While Vice Principal Denton was approaching, Whitney imagined dozens of lies to tell. But when he arrived and Whitney felt the fire in his glare mix with the heat radiating from the blacktop, all of her fun ideas left her. In the moment, the best she could come up with was, “I’m looking for my sister. We were supposed to go in together.” 
    “Does your sister go here?” He asked skeptically. 
    “No. Older sister. Her kid is playing.” 
    “Oh, who is her kid?”
    “My nephew. Is that what you meant?”
    “No, I was asking about his name.” 
    Whitney looked at the field as if it would somehow give her a name. The jerseys, used year after year, had numbers but no last names. And besides, she knew that she was probably going to need a first name. Then genius struck. 
    “We’re here for the other school.”
    “Oh, of course. Where does he go?” 
    Whitney was stunned to find herself outfoxed. She knew that she was smarter than this, but that knowledge did nothing to help her. It had already been a long, difficult day and she knew she wasn’t at the top of her game, but she still had to play. 
    The Vice Principal patiently waited with a big smile on his face. Whitney hated that smile. She hated this whole routine. If he wanted to know what she was doing, why didn’t he ask? If he knew she was lying, why didn’t he say so? Who was charmed by this faux friendliness?
    Whitney spurted out, “Oh, he’s still in high school,” and walked towards the entrance as fast as she could. She was relieved to find he wasn’t following her. He was just standing still, watching to make sure that she got in the game. 


Should Whitney: