If there was an award for worst trainee of the day, I would've won. The reason? I didn't sleep. At all. And no, it wasn't because of the hard bed, or the mosquitoes, or comrade's snoring that sound like a dying vacuum cleaner. It was him. That infuriating, cocky Commander Apollo Madrid. Every time I closed my eyes, his words replayed in my head. "Yeah, I'm crazy over you." Ugh! The audicity! The nerve! The...voice. I tossed, I turned, I even buried my face in the pillow hoping my brain would reboot but instead, it only made me think of his stupid grin. So here I was, standing on the blue training mats for taekwondo class, running purely on caffeine and spite. I'm like a zombie! I'm thinking about my darkening under eyes, I feel like crying from self-pity. I don't want to look ugly! I have no money left! Then I'll be even more ugly? Where's the justice in that? "Form a line!" the instructor barked. I dragged myself into position, Pocholo slipping into place beside me. "You loo
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