I felt a bead of sweat tracing its way down my forehead. My legs began to twitch, as if they knew how badly I wanted to run. I stared, in desperation, back at the nine pairs of eyes that watched my every move. For a second, I imagined my escape- sprinting down the stairs, past the faded murals on the walls, out the gate and into the street. But just for a second. Although my level of terror might suggest...

I will openly admit that I used to be terrible at communication, in all of its many forms. I would forget to reply to emails, leave text messages unopened, and . It was never my intention to appear rude or to ignore people; rather, I had gotten into the nasty habit of, when I was not able to think of an immediate response, to convince myself that I would reply to them “later.” “Later,” I would tell myself, “I will have...