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By the time the final bell rang, I was practically bouncing in my seat. Every tick of the clock felt like it was dragging on just to tease me. As soon as class ended, I hurriedly shoved my books into my bag and dashed for the gym, trying to mask the inner panic I was feeling the whole way there.
When I got to the gym, the Wolves' basketball team was deep into practice. Their white-and-green jerseys shone under the bright lights, sneakers squeaking on the polished court, and the noise of bouncing balls mixed with sharp whistles filled the air.
I hesitated at the entrance, gripping the strap of my bag. There were only a few students on the benches, mostly girlfriends or diehard fans who actually knew what a rebound was. Meanwhile, I was just trying to remember how to breathe.
