‘I can’t get Father Hughes to approve The Vagina Monologues,’ he admitted. ‘But! There is an event that already is approved, which will be taking place in this very theater the second weekend in November. And it’s looking for more shows to add to the line-up. And I think The Vagina Monologues would be just perfect.’

I rolled my eyes. ‘Yeah, right. You’re so full of shit.’

Hockey Player Pat shook his head solemnly. ‘I swear,’ he said. ‘On the soul of the Iceman.’

Two days later, I was in the language lab, tits-deep in a riveting dialogue between Maria and José about the climate of Mérida, when I was suddenly interrupted by a perky ‘Hey, Alex!’

My nemesis, Katie Casey, was kneeling next to my computer, her apple-pie happy face smiling up at me. I took my headphones off.

‘Pat told me to come see you!’ she said.

‘Pat?’ I frowned.

‘Pat, the student stage manager at McLaughlin? Where we’re putting on the Save Your Heart Festival in November?’

‘Oh, Hockey Player Pat! You know Hockey Player Pat?’

Wait, the Save Your Heart what?

‘Wait, the Save Your Heart what?’ I said out loud.

‘The Save Your Heart Festival? In November? That we’re putting on in McLaughlin?’

Wow, this chick was really a champ at that Gen-Z speech pattern where your voice goes up questioningly at the end of your sentences.

‘We’re planning a bunch of different activities, but we still need more events, and a show focused on women would be SO great – I thought so when you mentioned it at the Club Fair! Remember? So, when Pat told me you guys were having trouble finding a venue, it sounded like fate!’

Now I remembered Katie mentioning this whole festival thing. Some kind of chastity testimonial where everyone got onstage and vowed never to look down in the shower. Obviously, Hockey Player Pat was trying to mess with me.

‘Look, thanks for coming to talk to me,’ I told her. ‘I’m sorry you wasted your time, but I think Pat orchestrated this whole thing as a joke. And, to be clear, we will not be working with you guys on The Vagina Monologues.’

Undaunted, Katie Casey smiled. ‘No worries,’ she said brightly. ‘If you change your mind, just come knock on my door – St Anne Hall three-oh-five!’

‘¡Señorita Heck!’ snapped Sister Lucia, glaring at the headphones around my neck. ‘¿Está escuchando?’

Katie Casey popped up. ‘Lo siento, Sor Lucia – tuve que preguntar algo a Señorita Heck. Ya me voy.’

Sister Lucia’s perpetual frown literally turned upside down. ‘¡Sin problema, Señorita Casey! I hope to have the pleasure of seeing you in another one of my classes soon!’