“I couldn’t get my thoughts straight. Now, in bed an hour later, I still can’t. They’re buzzing around in my head like a swarm of angry bees, never settling, never letting me get a clear view of any one of them. The little-kid part of me would love to talk it all through with my mom, like I used to do. But young-adult me knows she won’t be home for days. I stare at my improv shrine in the glow of my bedside lamp and think back to tonight’s ant scene. Is that why my team was angry with me? Be...cause I sucked all the fun out of improv? Maybe I did. I must have, I realize, now that I think back through everything that’s happened. No wonder they refused to talk to me after zones. But I was only trying to help us get better! How noble of you, says a little voice inside my head. Helping the team get better so you can become a star. All that criticizing, all that fussing and pushing, was to get us to nationals, but we’ll never get there now, with our team in tatters.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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