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Before I knew it, I was dancing a little too, unable to resist the beat pulsing through the restaurant.

By the second verse, every trace of nerves had disappeared. The crowd started clapping along, and when the chorus came around again, I held the microphone toward them. Half the restaurant sang along with me.

I committed completely.

Because I'd never believed in doing anything halfway.

It was go big or go home in my world.

When the song ended, the restaurant erupted into applause.

And when I looked back at our table again…

Rove was still smiling.

CHAPTER 47

Nationals were a month away, and I was one step closer to making the National Team. I wanted it so badly.

Over the next few weeks, I worked myself harder than ever. With Nationals Camp just a few days before Nationals, I wanted all my skills to feel solid before we got there.

I felt more confident after the U.S Classic, and even Vanta seemed to be getting used to the idea of me sticking around.

At one point during one of my floor routines, he said, “Keep that up, Scarlet, and you’ll be a step closer to getting a medal around your neck.”

“Which one, Coach?” I asked, never having had the guts to try and talk with him the way I did Rove. But it slipped out, and he raised a brow.

“Definitely not gold. But maybe bronze.”

I fought a smile, knowing that was a lot coming from him.

Hana had stopped correcting me so much on my dance passes too. I was getting head nods now, affirmative ones.

And bars with Rove…it was the most anticipated part of my practice. I’d gotten my Tkatchev solid, and the connections were becoming seamless between my low and high bar. My twisting double back dismount was starting to become a stuck landing every time. And to say it felt good was an understatement.

Rove clapped his hands multiple times that week after my routine. “That’s my girl,” he said at one point, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Good?” I asked breathlessly.

“Flawless," he said, his eyes sparkling. It was like he'd felt it himself. Like he'd experienced the rush right alongside me.

I was feeling unstoppable.

But I should've known it wouldn't last.

After weeks of manageable pain, I should've recognized the quiet for what it was.

The calm before the storm.

Two weeks before Nationals, everything changed.

I started bleeding.

Whether it was the stress, the training, or just my body doing whatever it wanted, I didn't know.

But the pain was grueling.

I'd been ignoring it all morning, gritting my teeth between routines because, of course, I was in denial.