen, hoping 
her distant employee would at least consider auditioning.  Gardenia 
didn't know her very well-nobody really did-but she knew the younger 
woman had talent, and she didn't want it going to waste.  Once her 
manager was gone, the younger woman did indeed cast her eyes upon 
Kathlyn's advertisement, and dried her hands so she could reach up and 
caress it, pondering her destiny.

            "He'd...probably force me even if I said no."

A rising star, an exemplary athlete, the pure-hearted sportswoman.

Yet this is a heart burdened by demands, expectations set too high.

Wallowing in despair, she trudges onward, eager for independence.

Felicity Velur

            As Felicity was meditating on the flier, the "partner" 
Gardenia mentioned strolled in through the employee entrance, glowing 
with life and playfulness.  She had not known her coworker for long, but 
had already found a way to crawl under her skin and upset the fragile 
balance of her bleak world.

            "Good morning, kitty cats!  How fun are we in today?  I see 
that you are being wet from dishez!  Oooh, new notes on wall!  What iz 
it to say?"  She leaned against Felicity, pressing her hands on the 
brunette's shoulders and craning her head in for a closer look.  
Agitated, Felicity shrugged her coworker away, returning to her duties 
as if nothing else was more important.

            "It's a flier advertising soccer try-outs.  Can you read 
it?"

            "Da, iz natural!  Spent many yearz in Enkland.  I know Roman 
alphabets very well!  Oh, kitty cats, note iz saying we should be going 
to field next to Center for the football on next day.  You will be 
coming with me?"

            "I won't have any other choice," Felicity sighed.  "I am 
damned if I do and damned if I don't."

            "So we will be going together, da?  Ride in same auto!  
Bring lunchboxez!  Have fun date, nyet?"

            "Nyet, no date!" she stated firmly.  "Look, if you want to 
audition, fine.  Just...you know, don't bother me.  It's very 
important."

            "You will not be bothered by me," the other woman assured 
her happily, her Russian accent as heavy as her smile.  "I will go and 
be on best behavior.  I try and call you by real name.  Is Velur okay?"

            "It's better than all your other attempts," Felicity 
muttered.  Her coworker laughed.

            "But iz not cute!  Angry kitty cats lady Feleezity much 
funny truth!  Kawaii!"

            "You're absurd," Felicity groaned.  "Now go outside and do 
your job."

            "Oh, Feleezity iz boss now?  Da!  I make good on the orderz, 
kitty boss!"  She giggled and saluted, wheeling around like a drunkard.

Optimistic and wise, cheerful to her friends, she could be an excellent 
leader.

Pressure forces her to shy away, hide in darkness--her hated refuge.

She seeks light, and love, but must open up to find them first.

Nadia Khovansky

            Nadia was by far the most popular employee at the Lily Club, 
and everyone loved her--everyone except Felicity, who only saw her as an 
annoyance, a hindrance, and a threat to her current lifestyle.

            I couldn't possibly be her friend.  I'd only make things 
worse for myself.  I wouldn't be able to control myself...and then he 
would...

            "Damn it," she whispered as a dish slipped out of her 
fingers and rattled on the counter.  She picked it up and resumed drying 
it, wishing that her mind could just go blank...

And that she could finally stop living this lie.

--Fausta Nazario, 19, Law major, sweeper position--

            Arthur Warren may have been welcomed into the Lily Club, but 
he was not even allowed to get past the front door by the time he and 
Elisa reached Out and About.  A sign reading "You must be this gay to 
enter", hanging above a buzzing neon sign depicting two "female" symbols 
interlocking together was a little discouraging, but when he pressed on 
in heterosexual ignorance, the bouncer promptly asked him to turn around 
and go home.  Not one to be shaken so easily, Warren just smiled and 
handed his remaining papers over to his accomplice.

            "Well, Berkeley, looks like this is the end of the road for 
me!  It's a wise man that knows when to give up while he's still ahead.  
I'm sure you'll be able to wrap things up for me!"

            "Just what are you implying, Mr. Warren?" she demanded 
haughtily.  He guffawed and waved quite rudely as he took the bouncer's 
advice, and headed home.

            "Nothing, nothing at all!  It's just easier for you to get 
in there than me!  So long, Berkeley--I'm heading off!!"

            "But...oh, drat."  Warren had already made it to his car and 
was puttering off, and was soon a lost little dot on the road.  Naolin 
revolved timidly to face the bouncer--a large, heavily tattooed butch 
who gave her a friendly grin--paled, and shakily handed her the papers.  
"If you would be so kind," she quivered, "please give these to the owner 
to pass around.  They're, uh, holding try-outs for the new football 
team."

            "Sounds like fun," she replied, her voice husky.  "Are you 
playing?  You'd look cute in shorts and cleats."

            "N-no, I don't think so," she stammered.  "I'd just look 
silly.  I'm no good at all.  Th-thank you for taking them, though; 
please make sure they're passed around."

            "Sure.  You need a ride anywhere?"  The woman winked, and 
poor Elisa gulped.  She was so far removed from her normal element that 
she felt naked underneath the ogling stare of this titaness.

            "Oh no, no, no thank you--I live fairly close by, and I 
wouldn't want to trouble you!"

            "Wouldn't be no trouble to me," she smiled, now openly 
staring at Elisa.  She backed away as politely as she knew how, bowing 
and scraping like some pathetic marmeluke.

            "No, no, thank you very much--you're very kind, but really, 
it's just a step away."  Elisa turned around and walked as quickly as 
she could, her heart hammering against her ribcage, her breath short and 
impatient.  She didn't know whether it was caused by the terror of being 
the object of such an alien woman's attention...or if it was borne out 
of arousal and excitement, that such a fierce creature should find her 
attractive.

            The morning of Wednesday, August 1st finally came, 
catalyzing the fates of many young men and women.  Kathlyn had told her 
wife they could expect to see more applicants than they anticipated, so 
just imagine how she reacted when only a handful of women showed up, 
most of them inexperienced players just coming here for fun!  Leena was 
crestfallen, but she put them through several tests anyway, and wrote 
their names on her clipboard for future reference.  Out of the small 
number of volunteers, only three showed any promise, while another 
looked flush and out of place.  She didn't know why she was there or 
what she hoped to contribute, but none of the other players discouraged 
her--in fact, they smiled and waved at her, respecting her courage.

            "I know I said I wouldn't," she muttered to Leena once 5:30 
rolled around, "but something inside of me just pushed me in this 
direction.  In all likelihood, I'll end up warming benches and fetching 
water bottles for our more skilled players...I mean, if you even want me 
on the team.  I want you to know, Miss Leena, I'm not really here to win 
any games or prove any points.  I'd just like to put some exercise in my 
life and meet other people.  I need the, uh, interaction.  I wasn't 
completely awful, was I?"

            "No, you did fine," she replied warmly.  Elisa Berkeley 
almost fainted as she saw the coach put a check mark next to her name, 
indicating that, through some bizarre twist of fate or extraterrestrial 
miracle, she had made the team.  The rest of the day was lost in a haze.

Onwards to Part 3


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