Senior Year Part I - Cover

Senior Year Part I

Copyright© 2018 by G Younger

Chapter 1: Let’s Get This Party Started

Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 1: Let’s Get This Party Started - David Dawson embarks on his senior year of high school with something new for him - a serious girlfriend. He has lofty goals for this year that include his quest for a third state football championship. He also will venture all over the country on recruiting trips. Join his story where he faces old rivalries and is sexy romantic comedy with just enough sports and adventure mixed in to make it unforgettable. Don't miss this installment of an award-winning series.

Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   mt/Fa   Teenagers   Humor   School   Sports   Slow  

Thursday August 25
I woke before my alarm went off. I heard the rumble of thunder and rolled over to find Duke snuggled up to my back. He would never be a guard dog. He feared both thunderstorms and the vacuum cleaner. Neither one had ever done anything to him, but try explaining that to your dog.

“Hey, Buddy. You okay?” I asked, and he beat his big tail on the bed in response.

I swear, Labs have no feeling in their tails. He’d cleared off a coffee table or knocked over a baby with it a time or two. I reached over his body so I could scratch his chest.

While I loved-up my hound, I thought about what had occurred the last two days after we’d won the baseball tournament. On Monday, my parents and I’d flown out to LA and met with Frank Ingram and his partners, Heidi Dicar and Summer Clarkson. Caryn had joined us, along with Jack Mass.

Jack came because he wanted to buy into my company and we figured if we were partnering with Frank, we had better all be in one room. I was a little surprised when Ms. Dixon, my lawyer, showed up for the meeting with a stunning redhead who looked like she was in her late 20s. She dressed and acted professionally, but everything about her screamed ‘babe.’

“David, I’d like you to meet Shannon Goehl, an associate in our firm who I’m confident will become a partner soon. I brought her along because she specializes in corporate law, not my strong suit. With the increasing complexity of your business interests, I thought it wise to have her expertise available to us today.”

Her hand was warm and soft when I shook it, but her handshake had just the right amount of firmness for the occasion.

“Are you sure your last name is Goehl? I’d have expected a pleasant Irish name, given your first name and the red hair.”

Her eyes twinkled a bit as she responded.

“My maiden name was Reilly if that helps.”

Married? Damn!

Caryn and my dad worked out the details with the help of Frank and Jack. Ms. Dixon and Shannon Goehl reviewed everything and put it on paper. The result was to form a holding company that would be a corporation with stock. I now owned David A. Dawson, Inc., which owned Dawson Management.

We did the buy-in with stock. I owned 15% of IDC – Public Relations and Dad would sit on their board as a director. They received 20% of my company, and Frank Ingram would be the president of Dawson Management and sit on my board of directors.

Mass Investment we did differently because they carried so much debt. Jack had bought his father out, and his dad personally financed the deal. Combined with the construction loans they had outstanding, they weren’t on equal footing with us. I was flush with cash from my trip to Japan. Shannon and Jack quickly showed me I should keep the LLC and run my income from my voice-over, acting, and modeling jobs through that. It separated that work from my other business interests. Frank and his partners also agreed.

I would get 35% of Mass Investments for a 20% interest in my company. Jack would be our CFO and Bev would sit on my board of directors, while Caryn would be on theirs.

We agreed that my mom and Uncle John would be directors of my company. I was named the chairman and given six votes since I held 60% of the stock. The bylaws were written so I’d always have one more vote than the number of directors. That way I would never lose control of my company. It was planned that I wouldn’t attend a meeting unless something big was going on.

Dad asked Ms. Dixon to join my board as a director to act as a tiebreaker. She said she could do that, but she wouldn’t be able to vote on any issues involving selection or compensation of counsel. Ms. Dixon would only advise us on litigation matters, again without the ability to vote. She recommended that Shannon Goehl act as corporate counsel.

I thought about Circles of Trust for a minute and turned to Shannon. She was obviously a rising star with a good firm, and I know Ms. Dixon wouldn’t have recommended this if she didn’t think Shannon was good at her job, but I didn’t know her. On the other hand, I did trust Ms. Dixon and got the sense that she’d be keeping a close eye on our new corporate counsel. This just wasn’t the time to confirm that verbally, even though it needed to be done.

I’d talked a long time with my dad and Caryn about my wishes, and those wishes didn’t include running a company right now. I had more important things like homework, football and a new girlfriend to worry about. I also had to decide where I planned to go to college. To me, the structure looked fine, and I knew Dad, Mom and Caryn collectively could ride herd on this and help with any ‘trust but verify’ issues.

I smiled and nodded my head.

“Let’s do this!”

After we wrapped everything up on Wednesday, Mom had taken Dad and me to see my new house. It was in Serra Retreat, a gated community that catered to the elite Hollywood crowd. The house was in an excellent location. It was on a hill high enough that you could see the ocean from the second story.

The house itself ... let’s just say that realtors have a knack for only showing you the positives when it came to pictures. The house was built in 1960, and the flooring and interior paint looked original. The only thing that looked updated were the appliances.

Mom took me to the second story, pushed me out onto the deck and made me look at the ocean. That was what I’d paid for. She assured me that they could fix the house. If I hadn’t seen the drawings of the proposed renovations, I might not have believed her. I was afraid I might have to go into movies full-time to afford what all was needed to bring the home up to date.

Once we’d finished, we’d caught a flight to Chicago and gotten home late. Mom had made me leave my bags in the laundry room. I’d looked in on the boys, and Duke had followed me to the apartment where I’d instantly crashed. Living in a hotel is fine, but there’s nothing better than sleeping in your own bed.

The thunder seemed to have subsided.

“Come on, Duke. Let’s go run.”

I heard it start to rain.

“Maybe not,” I said as I got out of bed to start my day.


While I fed the boys, I received a text from my new girlfriend. She told me to pick her up and then get Tracy and Pam. Cassidy, who was my security today, was waiting for me by the car. She wanted to drive but I’d decided the Demon could handle a little rain and I was going to drive today. I found myself pulling into Brook Davis’s drive. I honked the horn, looked over at Cassidy and smiled. Normally I wouldn’t pull such a douchebag move, but I didn’t feel like getting wet. Brook darted out, trying to dodge the raindrops, and then gave me a dirty look when she found the door locked. Oops. Cassidy climbed over the seat so my girlfriend could join me in the front seat.

“Jerk,” was my morning welcome.

I decided to ignore the comment and act like nothing happened. I hadn’t done it on purpose, really! As punishment, I had to drop all the girls off at the front door before parking. I had visions of this being my life in a few years when Coby and Little David were off to school.

This getting rained on while Brook remained dry wasn’t exactly how I’d envisioned the new-girlfriend thing working when I decided that Brook was the one. Then I watched her walk into school in those silk sweatpants that barely hung on her hips. Yeah. I made the right choice.


I had been very specific about which classes I was taking this year. I made sure there were no AP classes or anything too taxing. I’d even signed up for a shop class with the idea of an easy ‘A’. I got in line to grab my schedule and chatted with people I hadn’t seen all summer. Today was supposed to be a half day where you got your books and syllabus for each class.

I finally made it to the front and opened my packet. I found a student handbook with a map of the campus along with my course schedule.

PE – Strength and Conditioning – Coach Rector
Precalculus – Ms. Lowden
AP Chemistry – Mr. Dutton
Lunch
AP English Literature – Mrs. Hedge
Spanish 1 – Ms. Cruz
AP Economics – Mr. Quiroz
Photography – Ms. Saunders

I checked to make sure this really was my schedule. Where were Rocks for Jocks, Computers for Dummies, Rock Music Appreciation and the other classes I signed up for? I spotted Ms. Jaroslav, our guidance counselor.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“My class list ... I, uh ... didn’t sign up for any of these,” I said.

She gave me a weak smile.

“You didn’t think your parents would allow you to slack off, did you?” she asked.

“How does my mom know what classes I sign up for?”

“She calls in and asks. She and I talked and we thought these would be better for getting you ready for college. If you want, you can come in and we can discuss it,” she offered.

This day was going downhill in a hurry.

“What about this last one? Photography?” I asked as I pointed to my list.

“Your mom said you have a camera and planned to take pictures during the summer. We thought that it would appeal to your artistic side. We’ve both seen your drawings and thought you might want to try something else.”

If I didn’t think the woman had my best interests in mind, that comment might have stung. While I wasn’t at Halle’s level, I did okay drawing. I thought I was getting better.

“I take it there’s no changing this,” I tried one last time.

“We would need to see if there were any openings, but I think all the classes you originally signed up for are full.”


Each class today would only last fifteen minutes, so when the bell rang I went to PE. Coach Rector met us all in the locker room.

“We need to assign lockers. When you hear your name called, come up front, get your lock and locker number.”

My name was called and I got my lock and went hunting for my locker because I didn’t recognize the number. Normally I had my locker in the center aisle. I finally found it in the back row and it was a small one that non-athletes used. There was no way I would be able to get my football gear in that locker.

“Hey, Coach, there must be a mistake. I can’t even get my helmet in that thing,” I said.

“All the bigger lockers are assigned. That’s all we have right now. If someone quits football, golf, swimming or cross-country, we can get you a bigger locker.”

I knew that was bullshit because they’d built the Field House specifically for athletics and there were plenty of large lockers.

“So, what am I supposed to do with my equipment?” I asked.

“I don’t know. Talk to one of the team managers when you come to practice tonight,” he suggested.

Coach Rector had little patience for stuff like this, so I would have to wait. I saw Alan’s hand in all this. I decided not to get mad about it. If I had to, I would just take my stuff home and store it in my car during the day. I was sure the fun and games weren’t over, so between classes I made a phone call.


After I’d collected all my books and the information I would need for each class, I walked to the locker room. I smiled when I saw Jeff Delahey and his camera crew. He’d arranged to get full access this fall to do a documentary on the Lincoln High football program. The real reason was they wanted to follow around the number one football recruit and they knew I wouldn’t agree to do it otherwise.

“You ready for some drama?” I asked.

“Sure, what’s going on?”

“Someone’s upset I wasn’t at two-a-days. They assigned me one of those small square lockers this morning. I’m sure that there’ll be more antics today, so I thought you might want to document it for your show.”

“That sounds awfully childish, especially when you’re their starting quarterback and leader of the team. Why would they want to upset you over something like that?” Jeff asked.

“That’s a very good question. I wish I’d thought of that,” I said with a smile.

“I take it your plan is to play nice and let me film them.”

I just nodded. Alan’s bullying tactics would only work if I pushed back in a public way. Coach Hope would eventually get it fixed, but I would look like a jerk for calling Alan out.

I did a quick interview outside the locker room about how excited I was to be back and ready to put my full effort into helping my team win state this year. I spent a minute talking about what a privilege it had been to represent the USA in the baseball tournament. We then walked into the locker room. I went to the equipment room to pick up my duffle bag with all my gear in it.

Jeff had pulled back to allow me to talk to the equipment manager. But instead, I found Alan waiting for me. I gave Jeff a hand sign to let him know that the fun was about to begin. We’d agreed that he could film it across the room as they’d wired me up for sound.

“I’m here to pick up my equipment,” I said.

“Just a minute. Let me get it for you,” Alan said as he went back and started pulling out things.

“I have a duffle in the back with my name on it,” I said.

Alan found it and it was empty. It had held all my Range Sports gear and the things that Bo Harrington had gotten me. It also had shoes and other personal items I used.

“Where is all my stuff?” I asked.

“It’s not yours, it’s Lincoln High’s. I gave it out to those who needed it,” Alan said.

“Well, you better get it all back. I paid for most of that gear.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. We just have what’s left. I guess you should have been here at the start of two-a-days.”

“Okay, I see how it’s going to be,” I said, and turned to walk away.

I glanced back and saw his evil smile. His eyes got big when Jeff and the camera crew walked up. Alan slammed the equipment room door so he wouldn’t have to say anything to them.

“This is fun,” Jeff said.

“Let’s go to practice. I’m sure I’ll get yelled at for not being dressed,” I predicted.

Coach Hope stood on the sidelines talking to Coach Rector and Coach Mason. I walked up with Jeff and his cameraman in tow. Coach Hope gave me a curious look.

“Why aren’t you ready for practice? I thought you knew we were in full gear today,” Coach Hope said.

“I would be, but Alan gave my equipment away and Coach Rector gave me a tiny locker so I wouldn’t have any place to store it if I did get it,” I said.

“Hang on. Alan told me we were out of big lockers,” Coach Rector said in his defense.

Coach Hope gave him a withering look.

“Now that I think about it, that’s stupid. I’ll make sure you get a football locker,” Coach Rector said.

“Go get Alan. We don’t have time for games and I don’t want David to miss more practice than he has to.”

“Should I start getting them warmed up?” I asked.

“Yeah. Lead them in warm-ups,” Coach Hope said.

Everyone gave me a funny look. They were all in football gear and I strolled out in shorts and a T-shirt.

“Line up! Let’s get this party started,” I called out. “Foresee, Tams, Antakov, Hofmann—up front with me.”

I know it wasn’t supposed to happen this way, but I’d just named the team captains. Tim would represent the defense, and as the middle linebacker, he called the plays, with Yuri as his understudy. Yuri’d done a great job being defensive captain last year when Tim was hurt, and I didn’t want him to feel like he was being shoved aside or demoted.

Wolf was my pick for the offense because he was my best friend and was one of the very few four-year varsity players. Derek was our punter and placekicker. I thought he was the best pick for special teams since he would be on the field for every one of their plays.

I saw Coach Hope had figured out what I’d done. He didn’t stop me, so I just went with it.

Miraculously, Alan showed up with my duffle bag, which was full this time. Coach Rector took me to the locker room and assigned me my normal locker. I quickly got dressed and joined the practice.

I was happy to see Coach Mason was in rare form. It took him about two minutes before he tore into me.

“Get your hands up and back! You know where they’re supposed to be!” he barked. “You know what, I don’t have time for this. Give me five laps around the field, and when you get back you better have your head out of your ass!”

I gave him a big grin, which caused him to throw his clipboard at me. This was going to be fun.

Towards the end of practice, I got to play defense but found out that I would have to ‘earn’ my place on the defensive team. Coach Hope had the number one offense going against the number two defense. To my surprise, Yuri and Tim were also on the number two defense.

“I take it we’re all in the doghouse,” I said when Tim huddled us up.

“Yeah. I’ll talk to you after practice. Right now, I want to kick some butt,” Tim said.

We were running a three-four defense this year (three down linemen and four linebackers). Coach Rector stepped into our huddle.

“I want you to run the base defense, nothing fancy. Just give them an honest effort and don’t make it easy on them. Remember, these are your teammates. No unnecessary roughness.”

“This is a live drill?” I asked.

“You just can’t tackle the quarterback. If you touch him, he’s down,” Coach Rector confirmed.

With Tim, Yuri and me flying around making plays, the first team offense struggled to make any running yardage. I saw Coach Mason working with them to try to get things moving. I knew he wouldn’t run the ball all day. Tim had been watching our starting quarterback, Trent Buchannan, in practice all week.

“Watch his right foot when he gets under center. If it’s back, he’s going to pass. He’ll also look at his primary receiver as he lines up. I’ll hold my fist up if it’s a pass. David, you cover the middle and I’ll blitz when that happens,” Tim said.

Trent broke the huddle and looked at Ed. He then got under center, and his right foot was back. Tim held up his hand.

“Blue. Set. Hut, HUT!” Trent called out.

Tim timed the snap count and Brock had to break off his double team of the nose tackle to try to stop Tim. He was only partially successful as Tim bore down on Trent. Trent chucked the ball in the general direction of Ed. I smiled, because Yuri had dropped into the flat to help with Ed, and it looked like Trent had thrown the ball to Yuri on purpose.

On the next play, the blockers picked Tim up, giving Trent time to throw. What Trent hadn’t done was check where the safety was. If the safety lined up outside the hash marks, Trent was supposed to do his checkdown and throw to a receiver either in the flat or over the middle. Instead, he threw to Ed, who was running the fade. If it had been one-on-one, Ed would have caught the ball. Instead, the safety stepped in front and had an easy interception.

We huddled up while Coach Mason pulled Trent aside, obviously trying to explain to Trent how he’d misread the play. Coach Rector got into the defensive huddle.

“If they’re going to pass, let’s amp up the pressure. We’re switching to four down linemen. David, you step in at right defensive end. Tim, I want you to spy on the quarterback, and if David flushes him, I want you to clean it up,” Coach Rector said.

I lined up across our best tackle, Milo Bauer.

“Hey, David. Go easy on me. I don’t want to lose my starting job because of you,” he said with a big smile.

“You could just block me,” I suggested.

On the snap, I blew by Milo. It’s funny when you hear a Mennonite cuss.

“Red!” Milo called out, to warn Trent.

Trent looked back and decided to run the ball. Silly boy. He suddenly had Tim in his face, and he jumped back so Tim couldn’t tag him. Right in my path. Oops.

“What did I say about hitting the quarterback?” Coach Hope bellowed.

“It was my fault,” Trent said to defend me.

“I don’t care whose fault it is!”

We had to run to the goal line and back.

“Next time we figure out how I can accidentally hit him,” Tim said, which made us all laugh.


We soon switched to number two offense against our number one defense. Coach Mason was all smiles when I joined the huddle.

“Glad to have you back. What do you think we should start off with?” he asked.

“Let’s pound them up the middle,” I said.

“Okay, power I dive right on the first sound,” Coach Mason called.

Wolf moved from his tight end position to act as another fullback with Bert. Kelly was our tailback.

“Blue!” I called.

The play was designed to go between the center and right guard. Wolf was to lead Bert and Kelly through the hole. If the center needed help with the nose tackle, Wolf would double-team him. If not, he was to take the linebacker on. Bert was supposed to either help with the nose tackle or the linebacker. If they were both blocked, he would pick up either the backside linebacker or the safety.

The nose tackle had slanted away from the play, so Wolf zeroed in on the linebacker. I heard a crack of pads as I handed the ball to Kelly. Wolf had pancaked the linebacker and Bert actually stepped in front of the other middle linebacker. Kelly was in the secondary before he was brought down after a ten yard gain.

Coach Rector lost his shit. Coach Hope was right there with him.

“I think we need to do that again,” I said.

“R. S. P., Baby! Repeat Successful Plays!” Coach Mason called out.

“Blue!”

This time the nose tackle slanted to the right side, so Wolf had to help block him. I was shocked when Bert met the linebacker head on and knocked him down. What had gotten into him? Was he going to block this year?

Kelly did his thing and picked up twelve yards.

“Antakov, Foresee ... get in there,” Coach Rector ordered.

“That’s not good,” I told Coach Mason.

“Run the counter,” he said under his breath. “R. S. P.!”

I called the play on one.

“Blue!” ... was all I got out before the whole defensive line jumped offsides.

“What do you go on? Tell me! What do you go on?” Coach Rector ranted. “The ball! You don’t let the quarterback get free plays!”

We went right back to the line.

“Line up! Line up!” screamed Coach Hope.

The defense was used to huddling up. They sprinted to the line and I waited until they were in position. If it had been a game, I would have taken advantage of the chaos.

“Blue! Set. Hut.”

They put Yuri and Tim in at the two middle-linebacker slots. Tim read the lead block by Wolf and stepped into the hole. Yuri sprinted over to help clean up in case Kelly slipped through.

Kelly made a jab-step to the hole and then exploded between the guard and tackle on the other side of the center. The safety dove at his legs and Kelly gave him a little juke and was gone.

“Let’s run the power I counter quarterback run/pass play,” Coach Mason called. “R. S. P., Men!”

“Blue. Set. Hut, HUT!”

This time Yuri stayed home and met Kelly in the hole.

“Sheeeit!” Bryan Callahan yelled, to get everyone’s attention that I had the ball.

On every play, the quarterback runs a fake to possibly confuse the defense. Most times the defense just ignores it because the quarterback never has the ball. With my size, I could almost hide the ball on my hip. I tucked it like I planned to run. That pulled the outside linebacker, corner and safety to me. It was an easy pitch-and-catch to Roc who jogged into the end zone.

“Power I play-action tight end fly,” Coach Mason called.

I came up under center and let my right foot sit back, then looked over at Roc and nodded to him. Tim couldn’t help himself as he held up his fist. Yuri hustled up to the line on the left-hand side of me.

“Blue. Set. Hut, HUT!”

I faked to Kelly and he swerved off to help block Yuri. Wolf slipped through the line and popped Tim like he planned to block him. The safety had cheated out to Roc’s side, so when Wolf stepped past Tim and began to run full-out, the middle of the field was open. I took a little off it to make sure it was a catchable ball. The safety sprinted back, but Wolf gave him a straight-arm to fend him off for the score.

“JV offense! Dawson, you remain at quarterback,” Coach Hope ordered.

I smiled when I saw my half brother come onto the field. He was playing a wideout.

“I think they want to get some success under their belts,” Coach Mason observed.

“Coach, this is my brother Phil. He and I have practiced daily together against players better than we have at corner. Let me help him make varsity,” I suggested.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yeah. Phil can play with them. Let’s run the fade until they can stop it,” I suggested.

Phil lined up across from Nick Rake, our junior cornerback. I could tell they were in man-press by how he lined up and how the safety was inside the hash marks. On the snap, I knew my protection wasn’t going to be there, but the fade was a timing route and I was able to pass the ball before they could get to me. Phil caught it for a fifteen yard gain.

Coach Mason moved me into the shotgun so I had more time, and Phil and I hooked up for three straight completions. On the next play, I saw the safety had moved outside the hash marks. I gave Phil a hand signal. He ran the same route, and I pump-faked the pass, causing the safety to break on the ball. Phil dug in and sprinted straight up the field. I hit him with a pretty pass for the score.

Coach Rector flipped me off, to Coach Mason’s amusement.

I was glad when Coach Hope called it. The JV team was talking an awful lot of smack. It wouldn’t be long until Tim or Yuri took someone’s head off. I was afraid it might be mine.


When we were done, Cassidy came sauntering out onto the field. You could hear the collective groan.

“Miss me?” she asked with a big smile.

“No,” was their one-word answer.

She gave them an evil look.

“What did David say earlier? Let’s get this party started!” Cassidy said, and then proceeded to show us we weren’t in as good shape as we thought we were.

Cassidy had learned how the Marine Corps turned young boys into men. She created what she called sixty minutes of hell as an exercise routine to get athletes at Lincoln High in shape. There were a couple of levels to her program. We were getting to the top level because even I was sucking air. I’d pushed myself all summer to be in shape for baseball and now football. Wearing pads and doing this routine was nuts.

“Cassidy!” her dad barked when he saw players dry heaving on the sideline.

“Daddy, David hasn’t thrown up yet,” Cassidy complained.

“Well, shit,” I said, and I poked my finger down my throat.

It didn’t take much to get me started. That seemed to satisfy Cassidy. I found Tim and Wolf standing on each side of me.

“Thanks, man, I thought she was going to kill us,” Wolf said.


I was wiped out when I got home. All I wanted to do was play with my boys and then get to bed early. As I walked in the back door, Duke greeted me, and I heard crying babies in the kitchen.

“Thank God!” Peggy said when she saw me. “Take yours and get him to settle down. He set Little David off.”

“Hey,” I said in the deepest voice I could.

For some reason that seemed to almost always get his attention. He looked up at me with those big blue eyes and thought about crying again, so I pulled him to my chest and rocked him. Little David was still howling.

“Want to trade?” I asked.

“Please,” Peggy almost begged.

We did the awkward baby exchange and I lifted Little David’s shirt and blew a raspberry on his tummy. His eyes blinked in shock.

“Who’s my good boy? You are.”

I gave him a little bounce and he settled down into my chest. I think he was asleep in an instant. I saw Coby was snoozing too.

“They missed their naps,” she said, giving me a weary look.

“I think someone else missed their nap,” I said. “I’ll put them into their playpen and cook dinner.”

She gave me a kiss and then helped me get them sorted out. I think if Duke could have gotten in with them, he would have. He got as close as he could and lay down.

I went to the refrigerator and found that there was goat marinating in an olive oil, garlic and herb mixture. I fired up the grill so it would be hot when Dad got home. He could grill the goat better than I could. I decided I wanted potatoes au gratin. I also saw lettuce from the farm. I could make wilted lettuce to go with it.

Mom came in as I was putting the potatoes in the oven.

“The boys are asleep in the living room. They didn’t get their naps today.”

“Where’s Peggy?”

“Upstairs sleeping. She looked worn out.”

“I’m sure she is. She had to handle them on her own for the past few weeks,” Mom explained.

“She could have gotten help. I can think of about five people who would love to babysit. I know Mrs. A is always complaining she doesn’t see them enough,” I said.

“I’ll talk to Peggy. She just thinks that she should do it all herself. She looks at it as her job.”

“I guess,” I said, and then changed the topic. “What’s the deal with you changing all my classes?”

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