'Those ugly posters are everywhere,' Heather Nolan thought angrily as she pushed her rounded, black glasses back up the narrow bridge of her nose. She bent from her shoulders and sipped her drink for a moment. However, in a breath, her gaze traveled back up to the poster hanging on the ledge above her. Who really cared that the Jaguars were "Unstoppable" this year? In the whole general scheme of things, how important was it to be able to dribble a little ball down a court and put it through a hoop? It was just so unthinkable to her that anyone would put any effort into that endeavor at all-much less pay money for it.

With a jerk she twisted her fingers through the tangle of wavy, mouse-brown hair and flipped it from her shoulder onto her back. Money. That was the issue that she kept bumping up against. There was never enough of it, and yet the college just threw it away by the handful on sports. Where was the justice in that? It seemed like every other day they were cutting programs and scholarships for students like her who wanted the education, but when it came to sports, there was always more than enough money for whatever new program that came along. It made her sick just thinking about it.

"Heather. Hello. Earth to Heather," Jennifer Santana, the one person on the whole campus who bothered to talk to her on a semi-regular basis, said, waving her hand in front of Heather's face.

Immediately Heather snapped back from the melancholy thoughts. "Oh. Hi. Sorry." Only a moment to acknowledge Jennifer's presence, and then she went back to her drink and the depressing thoughts.

"He's really good looking, isn't he?" Jennifer asked as she laid her books on a chair and pulled up another to sit on.

"Who?" Heather asked, not really caring about cute guys at the moment.

"Anthony Russell."

"Who's that?"

"Anthony Russell." Jennifer hooked her thumb over her shoulder at the poster behind her. "The point guard for the Jaguars. I mean, he's black and everything, but he's still really-uh, easy on the eyes."

Heather yanked the anger back to her as she went back to her drink. "I hadn't noticed."

"Yeah right. You were staring at that poster so hard, I thought you might burn holes through it."

"Oh, yeah, the Unstoppable Jaguars." Heather pushed the other side of her thick wavy fall of hair over her shoulder and scowled. "How wonderful they are. The college gods. Oh-wow. They're so cool. I don't know why they don't just bronze them and put them up in every classroom to remind us all why we are really here."

Jennifer's light-copper eyebrows reached for the ceiling. "Whoa. A little on the edgy side today, aren't we? What's got you so riled up?"

"It's just been one of those days." Heather sighed. "Tuition is due, dorm fees are due, I've still got two books to buy for classes, and my bank account reads a big fat zero."

Concern drained onto Jennifer's face. "But I thought you had that work-study thing lined up for this semester."

"Yeah. So did I. Until I got this this morning." Heather held up a cream envelope and then dropped it back to the table next to her. "'Dear Ms. Nolan, We regret to inform you that the work-study program you were signed up for has been cut due to insufficient funding.' Insufficient funding my foot. They just need more money to pay their stars up there on that poster."

There was a long pause, and Heather knew Jenn well enough to know her brain was spiraling to find any positive thing it could to say.

"So what are you going to do?" Jennifer finally asked.

"I don't know." Heather shook her head and exhaled slowly. "I've thought about it all day, and I just...I don't know. All the decent jobs in town have been taken already, and I'm not going to go back and ask Mom and Dad for more money now." She shook her head again and punched back at the tears rising in her throat. "I don't know. It just makes no sense to me why the real students in this university get the shaft while guys like Anthony Russell, who wouldn't know a noun if it walked up and introduced itself, get to live like kings."

"Yeah," Jennifer said sympathetically. "I see what you mean, but who knows, maybe things will turn around. You never can tell."

"Yeah? Well, please, tell that to anyone up there that might happen to be listening. 'Cause right now without some serious cash, I'll be enrolling in Hanson Junior College before the end of the term."

Jennifer nodded. "I'll be sure to put in a request for you."

"I'd appreciate that." Dejectedly Heather picked up her backpack, swiped her hair out of the way, and righted the backpack onto her shoulder as she stood. "Well, I've got to get to English. I might as well learn all I can before they kick me out. You know?"

"Well, good luck," Jennifer said as Heather started for the door. "And hey, chin up!"

"Yeah, chin up," Heather replied with all of the enthusiasm of a wet noodle. "See ya later, Jenn."

"See ya."

Not even the unseasonably warm weather outside could brighten Heather's spirits as she kicked her booted feet past the flowing print skirt that hung nearly to her ankles. What was the point of even going to classes anymore? All those long hours studying, making the Dean's list every semester and even the President's list once just so she could go back and be a waitress in some dive back home? It wasn't an exciting thought.

At the Language Building, she yanked the heavy door open and trudged inside. She glanced up as she entered the stairwell and once again saw the scowl of the Unstoppable Jaguars staring back at her. The fury rose in her gut until she could barely keep herself from ripping the poster down and tearing it into tiny red, white, blue, and black shreds. It wouldn't help her situation, but it sure would feel good.

English classes had always been her favorite. The papers that everyone else groaned and moaned about seemed to her to be personal challenges from the professors, and she loved it. Now she wondered, taking her seat for Professor Mather's Dramatic Plays class, how much longer that love affair would last. She had already had Mather for two other classes, and he seemed to like her work. In fact her perfect A record in his class seemed to not even be in question this semester-provided that she could scrounge up enough money to make it through this semester. She pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind even as she twisted the hair that hung nearly to the middle of her back into a knot at her neck and held it there with the hand that wasn't preparing to take notes.

They were discussing "Hedda Gabler," and when class started, for once that day Heather forgot about even the money situation. This was her arena. Here she could be the star, and it was exhilarating. The hour flew by, and before she knew it, she was stuffing books back in her backpack.

"Ms. Nolan?" Professor Mather said over the noise of the departing students.

The book in her hand stopped in mid-stuff. "Yes, sir?"

"Could I see you in my office for a moment?"

"Oh." Heather quickly deposited the rest of her books in her backpack and swung it to her shoulder. "Sure."

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