Page 79 of Salto

I hated that he had to help me up. I hated that my body was betraying me and that I couldn’t just be freaking normal for once.

“Keep practicing,” Rove instructed the other girls.

I could feel eyes on me, but I was in too much pain to care.

The noise of practice faded as we started down the hallway with the row of offices. He pushed open the door to the same room Vanta had met with me in at the tryout camp, then shut the door behind us with a quiet click.

“Sit,” he said, gesturing toward one of the chairs in the room.

I lowered myself into it carefully. The pain wasn’t crippling anymore, but everything still ached.

Rove stayed standing for a moment, arms folded across his chest as he looked at me.

“You peeled off the bar.”

I couldn't meet his eyes.

“I lost my grip.”

“That wasn’t a grip issue.”

When I didn’t respond, he bent down in front of me, resting his arms on his knees.

“Look at me,” he demanded.

I looked up, hating that there were unshed tears in my eyes.

Rove’s gaze didn’t move from my face.

“Something’s wrong.”

It wasn’t a question.

My hand had drifted to my lower back again without me realizing it.

“It’s nothing,” I said quietly.

“You promised you’d communicate with me,” he said, his jaw clenching.

“It’s just cramps.” The words felt stupid the second they left my mouth.

“Red,” he said more firmly.

When I didn’t respond again, he let out a sigh, and his features softened.

“I’m not going to give up on you just because you have a day where you need to go slower,” he said, quieter now. “If you need to stretch for an entire practice, we’ll stretch. If all you’ve got in you is some light conditioning, then that’s what we’ll do. But if you don’t tell me where you’re at pain-wise, I can’t help you.”

“I thought the whole point of learning these exercises was to be able to work through the pain.”

“They’re there to help you. But sometimes pain can’t be worked through.” He held my gaze. “There’s a balance, Red. That’s why you have to be honest with me. Is it pain that can be managed with the techniques, or is it pain that pushes past them?”

I’d spent years trying to convince everyone around me that I was fine. And now he just wanted me to simply admit when I wasn’t?

“We need to find a way for you to let me know what your pain levels are. I don’t need specific details about your cycle,” he continued. “That’s not my business. But I do need to know how much pain you’re in so I can adjust your training.”

Rove stood, crossed to the desk, and grabbed the notepad and pen resting on top.

“Alright,” he said, drawing something on the paper.