Page 5 of Salto

I paused, a piece of steak skewered on my fork.

She noticed immediately when I stilled. “I just mean that you don’t have to chase something bigger to prove anything.”

Most athletes would kill for parents like mine. Will and Lucia were gold-medal parents. They were endlessly supportive, never pushing unrealistic expectations onto me and always trying to remind me that I was enough. They were good people. They always had been. And I loved them fiercely.

I just wished that sometimes, they’d push me a little harder instead of always trying to protect me from myself.

“I’m not planning to,” I said.

They relaxed at that. Just a little.

“We just want you healthy,” Mom said gently. “And happy.”

“I am happy,” I replied.

It wasn’t a lie… not really.

Dad smiled. “Good. That’s all we want, sweetheart.”

“Hey, Scar?” Jamie cut in suddenly.

“Yeah?” I said quickly, grateful for the shift in conversation.

“Could I come down and stay with you in a few weeks? For spring break. Just a day or two?”

I sat up a little straighter, caught off guard by the sudden request. It had been a few months since we'd spent any real time together, just the two of us, and even longer since we'd had a sleepover.

If I was being honest, I'd felt like a pretty terrible sister. Home was only an hour away, but I didn't make it back nearly as often as I should have. Before college, Jamie and I had been a lot closer.

“Oh—uh… yeah,” I said. “I don’t see why not.”

I ran through the timing in my head. It would be after the season ended. I might actually have a few days off, and Jenny would probably be in Virginia visiting her family.

“My roommate will be gone,” I added, glancing at my parents. “And I’ll have a short break. If Mom and Dad are okay with it, I think that should work.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Mom said immediately, beaming. “The two of you having some fun.”

“Cool.” Jamie gave a small smile, then turned back to her food like she hadn’t just done something extremely out of character.

I glanced at my mom, giving a small shrug. She winked at me. “It’ll be good for you two to spend some time together.”

The waitress came by to refill our drinks, and the conversation drifted—classes, work, normal everyday things. It was nice to see my family and talk with them.

But a little later into our meal, as my dad was prattling on about some massive new construction job he had been hired onto, my gaze wandered across the room to another table where a few of my teammates sat.

Eva, a new freshman who joined the team this year, was showing a group of people at her table something on her phone. It looked like they were replaying her vault routine. Her performance had just barely edged mine out tonight.

She was incredible. Olympic-level talented.

Her friends leaned closer as she talked, and I caught the words "elite scout" drifting across the restaurant.

My grip tightened slightly around my fork, and I tried very hard to focus on the food in front of me.

Caldwell had mentioned something about an elite gym wanting to scout Eva. She'd slipped through the cracks for sure, but not for much longer. She very well might be picked up in the next week or so to pursue an Olympic career.

I told myself it didn't sting. That college was most definitely enough. Because it was. I really didn't need more right now. Most people only ever dreamed of becoming a college athlete. I should be grateful for the opportunities I did have.

But it was the same thing I'd been telling myself for years now.