Page 86 of Salto

The nerves had me feeling extra jumpy, and I tried desperately to ground myself, but my veins were already pumping with adrenaline.

A few weeks ago, this had all been theoretical. But now I was actually here, standing on the competition floor again, and the reality of it made me feel a little lightheaded. This was my only chance to qualify, or Vanta would be kicking me out.

I flexed my fingers and shifted my weight from one foot to the other, trying to release some of the restless energy building in my body.

I wasn't about to let Vanta's doubts become reality.

I'd uprooted my entire life for this. Left UCLA. Burdened my family. Risked everything on one chance.

I wasn't walking away empty-handed.

“You’re fidgeting,” Rove said, giving me a look.

“I’m not fidgeting,” I forced myself to stand still.

“You were,” he replied calmly.

He stood with his arms folded across his chest, his eyes moving slowly across the arena as if he were quietly analyzing everything happening around us. Nothing about his posture suggested nerves.

“Relax,” he said after a moment. “What’s your number?”

“One.”

My heart was beating, as if I’d already sprinted through a full floor routine.

“Just do what you’ve been doing in practice,” he continued, finally glancing down at me. “Nothing new today.”

It wasn’t exactly a motivational speech, but something about the steadiness in his voice helped me feel less panicked.

My first event was vault. It was already a short event, and it passed in a strange blur.

I raised my arm to salute the judges, and my body slipped into the rhythm of the routine almost automatically. I did my Yurchenko double pike, and only took one step at the end.

A wave of relief rushed through my chest so suddenly it almost made me laugh.

I spun toward Rove, who was waiting for me at the edge of the mat. Our hands collided in a double high five, my grin impossible to hide.

“Nice, Red,” he said, giving me a satisfied smile.

When the judge showed my score, it was a pretty decent start. It would be enough to get me on the board.

Floor was my next event, and I was grateful that the order was in my favor. Because floor took so much of my energy, it was better to get it out of the way earlier on.

Most of my nervous energy had been expended on vault, so when my floor routine music started, I was more focused.

The violin instrumental lit something in my soul, and I performed my guts out. I hadn't competed this intensely in all my time during NCAA. So much was riding on this one moment, and I made sure to perform like it was my last shot. Because it was.

When the music stopped and I hit my ending pose, I was panting for air. My heart was racing, my blood thrumming through my veins. I could feel the burn in my throat and the ache in my lower back and abdomen. I’d just given it my absolute all.

Rove high-fived me again as I stepped off the floor.

“That was incredible.”

His eyes were bright as he said it, like he was experiencing the thrill of the moment as much as I was.

My floor score landed me a little higher on the board, and I was starting to feel my confidence spike. Maybe I really could do this.

But beam had a way of humbling anyone who got too comfortable.