“Your honor, she’s badgering the witness!” Lyle called out.

“Sustained,” Maya replied. Sherrie glowered. “Fine,” she muttered to herself. Aloud, she said, “Miss Royale, when did you join the cheerleading and dance squad here?”

“Fall of my freshman year,” Tiffani replied.

The drama continues, she thought bitterly. We keep going in circles, talking about the same damn stuff, taking up the maximum amount of time to make minimal progress.

“And, tell me, when you joined the team, were there any rules or restrictions that you were made aware of?” Sherrie continued.

“We were told we couldn’t miss more than three practices each nine weeks, that we had to keep our grades up, and that we couldn’t be more than a certain weight limit,” Tiffani replied.

“And what is this weight limit?”

“I believe we were told 110 pounds.”

“And how much do you weigh?”

Tiffani raised an eyebrow. “Right now?” she asked. “I can’t tell you what I weigh this instant, but I do know that last time I weighed myself, I was 125 pounds.”

Sherrie turned to the jury. “So, you are fifteen pounds over the limit, correct?” she asked, addressing Tiffani without looking at her.

“Yes.”

Sherrie turned to face Tiffani and Maya. “No further questions, your honor.”

Maya nodded, then addressed Lyle. “Do you have any questions for her?”


“As a matter of fact, I do,” Lyle replied. He approached Tiffani. “Miss Royale, what height are you?”

Tiffani thought for a moment. “Five feet, four inches,” she replied.

“And what is your weight again?” Lyle asked.

“One hundred and twenty-five pounds.”

“Relevance to the case?” Sherrie called out.

Lyle held up a paper that he’d been keeping on the table with his case notes. “Your honor, members of the jury, I wish to introduce this piece of evidence: a BMI chart. If you find my client’s height and weight on the chart, you will find that she is a perfectly healthy weight for her height. Asking her to be 110 pounds would make her underweight and unhealthy.” Maya nodded and took the paper. He turned to Tiffani. “What were your height and weight when you joined the team?”

Tiffani thought. “I was about five feet even, and about one hundred pounds. I went through a growth spurt kind of late.”

“And, of course, with increasing height, you gained weight?”

“Yes. I had to eat to keep up my energy.”

Sherrie sighed and closed her eyes. This damn trial is becoming a farce, she thought.


Valo selected a link from the list of bookmarked sites. “Time to check my e-mail,” she said. “Hopefully, there’s no junk today.” Her eyes widened when she noticed that she had received an e-mail. “It’s from Ms. Martha!” she gasped. Her excitement turned to woe quickly, as she read the response:

Jessica,
regarding your concerns,

1. Anyone who is ever harassed should immediately call campus police. This is not your responsibility or mine, but the person to whom the harrassment is directed.

2. The swearing rule does not apply here. The rule regarding no outside music is the rule of concern. Those using their laptops should have the sound off. When there are only 2 or 3 people in the room and all are looking at the same screen with the sound at a reasonable level, I have not enforced the rule. But I can not have 3 or 4 laptops with games, music videos or whatever all with sound competing against each other. Then the no music rule must be enforced.

3. This is a college campus, and as a rule we welcome and encourage discussions on a wide variety of subjects. Yes, some may not be as pleasant as others, but we should feel free to bring up for discussion topics effecting our day to day lives. This is where you must consider the curcustances. How many people are involved in the discussion? One or two of the ten in the room, or all but two. When and how did the discussion come about? Did the subject evolve from another subject or did it ellipsis to incite a reaction from a few in the room? There is no black or white, right or wrong on this issue. It has to be one of common sense and respect for others.

4. I would appreciate talking with you privately about this.

5. I do not wish to have an "FBI most wanted list" posted in the game room. I feel childish behavior should be treated as such. They should be asked to leave the room. I have asked several to leave the room. If they stay out of the room when I am present, but are in the room and act properly when you are there there is no problem. The goal is not to see how many we can ban from the room, but to get all who use the room to do so with repect and consideration of all in the room.

Martha


Valo bowed her head, the rage building. Damn! Damn! she thought. The woman brushes off my concerns like they’re nothing, and she can’t even be bothered to use proper spelling! She sobbed hysterically, out of pure frustration. No one’s taking this seriously! Am I the only person here who sees a problem with the stuff that’s going on? Am I the only goddamn sane person left? Or is it that I’m insane and everyone else is actually sane? I’m basically being told to go with the mass mentality and that I can’t do squat if my friends are being mistreated? That is just plain f**ked up.

She flopped over onto her bed and buried her face in her pillow. Can things get much worse? she thought. I need strength right now. Strength, patience, and a hell of a lot of courage. Things are getting more bleak by the second.

She sighed and rolled over. If I didn’t already have such crappy lungs, I’d give some serious thought to smoking. But smoking would just make my lungs worse, and I don’t feel like worrying about all the risks for drugs. Time to numb the pain the way I always do… it’s time to pig out.