‘Ugh! Gym sucks!’ Nicole Qualley thought as she put what she could in her locker and escaped the confining walls of her school—Sommerville House, an all-girls private college in Brisbane’s South Brisbane district.

Attending an all-girls school was bad enough, but having to walk past a Catholic all-boys school to catch her train home? The pits! The relentless teasing and innuendo she and the others who also caught a train had to endure daily as they walked past St Laurence’s College was beyond the pale.

One day, one of the morons that school called ‘young gentleman’ tried to accost her. Well, Nicole was having none of that!

“Out of the way, limp dick,” she snarled as he placed himself in front of her.

Surprised by Nicole’s vehemence, the boy backed up two paces before the heckling from his ‘roomies’ caused him to react angrily.

“Who are you to talk to me like that, you fuck ugly dyke?” The boy snapped.

“Perfect, limp dick,” Nicole responded. “Challenge your masculinity, and you immediately resort to playing the lesbian card. Listen, dickhead, just because I have no interest in your tiny wiener doesn’t mean I’m a lesbian. It’s just that I prefer dicks that are attached to real men, not some egotistical jock itch with no brain. Now, out of the way, I have a train to catch.”

“You look like that actress Margaret Qualley,” ‘limp dick’ stated. “Everyone knows that she’s a dyke.”

Surprisingly, Nicole shares Margaret’s surname, although ‘limp dick’ couldn’t have known that. A Google search failed to find any known family relation to the American actress or her more famous mother, Andie MacDowell.

“Yeah,” Nicole said sarcastically. “That’s why she’s married to a bloke.”

“Are you boys hassling this young lady?” A deep male voice asked, breaking into the confrontation. Nicole turned to see her gym teacher, Mister Cummins.

“No, Sir,” ‘limp dick’ and the others quickly denied.

“Then why are you standing in front of the woman blocking her path?” Mister Cummins asked.

“We were just talking to her, Sir,” ‘limp dick’ protested.

“Have you any idea how long I’ve been watching?” Mister Cummins enquired.

“No, sir,” ‘limp dick’ replied.

“I thought not,” Mister Cummins disgustedly added. “I’ll have your names, and believe me when I say I’ll be talking to my counterpart at this school. Now, hand your school IDs over.” Mr Cummins stood with his hand out, waiting for the boys to hand them over.

The four young men reluctantly handed their cards to the teacher, who put them on the low wall around the school, took his phone out and photographed them. “Now, walk away,” Mr Cummins commanded. “I do not care in which direction you walk away as long as it is not in the same direction as the young lady.”

Muttering, the four boys wandered off, glaring back at Nicole. Nicole hefted her school bag and made to walk off.

“Excuse me, Miss Qualley?” the young teacher called Mister Cummins said. Nicole turned to face him. “You’re catching the train?” He asked.

Nicole nodded, but when he raised an eyebrow, she explained. “I don’t like travelling home in a sweaty sports uniform, so I showered and changed before walking to catch my train.”

“If you’re doing that, aren’t you supposed to change into your regular uniform for the trip home?” Mister Cummins asked.

Technically, the teacher was correct. School policy dictated that she was supposed to remain in uniform from the moment she exited her front door until she returned. However, Nicole had exactly one uniform to go with her sports one. Wearing it to class, if she had gym that day, was permissible, as was wearing it home. But if she wanted to shower and change after her class, she was supposed to put on her regular uniform.

Nicole’s parents struggled to make ends meet. They’d sacrificed almost everything they had to send their vivacious, intimidatingly intelligent only child to a private school, hoping to give her the best chance to succeed in her goal of becoming a Supreme Court Judge. Nicole had one uniform because that was all her parents could afford. She wore it Monday and Tuesday, put it in the wash Tuesday night, wore her sports uniform to school on Wednesday, and then wore her only uniform for the last two school days.

Nicole wondered how much trouble she was in before the teacher kindly smiled and said, “I don’t think those boys will circle around and cause you any more trouble, but if you prefer to be safe, wait with me in the staffroom, and I’ll pick up what I need to take home and escort you to the station.

Nicole examined her rescuer —Middish height, around 178 cm (5ft. 10), she guessed. Slender with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. Nicole estimated the teacher would weigh around 70 Kg (154 lbs). Piercing, bright blue eyes under a pronounced brow and heavy jet-black hair spikily cut and left tousled. Full lips over an already dark ‘five o’clock shadow, even though it was only a little after three p.m. He wore the expected sweatpants and a clinging black T-shirt with The Sommerville House’s logo emblazoned over his heart. Mister Cummins was a favourite amongst the more forward of the girls.

Nicole thought through what she knew of the gym teacher. Head of department, she suddenly remembered. Known to be witty and charming, a stern disciplinarian, but also known to laugh and joke with his students. Looking up, Nicole met the teacher’s eyes and jumped when she realised he was grinning laconically at her inspection.

“Would you prefer to wait with me, Miss?” Mister Cummins asked.

“My name is Nicole Qualley,” Nicole answered. “I do not like to be called anything other than Nicole, and yes, I prefer to wait.”

The teacher smiled, and with his eyes sparkling with laughter, he held out his right hand, “Nick Cummins, Miss Nicole,” he said. “Pleased to make your acquaintance. My name is Nicholas, but I prefer Nick. This way, if you will?”

Nicole, surprised by her sudden acceptance of an escort, meekly followed the teacher back to Sommerville House. Realising the young woman was shy and uncertain, Nick made small talk, hoping to reassure his new acquaintance that everything was okay. He explained that he’d jumped a year during state school, had sat for his Uni entrance exams a year early, and compressed his double degree, BSc. Math and a B.Ed. Secondary from four years to three.

“How old are you?” Nicole bluntly asked, thinking he was still way too young to be a head sports coach.

Nick grinned and said, “You first, Miss Nicole.”

“I turned eighteen last week,” Nicole admitted. “I’m a high school senior, as you know, and regardless of the end-of-year exams, as long as I pass, I’ll finish high school with straight As.”

“Your parents wouldn’t allow you to jump a grade?” Nick asked.

“They thought it would be detrimental to my socialisation skills,” Nicole explained. “So instead, I sat bored through the last five school years.”

“Almost done now, though,” Nick sympathetically said as he opened the staffroom door and allowed Nicole to enter first. He swiftly gathered the papers he needed to mark and review into his satchel and swung it over his shoulder. “Let’s get out of here,” he suggested. “Before another set of ill-mannered louts cause me to use my authority to chastise them.”

“You didn’t tell me how old you are,” Nicole protested as she walked through the held open door.

“No, I didn’t,” Nick chuckled as he surreptitiously admired the tight, round bottom passing through his door.

“So, Mister Cummins,” Nicole pretended to say exasperatedly, “How old are you?” As she asked, Nicole wondered why it mattered. On her list of what she desired in a man, Nick was 1) Older than her, 2) Worldly, 3) As intelligent, if not more intelligent than her, and 4) Handsome.

There was another closely guarded requirement —5) Experienced. Nicole was a virgin and sure did not want to experience what some of her friends had — a clumsy, awkward, painful first experience. Instead, she wanted her first to be an experienced, older lover who would take her journeying on a sexual adventure.

Nicole held a deeper need, one she only admitted to herself when she gave herself personal, intimate attention —she wanted her man to be dominant. He should be confident enough to demand what he wanted from his lover and then show her how to do it. Nicole thought that Nick just might be that guy.

As the couple walked towards the nearby Southbank station, Nick refused to answer. Instead, he asked intelligent, insightful questions about Nicole’s schooling, her experiences at school, how she managed such good grades (four+ hours per night of study), and what she hoped to achieve in her life.

In turn, Nicole asked why, given Nick was so intelligent, he had ‘settled’ on being a teacher. Surely, with that much intelligence, he could have been a doctor, lawyer, or anything. Nick laughed and pointed out that, as Nicole does, he despaired at how little he was taught and the sparsity of knowledge he gained. That was when he decided the only way to change the system was from the inside.

“We’re not challenging today’s students, Nicole,” he explained. “We’re allowing mediocrity to rule. We’re so tied up on ensuring equality for everyone that we’re punishing anyone ahead of the curve. We don’t laud intelligence any more. Instead, we insult and belittle it and try to drag it down to the mean. That’s wrong! Where will the next Steve Jobs come from? What educational institution will nurture the next Spielberg? It needs to change. Mahatma Gandhi said, ‘Be the change you wish to see in the world’. Well, I’m trying to be that change.”

“Don Quixote comes to mind,” Nicole riposted.

Surprised, Nick asked, “You’ve read the book?”

Nicole nodded, “That one, plus Stranger in a Strange Land, 1984, Animal Farm, Brave New World, The Odyssey, and To Kill a Mocking Bird.”

“All required reading for your English classes?” Nick queried, knowing they weren’t but amazed that a modern student had read so extensively of the classics.

“Only To Kill a Mocking Bird,” Nicole clarified. “The rest I read because I wanted to.”

“Why did you want to?” Nick asked as he and Nicole walked to where the Cleveland train would pull up.

“If I’m going to be a Supreme Court judge, I need the education and ability to put together a lot of brilliant briefs that become law. To write those, I’ve studied the classics so my prose will read and sound meaningful.”

Awed, Nick responded, “Good thinking and planning, Nicole.” Then he looked about. “What train are you catching?”

“The Cleveland line as far as Lindum. My pushbike is chained there, and I’ll ride that to Tingalpa, where I live.”

“Do you mind if I ride with you?” Nick asked. “I’m going to Ormiston.”

“It’s a free country,” Nicole teased as she placed her ‘Gocard’ against the automatic scanner, glad their conversation could continue.

With the delay, Nicole had missed her usual train and would be home at least thirty minutes late. Not that it mattered. Her parents had jobs, and she was an only child. Her parents wouldn’t make it home until close to six. She’d have dinner ready for everyone by then. The train Nick typically took pulled in fifteen minutes later, and they got on board.

Nick and Nicole chatted amiably together for the first part of the journey. But when the train stopped at Coorparoo, an old friend from Nicole’s state school got on. The girls squealed when they saw each other and were soon chatting about what they’d been up to since they last spoke. Nick didn’t mind because it gave him time to study the breathtaking young woman who had so suddenly swirled into his life.

‘The boy Nicole called ‘limp dick’ is right,’ Nick thought. ‘She does have a startling resemblance to Andie MacDowell’s daughter, Margaret. She’s significantly shorter, though,’ he realised. Using his mother as a guide, Nick estimated Nicole to be no more than 157 cm (5ft. 2) tall. He guessed her weight was less than 46 kg (102 lbs). Nicole’s 32B breasts were more prominent than her counterpart’s and looked big on her slender chest. However, Nicole has the same lustrous light-brown hair and blue eyes as Margaret. Plus, Nicole and Margaret share similar mouths, noses and bright white teeth. ‘Yes,’ Nick added to his musings. ‘Definitely very similar looking to Margaret Qualley.’

Nick felt his dick shift and lengthen as he watched his new, young friend. Initiating an affair with a high school student when you are a teacher is fraught with danger, especially when they were a pupil at your school. That was true even when that student was eighteen. However, Nick hadn’t felt as attracted to a woman as he felt toward Nicole since his university days. He hoped Nicole’s friend got off the train soon so he had more time to chat with Nicole.

His wish was granted at Murarrie station. Unfortunately, that left only the seldom-used Doboy station and Hemmant before the train pulled into Lindum, where Nicole would depart. Nick racked his brain, trying to think of a subject to restart their conversation. However, as was often the case in this situation, all his mind could produce was banalities about the weather or school.

But, before he could speak, Nicole turned towards him, her incongruously long legs lifting before she rested her feet on the seat across from her. “So, Gym Teacher Nick,” she teased as her eyes sought his. “You still haven’t told me how old you are.”

“No, I haven’t,” Nick confirmed before asking Nicole what she did for fun. He casually placed his hand on Nicole’s outer thigh, well below her dress’ hem. Nicole felt her heart jump and arousal flare, but she glared at him and forcefully pushed his hand off her thigh. Nick pretended nothing had happened and intently listened as Nicole described her passion, women’s softball. How she’d watched highlights of Australia’s medal-winning games at several Olympics and hoped to emulate those women and help her country win further medals.

Nicole said nothing about Nick putting his hand on her leg, but her arousal continued to grow as she remembered the thrill that raced through her body at his touch. Nicole didn’t know what she wanted. But she knew he wanted Nick to be more manly, to act more dominantly. Of course, she’d resist, rebuffing his advances, and if he were like the other boys Nicole had allowed to get this close, he’d give up, mutter about her being a dyke and storm off. Nicole hoped Nick wouldn’t give up.

However, before either could do anything about their burgeoning desire for each other, the conductor announced Lindum station, and Nicole disembarked, her thigh remembering Nick’s caress. Just before the door closed, Nick said, “Nicole?” She looked at him. “Twenty-seven,” he added as the doors closed.

Taking off the chains that held her bike to the rack, Nicole rode home in a dream. As she rode, the bicycle’s seat pressed maddeningly against her untainted entrance, and images of the young principal formed unbidden in her mind.

‘He smelled ... Manly,’ her imagination filled in for her.

Getting home, Nicole raced to her bedroom, flinging her sundress, bra and panties behind her. Leaping onto the bed, she pictured Mister Nick Cummins dressed as an old-time headmaster, carrying a cane and demanding that she bend over his desk to receive her punishment. Holding a pillow over her face, Nicole screamed into it as her flickering fingers elicited an explosive orgasm from her sopping pussy.

Nicole slept briefly and dreamed of a future—a future with an anonymous lover whom she worked and raised kids as an equal with but who was undoubtedly her man in every way that implied. He would be the man, and she would serve him willingly. Until today, that man’s face had always been blurred but now resembled a certain gym teacher she’d recently masturbated to images of.

When Nicole’s mum, Erica, arrived home, she found her pretty, vivacious, screamingly intelligent daughter singing along to the earbuds in her ears as she finished cooking dinner. ‘Billie Eilish, for sure,’ Erica thought as she watched her daughter sing, swing, and smile.

Erica worried for her daughter. Eighteen, and never once had Nicole mentioned a boyfriend. Nor had she spoken of talking to a male friend. Erica wondered if her daughter was gay. It wouldn’t matter to her or her husband, Ethan if Nicole was. Erica just wanted her daughter to be happy and well-adjusted. She wondered again whether the decision she and Ethan made to hold her back was the right one. ‘Not that I can do anything about it, now,’ she thought.

After watching her daughter sway and sing for a while, Erica dropped her work bag onto the table with a loud bang, letting Nicole know she was home. At the sudden noise, Nicole spun. Spotting her mother, she smiled and pulled the buds out.

“Evening, Mother,” she said. Knowing her mother disliked being called that.

Crossing to hug her daughter, Erica facetiously growled, “I know you’re teasing me with that name, Miss. But you’re not so big or old that I can’t spank you!”

“Sorry, Mother,” Nicole teased, knowing her parents had never physically disciplined her and wouldn’t begin now.

Mother and daughter giggled and exchanged cheek kisses before Nicole turned back to mashing the potatoes. “Have you heard from Dad?” She asked.

“Yes,” Erica answered. “We chatted using our phones’ hands-free connection on my way home. He said he was just leaving, so I’d expect him here anytime soon.”

Erica moved to get glasses. She placed them and poured wine for herself and her daughter from the cask sitting on the fridge’s bottom shelf. Then, hearing her husband’s car pulling into the driveway, she brought out a can of beer and cracked it open.

Nicole watched her mother evenly, with an eyebrow raised. Money was tight in this household, and alcohol was a treat they rarely allowed themselves.

Erica smiled and said, “Wait for your father and dinner.”

Ethan picked that time to walk in, and he, too, raised an eyebrow when Erica handed him the can.

“What’s the occasion?” He cheerfully asked as he took an appreciative swig.

“During dinner,” Erica scolded. “You smell,” she told her husband. “Go and have a shower. We’ll hold dinner for you.”

Ethan works for the city council as a labourer. It is a secure job, which is why he took it, but it doesn’t pay more than the minimum wage. With his days spent labouring at cutting grass, digging trenches, filling in potholes, or whatever else his team were assigned to meant, unless it rained, Ethan returned home tired, dirty, and smelly most days. If it rained, his team got to sit around the council sheds until either it cleared or five hours passed. After five hours of rain, Ethan’s team were sent home, receiving a full day’s pay.

Ethan loved those days because it meant he could spend the afternoon with his daughter. Her intelligence and wit enthralled him, and he wished he could give her more. He didn’t realise his daughter knew he’d sacrificed everything he and her mother had in savings to send her to an exclusive private high school and how much Nicole loved and appreciated them for doing it. She would make them proud, she vowed. Then, when her career took off, she’d pay them back by buying them their longed-for around-the-world boat cruise. First class, all the way, Nicole swore.

Ethan joined his family at the dinner table only a few short minutes later. He looked at the delicious smelling lasagne his daughter had made and smiled. Yes, money was short, but pork mince was cheap, as were the sheets between the meat layers. He marvelled how, between his wife and daughter, they could eat mince between three and five times a week but never repeat a meal. His girls typically made enough for everyone’s lunches the following day.

Erica waited until everyone had plates in front of them, then picking up her glass, she said, “A toast to me.” The others looked at her, waiting to see why. Erica didn’t disappoint. “I’ve been made regional manager for South East Queensland,” she announced.

Erica worked for a large-scale, international retail electronics company. Starting on the ground floor as a showroom salesperson, she’d, through hard work and determination alone, risen to showroom manager, then area manager, Brisbane East, and now she’d been put in charge of every store from Gympie to Tweed Heads, just over the border into New South Wales—a total of some fifty stores and with a staff of nearly two hundred people.

Five years ago, she’d missed this promotion by the skin of her teeth. Instead of sulking, complaining and undermining the new boss, as so many others in line for that promotion did, Erica concentrated on supporting and learning everything she could from him. Brian, the new regional manager, recognised this and, upon his promotion to Operations Manager, Queensland, recommended Erica as his replacement.

Brian’s endorsement meant Erica was almost a shoo-in for this promotion. However, when the job had been advertised internally, many of the same area managers as had applied last time reapplied—making her promotion no guarantee, despite her exemplary record of five straight years of growth since being made area manager. Now, of course, she’d have to endure the same backstabbing and biting as Brian had endured upon his rise. But with Brian as her mentor and supporter, Erica hoped she would have an easier time than he did.

Smiling proudly, Ethan skipped around the table before pulling his gorgeous wife out of her chair and squeezing her in a bear hug. “Well done, baby,” he told her, happy tears glistening in his eyes. “I knew you’d get there because I always believed in you.”

Erica came from an abusive household. Ethan had been her rock and support for their entire married life. In Ethan’s love and steadfastness, Erica discovered many things about herself. Primarily, that she was much stronger emotionally and mentally than her abusive parents allowed her to be. To this day, Erica carries the scars of her early years, but with Ethan’s unconditional love and support, those scars are covered thickly now.

Nicole flew around the table and was only seconds behind her father in hugging and congratulating her mother. Nicole asked the obvious question —”do you get a pay rise, Mum?”

“Nearly twenty-thousand dollars a year more,” Erica crowed. “But, better still, a company car complete with a gas card.”

“Oh, wow!” Nicole breathed.

Before she could say what she thought next, her mother smiled and said, “Yes, Nicky dear, my beat-up old Corolla becomes your car to use.”

“Nicole,” Nicole corrected absently. “I hate ‘Nicky’. When does your new job start, Mum?”

“I spend a fortnight with Brian travelling around the various showrooms and warehouses, introducing myself to the staff. Then, I spend another fortnight at the head office being trained to do the many reports and filings I have to do, and then I’m on my own. But I’m officially the new regional manager as of 9.00 am Monday. I pick up my new car the same day.”

“Wow, Mum,” Nicole stated. “So cool!”

Dinner at the Qualley household was typically a time for the family to chat and share their day. Tonight, with the excitement of Erica’s news, dinner was more boisterous than usual. Erica even allowed an extra drink each, something that generally only happened on Birthdays or at Christmas.

Two glasses of wine were more than Nicole’s system could adequately process, so she woke the next morning with a slight headache and a very dry mouth. Pulling faces at herself in the mirror, Nicole swallowed two Advil and Panadol and drank three tall glasses of water. Deciding to take some protein bars to consume when her stomach was a little less unruly, Nicole skipped breakfast and got on her bike.

Walking up from the train station, her mind filled with what she could do with her own car to use, Nicole didn’t notice the boys sliding off the wall and spreading across the footpath.

“Well, look here, boys,” ‘limp dick’ said. “If it isn’t the ugly dyke. Not so tough without your teacher escort, are you, carpet muncher?”

Glaring at the weedy boy before her, Nicole snarled, “If I’m a lesbian, then at least I know what a real pussy looks like. Given you’ve only seen airbrushed ones in your paedophile uncle’s porn folder, I could describe what a real one looks like if you want?”

“Fuck you!” ‘Limp dick’ yelled, reaching for Nicole.

Nicole didn’t hesitate. As her father had taught her, Nicole closed the distance instead of backing away as the stupid young man thought she would. Then, dropping her bag, Nicole lifted her knee forcefully, driving it into ‘limp dick’s’ nuts. ‘Limp dick’ groaned and slowly collapsed, his hands cupping his groin.

“Anybody else keen for a kick in the gonads this morning?” Nicole snarled, turning to the young man’s cronies.

The other three turned and fled. Picking up her bag, Nicole stepped around the groaning ‘limp dick’ and walked casually towards her school. Two other girls crossed the road to walk with her. Nicole didn’t have a lot of friends at her school. Most of her classmates came from families way more affluent than hers. The monetary and prestige gap between her and them was too much for the somewhat reticent Nicole to overcome. Plus, her extreme intelligence overwhelmed some of the girls, leaving them feeling inadequate to be her friend.

The bigger of the two girls, a gorgeous red-haired, green-eyed young woman who was just on the plus side of average, said, “Nicky. May we walk with you?”

Turning to her, Nicole replied, “Nicole. Not Nicky. Yes, but why?”

“Those creeps having been hassling girls all year,” ‘redhead’ explained. “You’re the first one to ever stand up to them. We’d feel safer walking with you if that’s okay?” ‘Redhead’ introduced herself, “I’m Mary. This is my sister Emily.”

“Hi,” Nicole said, smiling at the younger girl. “How come you know my name?” She asked.

“Are you kidding?” Mary said. “All of us ‘nerds’ are in awe of you. You’re going to be the school Dux (Valedictorian) with daylight second. You’re intelligent and pretty, and you seem so cool and self-confident. We all want to be like you.”

This was news to Nicole. Nicole thought she’d floated through her almost five years at high school virtually anonymously. Sure, some of the brighter kids may have known who she was because Nicole almost universally received the top marks on any exam or paper. But, other than that, Nicole didn’t think any of her classmates could pick her out in a police line-up.

Nicole was in her humanities class later that morning when a teacher’s aide entered the room. Showing the note to Nicole’s teacher, she motioned for Nicole to follow her. Mystified, Nicole packed her stuff up and followed the aide from the room.

“Hello, Miss Qualley,” the woman said. “First of all, let me assure you that the school has your back on this. The boy who assaulted you this morning has been the subject of several complaints, so don’t get too stressed, okay? It should be just a couple of questions and then done.”

Trying not to worry, Nicole allowed the aide to guide her to the principal’s office. Getting there, Nicole saw two police officers talking to Mr. Jenkins, the senior school principal. The two officers and Mr Jenkins turned to watch Nicole approach. Swallowing nervously, Nicole stopped before them and waited. The principal spoke first.

“Nicole, this is Constables Mike Avery and Joanne Small. Brett Sommers, the boy who assaulted you this morning, has been taken to The P. A. Hospital for emergency surgery on a ruptured testicle. Because he’s under eighteen, his parents have filed an assault complaint on his behalf. These officers want to take a statement from you. You’re over eighteen, so you don’t need your parents to be present, but I can call one of them to sit with you if you’d prefer.”

“Do I need a lawyer?” Nicole asked. “I’ve seen too many cop shows where an innocent person gives an innocuous statement, and suddenly, they’re in prison, fighting to stay alive.”

Constable Small smiled and said, “Of course, you’re entitled to a lawyer if you want one, but I don’t think it will be necessary. We already have statements from Mary and Emily Watkins, who witnessed what happened. Plus, we have several other witnesses to these boys’ increasingly aggressive behaviour. How about we follow Mr. Jenkins into his office, and he can be your advocate and witness for what we ask and your statement?”

“Mr. Jenkins,” Nicole asked, knowing the principal reasonably well after having received several meritorious awards from him in the past. “Do you think giving a statement is okay?”

“I believe so, Miss Qualley,” Principal Jenkins answered. “But it’s wise to have an outside witness. One the police can’t say wasn’t there to see or hear.”

Nicole turned to the officers, “I agree to start, but I reserve the right to stop and ask for a lawyer if I don’t like the direction of your questions.”

The officers agreed, and everyone moved into the principal’s office and shut the door.

Officer Small took out her notebook and said, “According to the complainant, at approximately 8:15 this morning, you took exception to how slowly he and his three friends were walking. You yelled for them to get out of their way, and when he turned to say ‘sorry’, you kneed him in his testicles. Is that what happened?”