“I didn’t mean it that way,” she nearly whispers, not once looking away like she did every five seconds last night. “I know how much work you put into your craft; I didn’t mean to insult you.” Her features pull, as if she’s struggling in some way, with what I don’t know. “Being an athlete is life consuming and I’m supposed to be here to help, not stress you out or add any new problems, so if it’s okay, let’s get started. I don’t have too much time this morning.”
