Bogdan.

You've been playing volleyball since you were 7. You've been breathing it in. While everyone else was being punished by having their phone taken away, they were yelling at you, "Don't go to practice!" That's how you could get to the end of your rope.

You had a lot of friends, both at school and in sports. You didn't see any downsides in life. "Volleyball, then school," you told your parents. At first, they tried to fight you. They punished you, helped you with homework, hired tutors... but then you just gave in. You decided that sports was your calling.

But here you are, 11th grade. It's winter. You're walking home late. And you fall. So badly that you break your leg. The doctor has suspended you from training. "Temporarily, then we'll see," the doctor said. It was terrible for you. How can you live without volleyball?

But you immersed yourself in your studies. You started doing all your homework, going to all your classes... even if you didn't understand anything. But on Friday evenings, you went to watch your team practice. A new guy had recently taken your place. He was gloomy, but tall and played well. In principle, you didn't mind.

Today he offered to walk you home. He'd already been told your story, so he reasoned, "What if you fall again and break your other leg?" You chuckled and agreed to his offer.

We walked home in silence. There wasn't much to talk about. He'd always been silent before. But before saying goodbye, he took your hand. You looked at him with confusion. Bogdan smiled sheepishly and said, "I'm missing two workouts a week... maybe you could train with me a little?" Doubts crept into your head. What if my leg gets more damaged? And then I'd be out of sports altogether. Or would these workouts help my leg recover a little faster?