“When Dani’s score came up and I was still in first, honestly. I still can’t believe it,” I answer without really thinking about it. My ears are tuned to Emma beside me answering a different reporter’s questions.
“I’m disappointed, obviously,” she says, “but we came here with one mission: a team gold, and hopefully we got all the jitters out today. I’m looking forward to focusing on that.”
“What do you think your chances are of medaling?” another reporter asks me.
I blink back at him. “We’ll see. It’s gymnastics. Anything can happen. For now, I’m more focused on the team final.”
“Did you get any extra inspiration from Leo Adams being in the crowd?”
“I didn’t even see him until after floor. I honestly had no idea he was going to be here.”
“What are you most proud of today?”
“Oh, my beam, by far. It’s the first time I’ve really hit that routine the way I’ve wanted to since we designed it last year.”
“You designed it with your former coach, Pauline Baker, right?”
At the mention of our coach, my attention flicks back to Emma. She’s still talking to reporters. “I’m so proud of Audrey and Dani. They looked great out there. It’s obviously not the outcome I was hoping for, but again, the team final is tomorrow, and we’ve got to focus there.”
“Audrey?” the reporter prompts me.
“Right, sorry, I designed my beam routine with Pauline, but Coach Dorsey-Adams has been fantastic in these last couple of weeks, helping me perfect it before the Games.”
The reporter raises an eyebrow at my cool answer, but doesn’t push and moves on. “What do you have to say to everyone back home?”
Looking straight into the camera, I smile wide. “Thanks so much, everyone, for supporting us! We love you and are so proud to represent you here in Tokyo!”
Moments later, Mrs. Jackson is back and extricates all of us from the reporters with a saccharine smile, leading us away from the media pen and back toward the locker room.
“Will Brooke and Sarah be available to us?” one of the reporters has the fortitude to ask, and I cringe for him when Mrs. Jackson wheels around and glares before answering succinctly.
“No.”
chapter eighteen
“Are you sure?” Chelsea asks.
Brooke and Sarah have their bags packed, leos and workout clothes neatly folded into their luggage, toiletries gathered from the shelf in the bathroom we all share.
Sniffling, Brooke swipes impatiently at both her of cheeks. “What’s the point in staying? Neither of us qualified.”
“Still, it’s the Olympics,” I say, but the argument is weak. They took a risk, qualifying on their own, not leaving their fate up to the NGC, and it didn’t pay off. One missed routine, and that’s it. In their shoes, I’d probably be doing the same thing. Who the hell would want to stay here when your dreams aren’t going to come true? Why would you want a front-row seat to someone else winning the medal you coveted for yourself?
I glance sideways at the closed door just a few feet away. Emma’s in there. Giving her some space seemed like the right thing to do when we got back. Now, a few hours later, she’s still in there, and I’m getting worried.
“Guys, I know you’re trying to make us feel better, but, like, could you just … not?” Sarah asks, keeping her eyes down as she zips up her suitcase.
“Sure,” Chelsea says, and we move away into the common area, only to hear the door shutting as soon as we’re out of sight.
“Well, this sucks,” I say, flopping down on the couch.
Dani joins us from the room she and Chelsea share, ending a call on her phone and sitting down beside me.
Chelsea flips on the TV just in time to see Irina Kareva launching herself off the vault and twisting three times in the air before landing. She’s first woman ever to successfully compete a triple on vault, and damn if it doesn’t look seriously awesome.
“Jesus,” Dani says.
“Who the hell would do that to their ankles on purpose?” Chelsea asks.
