Check your shirt---maybe you spilled something on it at lunch

Growing self-conscious at Kate's inexplicable attentiveness, John quickly checked himself over for possible wardrobe malfunctions. Jeans... zipped. Sneakers... tied. T-shirt... err... small yellow mustard stain right under the "Sunshine Underground" banner. How embarrassing. He guessed that explained their repeated glances today. Oh well. He discretely shuffled off to the locker room to fix himself up.

Nearing the locker entrance, he approached the familiar divide that separated the girls' side from the boys'. The boys' side was predictably silent---he was the only guy lame enough to be involved with the women's gymnastics team---but he could hear light chatter and the sound of showers running on the girls' side.