On Getting Fit Or Semi-Fit Or At Least Stop Being Unfit (Hopefully)

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 pulled back into 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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