Page 16 of Salto

My routines were as clean and consistent as ever. Caldwell gave me a few light corrections, but overall, I faded into the background compared to the other girls.

Eva and Sloane were working on much more difficult skills than I was. If anyone was getting an invitation to Vanta today, it would be them.

As I watched my teammates, a strange restlessness began building inside me. A sudden desire to be doing those skills too.

The feeling came out of nowhere, but once it was there, I couldn't shake it. Usually, I could stomp down the urge to throw higher-level skills before it became anything more. Today, it refused to stay buried. It felt like an itch I needed to scratch, or I was going to scream.

Which was insane.

Why now?

It wasn't like I could suddenly throw skills I hadn't done in years.

And it wasn't like I was trying to get into Vanta Elite.

Why did I want to impress him so badly?

As if they had a mind of their own, my eyes drifted toward him at the edge of the floor.

He was scribbling something into his notebook. A second later, he looked up.

Our eyes met.

Another electric shock rippled down my spine, and I jerked my gaze away.

Oh gosh. What was wrong with me?

I stepped off to the side, grabbed my water bottle, and took a long drink. I needed to chill out. Immediately.

Sloane wandered over a moment later, letting out a frustrated groan. My attention shifted to her as she shook out her arms.

“I need to pull more in my twist,” she grumbled to Laney, who was standing beside me. “I don't know what's going on. I'm pulling like I always do, but I can't seem to land it.”

“It's okay. You'll get it,” Laney said, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

I'd watched Sloane's floor routine enough times to know exactly what was happening.

“I think it's your left shoulder,” I blurted before I could stop myself.

She turned toward me, surprise flashing across her face.

We weren't close anymore—not the way we'd been as kids. After joining the UCLA team, she'd started acting like we never had a history.

That was fine. I wasn't going to chase someone who didn't want my friendship.

But helping? That part came naturally.

“If you tighten here”—I gestured to my own core—“and think about over-rotating through your left shoulder, I think you'll land right where you want.”

I could see the skill perfectly in my head. I'd studied it in the Code of Points so many times that it was practically branded into my brain.

Sloane nodded, relief flickering across her face. “Okay.”

She jogged back to the corner of the floor and tried the pass again.

I watched carefully from the other side of the floor, half-heartedly working through my dance passes while keeping my eyes on her. This time around, when she did the skill, she did better. She rotated tighter and landed even straighter.

That’s it, I thought.