“My spectating grade?” I laugh. “What are you judging me on? How loud I yelled?” “That’s one of the criteria. I saw you cheering, so you get an A for enthusiasm.” “I’ve always been a good student.” He scoots back in his chair and stands. He walks around the corner of the island until he’s close to me. “You failed in one area, though.” “Oh?” I lift an eyebrow. “Are you going to tell me how I can improve for next time?” “Turn around,” he says in a low voice. My feet move in a small circle until my back is to him. Until I can’t see him but can only hear him, and I don’t know what’s going on. I
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