![]() ![]() Relieved that I’m spared this round, I make my way toward the net, my Asics squeaking against the gym floor. “But it’s crucial for you girls to be aggressive. ![]() It’s called Hyperventilate.”Ī chorus of groans echoes throughout the gym because yes, it’s exactly as fun as it sounds. “Okay, ladies, we’re going to wrap it up with a drill some of you will remember well. I don’t think I like the way it makes me feel, but when I started, I couldn’t stop. ![]() “I think you’re going to need a new notebook,” she says, her face breaking into a smile. “Well?” I prompt, impatient to hear her thoughts and annoyed that I even care. My heart thumps harder, hoping she doesn’t catch any particularly incriminating information, but then she’s handing it back to me. Some are written like notes you’d pass in class, some read more like poems, and others are just incoherent ramblings written sideways, upside down, and everything in between. She takes the notebook from me and flips through the pages quickly with her thumb, eyebrows pulling together at the sheer volume of words. “I just want to see that you’re filling pages.” “I’m not going to read anything, remember?” she reminds me. ![]()
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