Page 92 of Hidden

“Miles, one night isn’t going to change anything. Have you looked in the mirror lately, you look like shit.”

“Thanks, and once we get there, I’ll put the phones away for a bit,” I reply, and the subject is dropped. They know how much it’s starting to mess with my head now, until this ends, I’m not stopping.

***

The athletics center is louder than I expected.

Not so much the crowd, the crowd is exactly what Sadie described, parents and the occasional faculty member, nothing remarkable. But the space itself feels different. The high ceiling catches every sound and sends it rolling back across the arena. Every cheer, every landing, every breath hangs in the air, charged with the energy of people watching something that matters.

We find seats in the stands. Lileah immediately gets the best seats and rearranges everyone accordingly, which takes two minutes and nobody argues with her because when she is like this, we know to leave her alone. Plus, I don’t have the energy to say anything to her.

I scan the floor and find her immediately.

Sadie is with her team at the far end, the five of them in matching warm-up jackets, stretching, talking with the easy pre-competition focus of people who have done this long enough to know how to carry the nerves without being carried by them. She's doing something with her arms, a slow arc, working through a range of motion and even in a warm-up movement the quality of it is different from the people around her.

I didn’t know much about gymnastics until her, but then I watched every Olympics to see what it takes to be the best. I probably know this sport as well as hockey.

She turns and sees us.

Something moves through her expression; she’s surprise that we really came. I have to admit I wasn't sure about coming, but then Lileah has a way of getting her way when she wants. Then there was something warmer underneath it, and she crosses the floor toward the stands. She stops below us, looking up.

"You came," she says.

"I did." I hold her gaze. "Lileah made me."

Lileah, from two seats over: "I absolutely did."

She looks at me for one beat longer then she smiles. "I'm glad you're here," she says. Then she goes back to her team.

Mason says nothing, but I feel him staring at me. I’m both shocked and surprised he doesn't make a comment.

***

The floor routine goes last in the rotation.

I watch her mount the competition floor and take her position. I’ve seen her do this in practice, but she doesn’t know I’ve been watching her at practice, no one knows.

Sadie’s name is announced, and then the music starts.

Debussy. The arrangement I suggested, slowed down for timing. On paper, it shouldn't work in a gymnastics arena. But as the opening notes spread through the stands, every conversation fades, and the whole room seems to lean toward the floor.

She moves.

I've watched her on the second-floor library window table, through a feed, across a courtyard, and at two parties. I've watched her more than she knows and, in more ways, than she'd be comfortable with. But this, this is different. This is Sadie Elliot with nowhere to hide and nothing between her and the thing she does better than anything else.

The opening tumbling pass lands clean. Both feet. Her weight is perfectly distributed. She doesn't pause to register it, already moving, already into the next sequence. The routine pulls her forward the way good music pulls you through a song without letting you stop.

Then the middle section hits.

The music softens, and she softens with it. Not the difficulty of the routine, but the feeling. Something changes in the way she moves. The gymnastics disappears, leaving only fluid, effortless motion, each movement flows naturally into the next. Her arms trace the melody. Her weight shifts with quiet control. Her spine lengthens.

She hits the leap series and the switch ring lands with an impact I feel from the stands; it’s executed exactly as it was meant to be. The turns flow, they are clean, connected, with no catches.

Then she comes to the final corner.

Three steps. The full twisting layout launches and there's a half-second where the gym holds its breath and then her feet find the floor and she sticks it. Both feet. Arms up. Still.

The gym breaks into noise.