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Lily's piss-poor performance doesn't improve for the rest of practice and she doesn't say another word to you. You don't try to make conversation, either -- you feel pretty bad about fumbling her proposition.
Which is why you're surprised when she holds you back you after practice ends, grabbing you by the upper arm to keep you from walking off, and telling you with an excited whisper, "Guess I gotta be more direct for a dumbass like you. You wanna come fuck me real dirty in one of the stairwells?"
"Sure," you say smoothly. Nailed it.
She tugs as if to pull you out of the room, but you stand your ground. "What the f--" she begins.
"Wait in the hall a sec. I need to talk to Mr. S about something real quick."
"Mr. -- I swear to God," Lily huffs, "if you fuck that creep, you are never getting this tongue again." She forms a V with her fingers, putting it to her lips, and pokes her little pink tongue out between them. It would make you tingle down there, if it wasn't immediately following such a heinous accusation.
You jerk your arm out of her grasp. "Eugh. I have standards."
"Do you? What standards? Pulse, body temp higher than the room?"
"I have standards! Go wait in the fucking hallway a sec. God."
