“Are you …” Chelsea begins, but Emma shakes her head.
“I’m fine,” she says, sharply, the edge of her smile hardening just a little.
“Okay,” I say as she finally sits. I make eye contact with Dani and Chelsea, and we silently agree to just let her be.
“So,” Emma says, nodding to the TV. “Did Kareva land that vault?”
“Yep,” Dani says, shaking her head, “and it looks good. Way too good.”
“Ladies,” Mrs. Jackson says, flying into the room, her eyes glued to her phone, “has Emma emerged from her—oh.” She looks up, seeing Emma, who sends her an uncomfortable wave.
“Emma, glad to see you up and about,” Janet says from behind Mrs. Jackson, giving the other woman a sidelong glance.
“We’re watching the rest of quals,” I say, trying to divert their attention.
“Good, good,” Mrs. Jackson says, still eyeing Emma carefully. “I wanted to say I thought your teal makeup was an excellent choice today, and the media was clamoring for a comment. It’s safe to tell them that it’s for sexual assault awareness and that you’re united as a team behind that cause?”
“Of course,” I say and then smile at Dani.
“Excellent,” she says, her smile blooming large as her eyes travel over the group of us. “Now, I have some regrettable news.”
“What?” I ask, not sure if I really want to know.
“Christopher Gibson gave an interview, and it’s …” She trails off, shaking her head. “It’s not good. I have it here on my phone if you’d like to watch it.” She swipes at her screen, clearly getting ready to pull it up for us.
“Wait.” I hold up my hand. “Do we really want to watch that?”
“Shouldn’t we know what he’s saying?” Emma asks.
“It’s probably all bullshit anyway,” Chelsea says.
“Manipulative bullshit,” Dani adds.
“Exactly,” I agree. “Manipulative bullshit that we do not need in our heads before team finals.”
“So we don’t watch it?” Emma asks, looking to me.
Chelsea and Dani’s eyes follow hers, and I look up at Mrs. Jackson and Janet, shaking my head. “We don’t watch it, and if anyone asks us about it, we say that we haven’t seen it and that we don’t want to know what he said. Then tomorrow, we do the teal eye makeup again like today, with our black leotards, in protest.” I pop up out of my seat and race back into our room, finding the leo in question. “This one.”
I hold up a long-sleeved black leotard with a glittery sheen to the fabric and a clear crystal outline of an American flag on the left arm. It might be the most sedate of the set we were given way back at the training center, but we don’t need too much embellishment and glitz because tomorrow we’re going to conquer the world.
When I wake up the next morning, Emma is staring right at me. “Hey.”
“Hey, guess what?” she asks, smiling. The smile is fake, but I’ll ignore it for now. Emma’s a pro, and if ignoring what happened is what’s going to help her get through the next few days, I’m going to support her.
“What?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“Today we’re going to be gold medalists.”
“Damn straight we are.”
Makeup and leos take a little longer than usual because we want to make sure it’s all perfect. The four of us have our hair pulled back in buns, and when we’re done, Dani pulls out a can of spray glitter from her bag.
“It’s gold,” she says, smiling widely.
“Yeah, that’s happening,” I say, holding out my hand. “Someone grab a visor out of my kit. Our hair is going to shine gold in that arena today.”
An hour later, we emerge, shimmering glitter in our hair, glossy lips, sharp winged eyeliner, and the teal shadow that’s quickly becoming our signature.
