Since I was young, I have always known this: Life damages us, every one. We can’t escape that damage. But now, I am also learning this: We can be mended. We mend each other

When her body first hit the net, all I registered was a gray blur. I pulled her across it and her hand was small, but warm, and then she stood before me, short and thin and plain and in all ways unremarkable- except that she had jumped first. The stiff had jumped first.
Even I didn't jump first.
Her eyes were so stern, so insistent.
Beautiful.

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"You're not very nice," I say, grinning.
"You're one to talk."
"Hey, I could be nice if I tried."
"Hmm." He taps his chin. "Say something nice, then."
"You're very good-looking."
He smiles, his teeth a flash in this dark. "I like this 'nice' thing."