It won’t be easy, but we can do it, and I can’t wait to get out there. I’m going to rock bars and beam and make that deficit into a lead.
“Just like we’ve been doing in training,” I say to Dani and Emma as we stand in a semicircle facing the bars. Russia’s Lada Stepanova is halfway through her routine, but I’m barely seeing it. “Just like in training.”
“Like in training,” Emma repeats, nodding her head.
Stepanova releases into a full-in dismount, landing with just a tiny hop forward, and I turn to Dani. “Get us going.”
“Aye, aye, Cap,” she says, shooting me a small salute, streaking chalk on her forehead.
When she steps up onto the podium, the thundersticks pick up again, getting louder and louder as she waits to go up.
I’m glad we didn’t watch it, but whatever Gibby said in that interview must have been pretty terrible to get everyone—our competitors and their fans—on our side.
“Just like always, Dani,” Chelsea calls out to her, but I’m sure the sound is swallowed up by the time it gets to Dani on the podium.
The noise doesn’t rattle her at all, and the dumb fluke from qualifications was just that. Her routine is solid, and the crowd roars even louder when she lands, sticking the double layout cold and then waving to them as she jogs off the podium.
A 14.8 for Dani and I can feel our deficit shrinking.
Erika Sheludenko is next for Russia, her dirty-blonde curls pulled back in a bun, but she smiles at the judges before she runs up to the springboard, launching herself up to the high bar and swinging aggressively through her routine. She’s a taller gymnast, like me, and her skills look almost wild, but her form is impeccable, just like the rest of her teammates on this event. Thirty seconds of gorgeous gymnastics later, she’s dismounting into a full-in—two flips, the first with a twist—and she’s done with just a small step on the landing.
Another routine, another hit for Russia.
“Okay, c’mon, Emma,” Janet says, as they head up to the podium to chalk the bars, waiting for Sheludenko’s score.
It’s a 15.1.
“Bring it, Em!” Dani calls to her right before the green light goes on, and Emma shoots us a tight smile before she straightens her shoulders and salutes the judges.
I can tell right away something’s off. As she goes to brace her toes on the low bar for a transition up to the high, her foot slips and her hands release way too early. She falls to the mat between the bars.
“Shit!” Chelsea curses, loud enough for the cameras to pick up as Janet leaps onto the podium to check on Emma. My heart is pounding, but I have to calm down. Emma fell, which means we’re going to need a big number from me to make up for it.Calm down, Audrey.A deep breath in and out helps me settle, and I hope Emma can find the same calm in the next few seconds so she can get back up there.
“I’m fine,” she says, standing up and shaking her head. She looks a little dazed, but not injured. “I’m fine,” she says again, moving to the chalk bowl and reapplying some to her hands before she comes back to the bars to start over.
“Take a deep breath,” Janet says.
Emma inhales and exhales and then nods. She’s okay.
Janet retreats off the podium, and Emma salutes again, starting one more time. Everything is better now—her transitions are solid, pirouettes maybe a touch late, but that’s picky. She starts to build up for her dismount, a giant into a pirouette and then a release into a double layout, but her timing’s off, and she trips forward to her knees when she lands.
A second fall.
Two full points.
“Fuck,” I mutter, and since there’s a camera right beside us it definitely picked it up.
I shake out my wrists and walk to the stairs. Emma’s already down them, and I can see her face. Her red hair is bright against her pale skin—almost translucent in shock right now. I can’t even give her a fist bump or a word of encouragement because I’m pretty sure she didn’t even see me as she walked past me. Two falls. Two full points.
I manage not to react at all when Emma’s 12.0 pops up on the screen for her routine as Irina Kareva salutes and mounts the bars. It defies the laws of biology and physics that she’s powerful enough to do a triple on vault, but swings bars like she’s lighter than air. And I grimace when she does. Her score pops up, a massive 15.3.
Janet is chalking the bars for me, and I go to the chalk bowl to make sure my grips are perfect. I need to hit this. I’m going to hit this. I hit the routine at trials. I hit it in Coronado. I hit it yesterday. I can hit it now. For the team, because we need it.
A deep breath and then a leap up into the air to start my momentum onto the low bar gets me swinging. I’m into a handstand and then down beneath the bar, body folded in half, legs straddled and toes perfectly pointed before I release up and around to the high bar, turning halfway and catching smoothly, and up into a handstand again, a half turn and a release and catch before flipping right back down to the low bar. And then, making it look easy, I’m straight back up to the high bar, a full pirouette landing at twelve o’clock and letting the judges see it, admire it longingly so they can’t find one deduction on it, before I swing down, release into one, two, three twists, land, and stick!
“Wow!” I’m pretty sure I say it out loud before I remind myself to salute the judges.
I make it down off the podium, and the girls are waiting there for me with fists held out for bumping.
