Connie, clutching her books to her chest, pushed open the door to the choir room. She was late, so naturally everyone looked at her. She shuffled over to the desk of Director, Quinton David, and stood at attention while he poured over a sheet of music.
After what seemed an hour, he looked up, said, "You are late. I expect promptness in this class."
"Yes sir," she said, handing him her transfer papers. He skipped the first two pages, then read the third page. She felt perspiration on the back of her neck; this was the page she had faked. He said, "It says here you are an Alto." Without looking up, he pointed up to the right. "You sit up there."
She climbed the steps, expecting any moment for him to call her back, exposing her as the fake she was. A girl sitting on the aisle move over a seat, and motioned her to sit. She smiled at the girl and took the empty seat, her books in her lap. The girl next to her, whispered, "Put your books under your seat."
Connie stood, in preparation to stow her books, and cast her eyes around the room, She was looking for her ex boy friend Jerry Tomkins. She didn't see him, and couldn't just stand there gawking. She stowed her books and sat down. The class held fifty students.