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had done as she was told, and to give me an earful about how she hoped we would be a better influence on her daughter than the now-jailed Stacey Goode had been. I guess if you want to blame a violent criminal for how your kid’s turning out, it makes perfect sense to send her off to the people who’d busted that criminal, and exposed your kid’s involvement.
    You know, rather than spending some actual time with the kid yourself. Sammi’s mom was “a very busy top real estate agent.” She was very important. Whatever. I’d spent the last eight years-plus meeting up with people on the mat who thought they were very important, and fighting tooth and nail to prove otherwise—mostly to other people who had just as over-inflated a sense of importance as the athletes—the referees.
    “I can try making the rounds again tomorrow,” I told Blythe. “I might even manage to avoid disaster and actually talk to some parents this time.”
    “Speaking of that, I called the school while you were gone—”
    “You called the school?” I was back on my feet again, stalking over to her desk. “We had a deal! This is speaking of disaster!”
    “I meant speaking of recruiting . And I was just feeling them out, seeing if we could include flyers in the kids’ take-home information … ”
    “Oh.”
    I relaxed a little. I really needed to stop over-reacting and assuming the worst. Especially of Blythe.
    Then my wonderful sister smiled at me and said, “The principal and I got to chatting, and I have great news. They’d love to have you come in and talk to a couple of PE classes, but what they’d really like is for you to speak at their all-school assembly for Fitness Day.”
    “What! What happened to ‘just feeling them out’?”
    “She brought it up! And I didn’t commit. I told her I’d check with you on your availability, but … Brenna, you can’t turn this down. Hundreds of kids. It’s the perfect way to kickstart this place.”
    My mind was reeling. A merry-go-round of laughing kids’ faces whirred through my imagination, pointing, mocking. Did I ever mention I didn’t have a very good school experience?
    “Fitness Day? They’re going to expect me to tell them to eat broccoli and drink milk—without cookies.”
    “You don’t have to talk about diet. Talk about exercise.”
    Right. No matter what the subject, I was going to be up on a stage with hundreds of kids listening to my every fumbled-over word. What a nightmare! “I can’t do it. Not an auditorium. Tell her no.”
    “Okay, how about this—you talk to each PE class during Fitness Day. Still lots of kids, but one class at a time.”
    I squeezed my eyes shut and massaged my temples with my fingers. That was one thing I definitely missed about being an elite athlete, ranked high enough to get funding and other perks from Judo US. The massages. The ice baths, not so much.
    “I don’t know, Blythe. I’ll think about it.”
    “You’re a great speaker, Brenna. Whenever you do a judo seminar, you hold all the kids’ attention. They love you.”
    “That’s different.”
    “How?”
    “First, they’re judo kids.”
    She knew exactly what I meant by that. They were there because they already loved judo, and they were eager to learn from an Olympian. They knew how hard it was to make the team; they understood Americans rarely medalled and that we were up against nations who were judo powerhouses, parts of the world where the very best athletes were funneled into judo instead of basketball or football. Where they had exponentially greater opportunities for different practice partners, training camps, and competitions, right in their own backyards. Most judo kids had also learned to behave and be respectful by the time their coaches deemed them ready to participate in one of my clinics.
    “And their senseis are always there to help make sure they pay attention. Second—” I held up two fingers. This was the most important point—“We are doing