Page 39 of Salto

I did a cast to handstand before I could stop myself, and he was true to his word about heavily spotting me. His hand gripped my forearm, his other right there on my back, following me perfectly to the beginning of the skill.

It was now or never.

I swung down, opened my shoulders, released, up over the bar, and watched it pass below me. Everything suddenly seemed to move in slow motion.

There was a slight twinge of pain in my back, but nothing unbearable. I was a little higher than I expected, my short arms reaching for the bar to catch, but I could already see I was too far away.

Rove gripped either side of my waist, correcting my trajectory and helping lead me back toward the bar.

My hands caught, and chalk sprayed into the air with the impact, sprinkling around my face.

I should've missed it.

But Rove had already corrected the mistake before it could become one.

His hands never left me.

The course correction was flawless. He had anticipated and reacted without missing a beat.

When I kipped back to front support, I felt a little shaken up. But in the best way.

I just did that.

I sat there stunned for a few moments.

Rove stepped back, his hands leaving me and resting on the bar again.

“I told you I had you,” he said, a smidge of smugness in his tone.

I looked over at him and gave him an incredulous smile.

“You’re going to make me do that again, aren’t you?”

He pursed his lips and nodded. I wanted him to look more apologetic, but he didn’t seem so in the slightest.

“Again.”

CHAPTER 15

Floor with Vanta was nerve-wracking, but not nearly as terrifying as doing that Tkatchev with Rove.

Vanta was intense. He always had his arms folded, assessing from the side of the floor, his brow furrowed. I don’t think he smiled at anyone the entire time. There was no praise, just corrections.

Nothing was getting past him, and he wasn’t going to be easy to please. He may actually be impossible to please.

But that wasn’t what terrified me. I could handle a tough coach. I’d had dozens of coaches throughout my life, and many of them had been intense. It was the difficulty of the skills—and the pain I was trying to ignore.

He had us working double pikes, double backs, double layouts, and full-ins. By this time, we’d been going for almost three hours, and I was starting to feel it now. The familiar ache in my lower back was officially reaching a stage that had me gritting my teeth.

I ignored the pain, told myself it was almost over, and pushed forward.

I could only imagine just how sore I’d be tomorrow.

After a double layout, I was climbing out of the foam blocks that were swallowing my small frame. As I finally escaped the quicksand-like sensation of the pit, I saw Vanta give me a quick nod of approval.

“Tighten your lower back,” was all he said.

I nodded and got back in line.