You've Won A Football Star

Maybe This Time

  Surprisingly, the room was full of people. Heather Duke and McNamara sat near the front, Heather Mac trying not to cry. She let out a quiet sob and Duke whirled around. "Shut up, Heather!" She hissed, and we could visibly see the yellow clad girl shrink into her seat. "S-sorry, Heather," she said, accidentally letting a tear roll down her pale face. "My God, Heather," she said, rolling her eyes, "You're such a pillowcase." Veronica, having heard this outburst, glared at the new alpha Heather. She turned to look at Mac and gave her a sad smile as she mouthed, "I'm sorry."
We finally found two empty seats in the front row and sat down.

After the pastor spoke for a few minutes, my father stood up. I started to think that he would give a sweet eulogy, in apology for everything that had happened when I was younger. But no, this was Paul Kelly we're talking about. I don't think the words I'm sorry are even in his vocabulary.

He made his way to the pulpit and cleared his throat. "I don't really know what I'm supposed to say up here. I'm ashamed, certainly. My family has turned our town into a laughing stock. My boy Kurt wasn't who I thought he was. When I think about the sick, disgusting things Kurt and Ram were doing..."
I cringed. I had known that he wouldn't be happy, but this was low, even from him.

"You wait just a minute, Paul!"

We all turned to see a man in a black suit and slicked back brown hair pointing at my father.

I heard Ram say something, but it was only after I took a closer look at the man that I could register what it is that he said.

"Dad?"