The gym doors swing wide, but Abril stays frozen at the threshold. Her classmates stream past, sneakers screeching on the hardwood floor. Someone shouts for three more players. She watches them go, unsure how to step inside.
A basketball bounces lazily to her feet. Mateo spots it and points. "Abril! We need a ref!" She hesitates, shuffling her toes on the polished floor, then steps onto the court and calls a foul. The other kids look surprised — then grin.
At the basketball hoop, Abril shoots — the ball clanks hard against the rim and bounces away. She drops her hands and kicks at a scuff mark on the floor. The ball rolls slowly toward the water fountain at the far end of the gym.
The gym teacher blows her whistle. "Try this!" Mateo tosses her a volleyball. A fierce spike comes flying toward her. Abril leaps, arms raised high, and blocks it cleanly. The ball rockets back across the net. The gym erupts in cheers.
Abril is laughing as she runs back to center court, her sneakers slapping the hardwood in rhythm. The whistle blows again, but nobody cares. They keep playing, calling her name each time the ball comes their way.
Back at the volleyball net, the ball arcs high into the air. Abril watches it come down, her eyes tracking every bounce. She steps forward without thinking — and bumps the ball right over the net. The other kids whoop and high-five.
One by one, the other kids take turns at the net. The boy with the striped shirt tries a serve — it goes wide. The gym teacher demonstrates a perfect set, the ball landing softly in her own hands. Everyone gathers close to watch.
By the time the bell rings, Abril's sneakers are dusted with chalk from the gym floor. She walks out beside the boy with the striped shirt, both of them talking fast about the next game. Tomorrow, she thinks, she'll be first through those doors.