The July sun hammered into Kai’s back as she jumped rope in her driveway. She hated the purity of jumping rope. It could never be anything other than straight up work, no matter how much you tried to make it fun. Kai had tried everything, but nothing ever worked: headphones always fell out, speakers got drowned out by the slap of the rope against the concrete, and it was never scenic because it could only be done in one place. Jump roping was labor through and through, no breaks, no daydreaming, no thrills, just calories evaporating into the ether.
It worked, though. After thirty-five minutes, Kai felt the same level of exhaustion as after an hour of tennis. Satisfied, she stopped, tossing the nylon rope aside and plopping into the gasping crabgrass of her front yard.
June was gone forev
