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ne of my best memories from high school was showing up to my junior prom with scraped up knees.
Days before, my softball teammates and I had beaten our league rivals, the Mustangs, in an intense stand-off that had us all rushing the field when our winning run finally scored.
I didn’t mind being dolled up in lace and frills with my bruised and bloodied knees. I wore those bandages like a badge of honor; it was the most school pride I’d felt so far in my three years in high school.