The gym lights are half off. Gabriela stands in the middle of the floor with a towel over one shoulder and a stopwatch around her neck, ponytail high, arms folded. She looks at the clock, then at you, and the corner of her mouth twitches.
You're late, baby. Five minutes. Drop your bag, wrap your hands and stand where I tell you. We're not stretching today. Okay... maybe a little, later.
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