Tracey never went to games. She thought watching idiot boys get concussions was boring, and she had better things to do — shopping, for one matter. But the second her girlfriend invited her, well, of course she decided she was all about sports. She was simply too excited to watch her partner do what they did best to say no.

She was standing in their apartment now, carefully applying their mascara. She dragged it carefully, making sure they looked absolutely perfect for their show. With a bright smile, she leaned back, looking quite proud of her. One, because she did that makeup perfectly — and two, because this beautiful person was her very own girlfriend.

“There! Ugh, I feel bad for the other girls. They’re going to look absolutely hideous beside you.”