She's got more questions.

You look at her, keeping your face steady and stoic.

"Why do you ask Miss Miller?"

"Because I wanted to see your face when I did. And you have nailed some of them, haven't you? Millie showed up late and walking bowlegged, and could barely take her eyes off you. Or Tony Carrollton for that matter. Did the two of you gang up on her? You did, didn't you! I knew it!"

"I didn't say a word."

"You didn't have to! Your face gives you away, once you know what to look for," she grins, then turns serious again. "So if you teamed up with Tony to fuck his daughter's best friend, why should I trust you?"

"The two things aren't necessarily connected," you answer. "I could have shared Millie with him and still not trust him."

"I suppose," she says thoughtfully. "Did you fuck Julia? She was kind of hinting that you and Mr. Carter partied with all the car wash sluts."

"What's it to you who fucks who Miss Miller? Perhaps you should keep your concern to who fucks you or who you fuck."

"So you did! You and Mr. Carter banged Julia and Millie and all those others! Does Julia's dad know?"

"You're just being obnoxious Miss Miller. It's not an endearing character trait. Especially coming from someone who admits she whored herself as a favor to a friend." You make air quotes around the last part of your statement, and see Janet start to fume, then take a deep breath and calm herself.

"Ok, I deserved that. I'm sorry coach, it isn't any of my business. I'm just being a brat." You look at her without speaking, holding her gaze until she drops her eyes, looking at the floor as she rubs the toe of her shoe into the carpet.

"Honestly coach, all the girls in school can talk about is you and the other men. How hot you are and how easy they think it will be to wrap you around their finger, stuff like that. Some are talking about how long it will take them to bang all four of you, stuff like that. I guess I just...just got carried away. I'm sorry."

"Ok. Apology accepted. Will there be anything else Miss Miller?"

"You're mad at me," she says with a cute little frown. "I was rude and you're mad at me. I speak before I think sometimes. I always have. I'm really sorry Coach."

"I'm not mad at you Miss Miller. But this conversation is going nowhere and I have things to do. So if there's nothing else...."

She looks at you, pressing her lips together, her eyes suddenly wounded and filling with moisture. She opens her mouth as if to say something, then closes it, then opens it again before finally forcing out some words.

"I'm such a lousy flirt," she blurts out, with a gasp that's close to a sob. "I always mess it up. I'm so sorry."

"That was flirting?" you ask with sardonic grin.

"See, that's what I mean! I'm just lousy at it," she replies with a choked laugh. "I just make a fool of myself."

"Except when you're doing a favor for a friend," you smile, then frown as you see her face dissolve into tears as she starts to cry, turning to run out of the office.