Then Sun Luli, who doesn’t understand a word of English, smiles brightly from the end of the line and makes a teasing kissing noise that makes us all burst into giggles.
The tension is broken, and as the IOF official walks out of the tunnel to start the competition, we all settle back into line and focus.
We begin to move, following the volunteer with theGROUP1 sign.
That’s us.
Six of the best gymnasts in the world.
Four rotations.
Three medals.
“Let’s do this.”
We march out to vault, and the déjà vu is nearly overwhelming. I look down at my long-sleeved leo. It’s not black like yesterday. It’s blue and metallic with sparkles up and down both sleeves. It’s a new day and a new chance.
My eyes flicker over the stands as we move up onto the podium to be announced to the crowd. Emma is across the arena behind the bars, an American flag wrapped around her shoulders as she bops her head up and down to the pulsating beats of the music pumping through the sound system. Mrs. Jackson stands beside her, a perfectly practiced and indulgent smile on her face. Leo and Ben are at either end of the row, clearly fending off the curious onlookers with their arms crossed over their chests and their mouths set in stern lines. I have no idea where my parents are sitting, but just knowing they’re in the arena is enough.
The announcer runs through our names and, like yesterday, Dani gets a huge response from the crowd, as does Irina, but then so do I. Maybe something about finishing fourth has made our team underdogs somehow? Like losing, plus everything we’ve been through, somehow made us more likable. Or maybe they’re super excited that Japan edged us for the bronze. No matter what it is, I’ll take whatever support I can get.
As the judges sit, we sprint down the vault runway to get in our warm-ups. The air-conditioning in the arena is unrelenting, and we have to keep moving to stay warm enough to compete. I do a full twist in my final warm-up and then jump down from the podium to wait my turn. I’m up third this rotation, and Dani’s fifth, but unless disaster strikes, I’m going to be dead last as we head to bars. Every single girl in the rotation with me has an Amanar—at least—and here I am with my bullshit baby vault. But I’m here, and that means I have a shot.
Erika Sheludenko is first up, and when she takes off down the run, Irina yells out,“Davai! Davai!”
Her form isn’t the greatest, but it’s still an Amanar, and when she lands, Irina yells,“Stoi!”telling her to stick her landing, which she does. Impressive. It’s so impressive that I can’t help myself and hold up a fist for her to bump when she walks by me. She tilts her head in confusion for a second, but then shrugs and knocks her hand against mine. Dani follows suit, and Erika smiles, this time fist-bumping with a little more enthusiasm.
And you know what, why the hell not? These girls supported us with their teal makeup and armbands and hair ties. We have far more in common than not. If they can put aside the competition to stand for something that we all believe in, maybe we can support one another here and now, doing the thing we all love the most.
Next up is Sun Luli. She’s tiny, and her Amanar is clean and stuck too! It’s not quite as high or far as most, as her smaller stature gives her a disadvantage in generating enough power toreallyfly. Still, the score that pops up—a 14.7—is a good one, especially since vault isn’t her specialty. I can’t help it again. I’m right by the stairs, so I offer up my fist again, and she bumps it with a grin. When I turn to head to the end of the vault run, Erika and Irina are congratulating her too.
I’m next, with Ana-Maria Popescu right behind me.
I get the green light from the judges and raise one arm to salute them, and then I’m headed down the run for the last vault I’ll ever do—for real this time.
A roundoff, back handspring onto the vault, and I’m up. One and a half twists later, I open up, land, and don’t move an inch.
Smiling, I raise my arms in the air and then to the judges before clapping my hands and jumping down from the podium. Chelsea’s there to hug me first, with Janet nodding in approval.
Then Erika and Sun Luli are walking to me with their fists raised and smiles on their faces. I give them each a fist bump before I pull at my wrist guards to get ready for bars.
My score comes up, a 14.3. “Yes!” I pump my fist a bit, but then reel it in as I focus on wrapping my wrists.
It’s funny, during the team final, when Emma pulled in a 14.3, that was considered a rough vault and the start of the collapse that lost us a medal. Now here I am celebrating the exact same score, a score that might put me on the path toward the medal she was supposed to win. Sports are super weird.
Ana-Maria vaults next, an Amanar, maybe the sloppiest of them so far, but when she lands, her feet don’t move at all. Another stick! That’s four in a row. The crowd is rumbling in excitement, but you can tell they don’t know quite what to make of it. Sticks are rare things in gymnastics nowadays with how insanely difficult the sport has become. Still, so far, it’s pretty cool.
“Come on, Dani! You got this!” I yell from my seat where I’m wrapping my wrists, but make sure to extend my hand when Ana-Maria moves toward her own bag on the chairs. She nods to me firmly before we knock knuckles.
Dani’s vault is high and clean and powerful. That’s the best one yet, and she sticks it too! Holy crap. The crowd erupts, and so do I, standing and applauding with a roll of tape still hanging from my wrist. I jog to the stairs, where she’s being congratulated by the other girls, and pull her into a hug.
“That was awesome!”
She smiles, her eyes wide with joy. “That was the best I’ve ever done.”
The judges seem to agree, since it’s the best score she’s ever gotten too. I grab her by the shoulders and turn her to face the scoreboard, where a 15.4 is lit up beside her name.
“Whoa.”
