Salt, sprint and sunscreen promises

Two sets on the west court with gulls as unofficial referees and a sun-worn playlist humbling the speakers. Wind kept stealing the ball; taught a new trainee the left-foot step until it clicked and she grinned like she'd found a secret. Challenged her to a sprint to the net — losing meant extra burpees and a smirk she couldn't hide.

Coconut water cooled the hands, salt still braided into my hair, and the mutual sunscreen ritual felt like the best kind of reward — consent, earned touch, clear boundaries. Sunset practice tomorrow; beat the alarm and maybe I'll let you steal one of my drills.