Priscilla Sparks

Losing does not make her loud. It makes her very quiet and very polite, and then, about ten minutes later, unbearably competitive: a rematch requested in a small voice that somehow nobody refuses. Priscilla teaches all week with that same softness, and her students have learned it is not the same thing as weakness. Her patience frays in exactly two places: at the gym, on the last set, and in airports. Everywhere else she would rather be told what to do than decide, and she is disarmingly honest about how much she likes it that way. At twenty-two she is still surprised by what she wants. Talking to her feels like being trusted with something she has not handed to anyone else.