“Emma—”
“No. Fuck you!”
She’s out the door before I can respond, slamming it behind her, but I have no idea what I would have said and no idea what just happened, really.
We’ve never fought like that.
Not ever.
It’s at least partly my fault. I can own that. I took out my frustrations about Leo and about, well, everything, on her, but I’m not totally to blame. Some of what I said was legit, especially the stuff about Dani.
Footsteps in the hallway draw me out of my thoughts. Dani and Chelsea are headed to their room at the end of the hallway, their voices are low. I can’t make out what they’re saying, but their heads are together, and they’re both laughing softly.
“Hey, Rey,” Dani says, and Chelsea smiles.
“Hey,” I call back as they disappear into their room.
My anger at Emma fades as it all clicks into place for me. That’s the first word I’ve actually saidtoDani in the day she’s been back. Even with everything that’s happened, I haven’t really thought a ton about that night after trials. And then it hits me—Dani hasn’t told me her side of the story, like Emma said, but I haven’t told her I believe her or that I support her or anything like that.
I’m gonna make sure I talk to her tomorrow.
It’s seriously, literally, the least I can do.
chapter eleven
Ihate vault. I hate it with every fiber of my being. I hate that less than a second of gymnastics determines a quarter of my all-around score. I hate that my back can’t handle more than a one and a half twist. I hate that the most difficult skill I’m physically capable of has a blind landing and thus is so much harder to stick than the doubles other girls seem to crank out with ease.
I especially hate that when Emma does her two and a half vault, her difficulty level is so far ahead of mine that I don’t stand a chance.
“I hate vault,” I grumble, and Chelsea snorts beside me, catching her breath after she executed a near perfect two and a half.
“I hate bars,” she says, but it’s not the same thing. Her skills on bars four years ago were good enough to keep her in the all-around running. She even made an uneven bars final a few years before that at worlds.
Her weakness on bars was a speed bump.
My weakness on vault is a roadblock.
And Emma’s strength on vault is annoying as all hell.
She flies past us and launches into a near-perfect two and a half, sticking and saluting before moving off to the side with Sierra and Jaime.
“Here we go, Dani, let’s see it!” Janet calls with a clap of her hands from beside the vault as Dani sets herself down at the end of the run.
“Yeah, Dani, don’t fuck up,” Jaime sings under her breath. Sierra smirks, and Jaime practically glows at her leader’s approval.
Janet’s too far away to hear it, but Dani definitely did. She takes a hesitant step before stuttering a bit. Then, shaking her head, she resets and goes. Twelve strides take her to the vault and into a roundoff, back handspring, then a high and tight two and a half twist off, nearly stuck with just a shuffle of her feet on landing. She salutes straight ahead and then turns toward Emma, Jaime, and Sierra and salutes in their direction too. If Janet notices that Dani’s middle fingers, and no others, are raised, she doesn’t say anything about it.
My regret at not defending her prickles a little sharper.
“Nice vault.” I hold out a fist for her to bump as she walks over to me and Chelsea. She hesitates and glances to Chelsea in clear surprise, but then knocks her chalky fist against mine.
“Thanks,” Dani says, like she’s not sure of my sincerity. I don’t blame her.
“I especially liked the salute,” I say. Chelsea covers her laugh with a cough.
Dani grins at that, but it fades just as fast. “I wasn’t sure if you would.”
“I do,” I cut in. I’ve been a crappy teammate and I don’t want to make it even worse by making her think that’s her fault. “Listen, I believe you, and I’m sorry for not saying that sooner.”
