act two: main comm

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah oh my god oh my god OH MY GOD.

I have a date with Vince a boy tonight. Well. He doesn't know it's a date, but I heard from Annabel who heard from her cousin who just happens to be a trainer on his team that they're all headed to the same pub we're frequenting. Because, clearly, that is what Quidditch teams do after games in foreign (or home) countries: get properly sloshed and forget our aches and pains in bottomless glasses of our favorite liquors. Mine's whiskey, for the record.

And I still don't know what to wear. He did say last time, after he took my picture, that I could probably stop traffic in a jersey alone...