"Hey, look at the tits on that bitch!" somebody yelled, and Linda Blame blushed, a quick tremor of fear passing through her.
"Want a ride, honey?" someone else screamed a moment after.
It was night, and Linda was walking to the Eastport bus for the long trip back home. The Bulls had just lost the biggest game of the season by thirty-five points, and the worst thing of all was that they had lost it to a small-town school.
Linda, who was the head of the Eastport cheerleading squad, had never felt worse in her life.
"Hey, isn't that the Eastport bitch?" a girl's voice shouted. "That fucking big-titted cheerleader who flipped me off in the second quarter?"