Page 85 of Salto

He looked over his shoulder to check his blind spot, then changed lanes. “Now, tell me what’s your number today?”

The number took me away from thinking about Rove as a child and to the pain in my body.

What was my pain today? I took a second to take inventory of all the places that hurt. But there weren't many. I felt good.

“One,” I said to him.

“So it’s our lucky day.”

I gave a weak smile. “I hope so.”

“You’ll do great, Red.”

“You think so?”

His brow furrowed slightly. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I think so?”

I picked at a loose thread on my competition jacket.

“I don't know. Sometimes I can't tell if you're...” I searched for the right word. “Pleased with me or not.”

His eyes widened, and then he let out a surprised laugh. “Pleased with you?”

I immediately regretted saying the words out loud. Why did I say it that way?

“Forget it.” I flushed, realizing how weird that sounded only after the fact.

“No.” Another laugh escaped him, and he shook his head. “Do I not tell you enough in the gym when you're doing well?”

“You tell me when I’ve done something correctly.”

“Because that's my job.”

“Yeah, but it’s usually a one-word answer followed by ‘again’.”

He sighed. “Red.” He glanced over at me, his expression softening a bit. “I'm pleased with you.”

A wave of relief passed through me. I hadn’t realized how much I needed the validation until that moment.

"If I didn't believe in you, I wouldn't be driving two hours to a qualifier with you.” His fingers tightened slightly on the steering wheel.

“Okay, good.”

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Glad we cleared that up.”

Then he turned his attention back to the road, and I turned to look out the window, reaching up to rest my chin on my fist.

I fought a smile the rest of the drive.

CHAPTER 32

The arena felt different from the other meets I was used to.

The place hummed with a kind of charged energy that made everything feel bigger than it was. Definitely more intense than NCAA.

Coaches stood in tight clusters along the edges of the floor with clipboards tucked under their arms, judges shuffled stacks of paperwork across long tables, and athletes in matching warm-ups stretched along the sidelines while chalk dust drifted faintly through the air.

Everywhere I looked, there were elite girls who seemed younger and far more confident than I felt at that moment.