{"product_id":"its-all-or-nothing-vale-isbn-9780593810958","title":"It's All or Nothing, Vale","description":"\u003cb\u003eA poignant novel in verse in which, after a life-changing accident, one girl finds her way back to her life’s passion. From the Newbery Honor-winning author of \u003ci\u003eIveliz Explains It All\u003c\/i\u003e.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA \u003ci\u003eBOOKLIST\u003c\/i\u003e BEST BOOK OF THE YEAR\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eAll these months of staring at the wall?\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eAll these months of feeling weak?\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eIt’s ending—\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eI’m going back to fencing.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eAnd then it’ll be\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003elike nothing ever happened.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNo one knows hard work and dedication like Valentina Camacho. And Vale’s \u003ci\u003ething\u003c\/i\u003e is fencing. She’s the top athlete at her fencing gym. Or she was . . . until the accident.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAfter months away, Vale is finally cleared to fence again, but it’s much harder than before. Her body doesn’t move the way it used to, and worst of all is the new number one: Myrka. When she sweeps Vale aside with her perfect form and easy smile, Vale just can’t accept that. But the harder Vale fights to catch up, the more she realizes her injury isn’t the only thing holding her back. If she can’t leave her accident in the past, then what does she have to look forward to?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn this moving novel from the Newbery Honor-winning author of \u003ci\u003eIveliz Explains It All\u003c\/i\u003e, one girl finds her way back to her life’s passion and discovers that the sum of a person's achievements doesn’t amount to the whole of them.★ \"\u003cb\u003eMoving and insightful\u003c\/b\u003e.\" —\u003ci\u003eKirkus Reviews\u003c\/i\u003e, starred review\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e★ \"This novel promises to be \u003cb\u003ethe rapier to the heart\u003c\/b\u003e the reader needs to take control of their own choices.\" —\u003ci\u003eBooklist\u003c\/i\u003e, starred review\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e★ \"Arango’s fans will celebrate the opportunity to read another poignant story told in verse; it packs a punch, and is \u003cb\u003ebrimming with love and optimism\u003c\/b\u003e.\" —\u003ci\u003eSchool Library Journal\u003c\/i\u003e, starred review\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"\u003cb\u003e[A] narrative that highlights chosen family\u003c\/b\u003e and the integral part it plays in forming one’s sense of self.\" —\u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\"\u003cb\u003e[A] beautiful reminder\u003c\/b\u003e that there’s more to life than being the best.\" —\u003ci\u003eThe Bulletin\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\"\u003cb\u003eArango’s accessible verse strikes\u003c\/b\u003e at Vale’s emotional core as she considers her worth and identity in the face of her challenges....the depiction of a brown-skinned, queer girl in the world of fencing is \u003cb\u003enoteworthy\u003c\/b\u003e.\" —\u003ci\u003eThe Horn Book\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cb\u003eAndrea Beatriz Arango\u003c\/b\u003e is the author of Newbery Honor Book \u003ci\u003eIveliz Explains It All\u003c\/i\u003e and the Pura Belpré Honor Book \u003ci\u003eSomething Like Home\u003c\/i\u003e. She was born and raised in Puerto Rico, where she first became a teacher. She then spent a decade in the United States working in public schools and nonprofits. When she’s not busy writing about middle schoolers and their families, you can find her hoping to spot manatees at the beach. Andrea lives in Puerto Rico with her family and two dogs.Back to School\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI wake up to my pink cane\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003epropped up against the dresser--\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ea spot where I know\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI didn’t leave it\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebefore going to bed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMami put it there while I slept,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI’m positive,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eas if waking up and seeing it\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewould logically make me grab it,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eas if its nearness to my\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ecarefully picked out\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efirst-day-of-school outfit\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewould make it the natural accessory\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efor my first day back.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt doesn’t matter how many times I tell her\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethat I don’t want it,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eshe doesn’t listen--\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ealways going on and on\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewith her metaphors\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand cutesy phrases\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003einsisting my cane is inspirational\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand lecturing me on how using it\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eis just like someone using glasses\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand so I shouldn’t be ashamed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut it’s not that I’m ashamed--\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eit’s that I’m confused.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNervous of what everyone at school will say\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eif I come to class with a cane some days\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebut not others,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003elike I must be hiding a secret,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003elike I did virtual school\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ejust for fun,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003elike whatever they heard about me,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eabout my accident,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eabout my surgeries,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehas to be a lie\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebecause the Valentina in front of them\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003edoesn’t look injured,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eis rejoining her fencing gym this week,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebecause\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe seventh-grade Valentina in front of them?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWith her Dutch braids,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efrowning face,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ecalendar counting down the days?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe looks exactly like the\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003etough\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003echampion\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eathlete\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eshe’s always been.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBackground Noise\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“No me voy a llevar el baston,”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI inform Mami\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eas I come down the stairs,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eignoring my stiff ankle and\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ecutting her off before she can open her mouth\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto ask why I don’t have my cane.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLuis Manuel is already at the kitchen table\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003escarfing down chocolate Pop-Tarts\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewith a glass of milk,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand I see him make a face under his curls and\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003econcentrate on his breakfast\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebecause we both know those are fighting words\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ein the Camacho Gutierrez\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003emorning routine.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI grab a can of guava juice from the fridge as\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePapi instantly defends me,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003esaying there’s no point in giving people\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe wrong idea\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhen I’ll be starting up my training again so soon.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhich then immediately prompts\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eone of Mami’s speeches,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eher most common one,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe one about how I’m not the same Vale\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewho competed in Summer Nationals last year,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethat me and Papi can’t pretend everything is fine\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ejust ’cause we want it to be\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand that\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eif we’re all being honest,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI probably shouldn’t fence again at all.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI practically have this argument memorized by now,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ecan mumble along with both of them\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eas I take each sip of my juice.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePapi all: She doesn’t need a cane. She just needs to strengthen her left leg.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThen Mami: If she didn’t need a cane, the PT wouldn’t have suggested one.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThen Papi: Look at her! She’s fine. Aren’t you fine, Vale? Tell your mother.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd Mami: She’s not fine! Didn’t you see her limping? Vale, show your dad.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI don’t bother answering either of them\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebecause as long as I keep quiet,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003emy parents will argue alone\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efor twenty minutes easy,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eeven if everything they say\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eis just a repeat\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eof something they’ve said before.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHalfway through my juice, though,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003emy brother swallows the last of his food\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand points at the garage door with his lips.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd even though I was supposed to ride the bus today,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eeven though Luis Manuel threw a fit last week\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003etelling us all how driving me to Jefferson Middle\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewould make him late to Jefferson High,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehis tall, lanky self\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003equietly leads me through the garage door,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eleaving our parents still arguing,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand then drives me to school\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewithout a single complaint.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI Know Me Best\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI wish I could say Mami just got up\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eon the wrong side of the bed this morning,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebut she says stuff like this all the time now,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebuys me all sorts of random natural medicines\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethat don’t work,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe closer we get\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto me being allowed to fence again.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt’s like she thinks giving up what makes me me\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eshouldn’t be a big deal at all,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethat my energy could be better used trying out\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhatever “new solutions” for my pain\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eshe’s found online that day.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd I don’t understand how she can’t see that\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efencing again,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe promise of it,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eis the only thing that’s kept me going\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethrough the surgeries\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand the doctors\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand the complete rearranging\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eof my life.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat fencing isn’t just a hobby\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI can pick up and put down--\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eit’s who I am.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt’s what keeps me me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd anyone who can’t see that\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eis clearly not Team Valentina,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eeven if it’s my own mother,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eeven if she insists\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eeverything she says\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eis out of love.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBecause We Love You\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBefore my accident\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eporque te queremos\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003emeant my parents were tough on me\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhen I didn’t win.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt meant Papi would film me\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eso we could go over all my mistakes,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand I’d always get in trouble with Mami\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eif I didn’t eat enough carbs\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe night before a match\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eor didn’t get enough sleep\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003edue to nerves.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt meant I wasn’t allowed to say I was tired\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eafter practice\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eor say I wanted to take a week off\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand if I ever complained\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMami would remind me\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethat she never got the chance\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto ever compete\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto ever take lessons in anything\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand I’m lucky to have parents who work so hard.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd, yeah, Papi is still the same, I think\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebut it’s like Mami went to bed\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe night of my accident\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand woke up as someone brand-new.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd as bad as it sometimes felt\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto be pushed and pushed all the time\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethis?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003enow?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eis a million times worse.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBecause if love used to mean\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003enever letting me give up\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhat does it mean now--\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003enow that Mami has forgotten\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewho I used to be?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eParallel Universe\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEven though I’ve been counting down the days,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eready to restart regular life,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJefferson Middle School still feels weird,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eitchy,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eslightly off,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand though I glare at everyone around me,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethough my raised eyebrows dare them\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto even try saying something to my face,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI keep catching kids\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003elooking at me around corners and behind lockers,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003etrying to see if I’m limping,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWHICH I’M NOT\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003etrying to see me doing anything\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethat would match up with what they were imagining\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ein their gossipy group chats.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd it makes the back of my neck prickle,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe temper Coach Nate always warns me about\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethreatening to flare up,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebecause it’s not like I asked\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto get excused from group sports in gym\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eit’s not like I asked\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto be allowed to walk slow\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand arrive late to class\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eall because my flare-ups\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eare so hard to predict.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd maybe I should have brought my cane to school\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ejust so I could test how similar to my epee blade\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eit could be\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ein knocking someone out.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhatever.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt doesn’t matter anyway.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSchool is just the place I go to during the day\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto learn all the things I won’t need\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eonce I’m a pro international fencer\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003etraining day and night.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePlus, Amanda is here.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAmanda, with her straight\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eshiny black hair\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand friendly eyes,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewho surprises me today\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewith a bag full of 3 Musketeers\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand says, “Te extrane, Vale,”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ein her soft Mexican accent\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003elike she actually means it\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand is glad to see me\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ephysically back at school.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI don’t really have friends,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eif I’m honest,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebecause (a)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efencing is a big commitment\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethat most people don’t understand\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand (b)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebecause I don’t always believe people\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhen they tell me things,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eespecially doctors and other fencers\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand Mami most of all.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAmanda, though,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eis not a fencer,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehas never brought up my leg in texts,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand so when she offers me her arm at school,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI link mine through it,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebecause being stared at all day\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eis not as terrible with company,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand there’s definitely less chance of me\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehitting someone\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewith Amanda next to me,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eshaking her head.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDinner Is Awkward\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWe all pretend this morning didn’t happen\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand Mami even makes me my favorite--\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003earroz guisado--\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebut the nice gesture is hard to focus on\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebecause all she wants to know\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eis how being back at school went.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAll\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“¿Te duele la pierna, Vale?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eas she hands me my plate,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eall\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“¿Como te sientes, Vale?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eas she sits down,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eall\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“¿Quieres que te de un masajito despues de comer?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebefore Papi tells her to give me a break.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt’s as if the only thing\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethat could possibly be worth talking about with her\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eis my leg hurting\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand the quick and easy solution\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ea simple massage for the pain.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI don’t need lotions or massages.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI don’t need Mami babying me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI don’t need anyone to make me a special dinner.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBecause guess what?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNone of those things even help!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhat I need\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eis for everything to go back to normal,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efor each day’s trivia--\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewill I hurt today or not?--\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto become part of my past\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand disappear from my future,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efor the dinner conversation to go back to being about\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ecompetitions and rivals\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efor life to go back to being\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efencing\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eschool\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efencing\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand for Mami to go back\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto the way she used to be\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebefore she became convinced I was something fragile--\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eback when she wouldn’t have cared if I was sore\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eshe would’ve cared that I complained.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI eat quickly,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eonly half listening\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eas Luis Manuel distracts our parents\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewith the new mosaic piece he’s working on\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efor his independent art study this year.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEat quickly, saying nothing,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eeven as my leg buzzes with soft heat\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efrom my first full day walking down\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003econcrete hallways\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eafter so many months of\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003esoft carpet\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eat home.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThis is almost over, Vale,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI tell myself in between bites.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYou’re almost there, I promise.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAll this time of feeling weak,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eall these months of staring at the wall\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewondering if there was something wrong with my brain\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efor weighing how much it would hurt\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eif I just ripped my medical boot in two\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand took off--\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eit’s ending.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI’m going back to fencing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI’m going back to training.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd then it’ll be like I was never even\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ein a stupid crash,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003elike nothing ever happened--\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ejust a small hurdle\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI’ll tell the sports interviewers\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhen years from now\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethey make a documentary\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eabout my life.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGym\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSitting out during basketball on Wednesday\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“just for a little bit,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ejust to be cautious”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eis annoying\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebut it also lets me daydream about\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003emy big fencing return tomorrow,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003enow that my ankle can bend\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhatever number of degrees my doctors decided\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003emade it okay for me to fence.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt’s weird, really,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehow my return is more about angles\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003emeasurements\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eX-rays\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand not how my body feels inside.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWeird, but good too,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebecause those numbers\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003egave me something to count toward\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eduring the months\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhen I couldn’t even make it to the bathroom\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewithout leaning on my rolling walker\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe whole time.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt’s embarrassing, honestly,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehow many weeks I spent listening\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto doctors\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto Mami\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto my brother asking if I was okay\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhen I could have been listening\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto the sharp computer beeps\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eannouncing every touch of my blade,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ecould have been listening\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto the sneakers shrieking\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eas the other kids\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehoped for a win on the strip\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eonly to have to face me\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand lose.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLuis Manuel has always said\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efencing bouts sound too angry\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003esmell too awful--\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003elike sweat mixed with the sound of stress.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut he’s wrong\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebecause nothing compares\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto the adrenaline of your own body\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eas you win\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe scent of strength\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ein every one of your pores\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eas you face someone in all your armor\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand score the winning touch.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI’ve missed fencing\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eof course I have\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003emissed the weight of my jacket\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003estamped with U.S. CAMACHO\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ea whole lot.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSure, it’s not always fun;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efencing is a lot of work.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWorth it, though.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eForever worth it\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efor those sweet high-pitched beeps\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethose sliding sneakered feet\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand the rush\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe thrill\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eevery time the referee calls out\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003emy winning touch.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePhysical Therapy\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDr. Claudia is Puerto Rican like me,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhich is why I think my parents picked her\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eout of the list of names my surgeon gave us\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eafter the operation where he put\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003epieces of metal in my leg\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eso I could be half robot as I healed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd she’s nice, Dr. Claudia,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eshe is,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebut I wish she’d focus more on the fact\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethat I’m pretty much\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ea pro athlete\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhich means that she should be speeding me through\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ea fast and serious recovery plan\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003einstead of whatever slow and easy kid schedule\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eshe has laid out in the notebook\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethat she’s always writing in.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI mean, I like her special massages\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eher stretches\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eher exercises\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand all the weird fancy tech she uses on my leg,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebut every week when I ask her,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“When can I stop coming here?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eshe waves me off,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eanswers with sentences that mean nothing, like\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Let’s see how your leg responds to this first,”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhich might work on her other patients\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebut won’t work on me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd seriously,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehow can I get good enough at physical therapy\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto graduate from it\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhen I don’t even know what the rubric is?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhat Do You Mean, “Forever”?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eToday I come to therapy with my mind made up,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebecause now that I’m back at school\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eabout to be back at Fencing Paradise\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI need Dr. Claudia to be honest with me\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand tell me when\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI can expect to get fixed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI’ve got goals, you know?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSummer Nationals are calling my name!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd I’m done being patient\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhen I need answers\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003enot later, not eventually,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNOW.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Dr. Claudia,”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI say seriously,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eor as seriously as I can\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhile lying face up on a table\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eas my whole body vibrates\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efrom the special massager\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eshe’s using on my calf.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“When can I stop coming here?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd give me a real answer this time.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDr. Claudia stops the massager\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand helps me sit up.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Valentina,”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eshe says.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I can’t answer that question.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut more importantly,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ejust because you eventually stop coming here\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003estop working with me\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003edoesn’t mean you won’t have to do stretches\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand massages\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003emaybe forever\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eat home.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSometimes our bodies change\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003etemporarily,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebut sometimes those changes are more\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003epermanent,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand the goal with physical therapy\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eis not to fix\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebut to strengthen\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003enot to change\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebut to give you the skills\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand tools\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto adapt.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd I try to focus on what she’s saying\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebut I’m distracted by the woman\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eat the table next to me\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003elaughing\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eas she gets her knee brace taken off.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYes, yes,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003esome things are temporary\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand some are permanent,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebut for my leg?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThis is just a setback.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA challenge.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLike when my ex‑best friend Stephanie\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003etore her ACL years ago\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebut since then has been fine.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThis leg thing?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJust a tiny obstacle for me to conquer\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eon the path to being\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ea worldwide champ.","brand":"Yearling","offers":[{"title":"Default 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