On Getting Fit

It’s sixth period gym class. I’m in seventh grade, wearing awkward red gym shorts that fall to my knees and an oversized Nike t-shirt that looked a lot cooler on the rack when I begged my stepmom to buy it for me. My long hair is back in a frizzy ponytail┬ápulled way too tight on my skull and I’m dreading the inevitable words that always begin┬ámy least favorite day of the week: “We’re playing dodgeball today.”

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