Exhausted, sweaty, and we all stink. But for the first time, I don't feel like I have one foot in the grave after practice. My body must have finally pushed passed that plateau I've been struggling with. It feels good to keep up more.
I trail in behind the others, throwing my jersey in the giant laundry cart on my way by. I can't imagine being the person who does laundry around here. Practice clothes are disgusting. If it was me, I'd be tempted to set the whole cart on fire on a daily basis.
The locker room is loud. When a few dozen sweaty athletes all start throwing gear around, the noise level definitely goes up a few notches. I almost don't hear Christian over it all.
"Did you ask her out?"
"What?" I ask as I strip off my cleats. "Who? What are you talking about?"
"I seem to rememb
