Page 72 of Salto

CHAPTER 27

Iwoke up Sunday and immediately regretted my life choices.

Every muscle in my body protested as I rolled onto my back and looked up at the porthole in my ceiling.

One week.

Somehow I'd survived one week.

I don’t know how long I lay there—questioning all my decisions. But I knew I needed to get moving. Once I got the blood pumping, I'd inevitably feel better.

It took me twenty minutes just to get out of bed, brush my teeth, and pull my hair into a ponytail. But eventually I shuffled out into the kitchen, my eyes immediately drifting to the balcony and the beach beyond. Usually on my days off, I went to the beach.

I fought an internal battle for a few moments, debating between staying in to watch TV and going down to enjoy the ocean.

My love for the water beat out my soreness, and I decided I’d just go down for a little bit, enjoy the sun, and maybe it would feel good on my muscles to lie in the sand.

It took me twenty more minutes to get into a swimsuit, but when I finally made it down to the beach, the sun was just starting to warm the sky. It felt so good and looked so beautiful that I wasn't even thinking about how sore I was anymore.

When I reached the edge of the water, I let the waves pass over my feet. It was freezing, but it felt nice. It made everything feel sharper. Clearer.

It was exactly what I needed after the whirlwind of a week I’d had.

I don’t know how long I stood there, letting the cold waves crash over my feet and shins, but it was long enough for the sun to rise completely, burning off the morning clouds and warming my face.

With a sigh, I backed away and retreated to a part of dry sand where I could sit.

I leaned back on my palms and basked in the sunlight.

It was then that I felt another emotion somewhere in the mix of the soreness and exhaustion.

Satisfaction.

I was proud of myself for making it through the first week back at elite.

And now that I'd survived this far, maybe I could survive one more week.

Maybe I could make it through the Elite Qualifier.

The rhythmic thud of footsteps on packed sand pulled me from my thoughts.

I figured it was just an early morning runner, so I didn't bother looking over.

Until a flash of white-blond hair caught the corner of my eye.

The sun was so bright I thought maybe I was seeing things at first. But then my heart rate picked up as recognition hit me.

Rove.

My brow furrowed.

What in the world was he doing here?

Was he following me?

I froze, realizing he was heading straight toward me and would inevitably pass by if he kept running this way.

His eyes lifted from the sand when he was about twenty feet away, and they met my bewildered expression. I watched the realization dawn on his face.