Page 88 of Hidden

The music builds. A crescendo tightens low in my belly, spreading heat through my sternum. I leap into the series, the switch ring landing with a shock of pure rightness that travels up my legs like lightning. The turns flow seamlessly. One element melting into the next. The thought of him, of his steady voice, his unreadable eyes makes my pulse stumble for half a beat. I push harder, channeling the tension into the movement.

I’m at the final corner. Three steps, and the full twisting layout explodes from pure instinct, and when my feet strike the mat, solid, planted, arms high, the silence feels electric.

I wait three heartbeats.

Coach Pearce’s voice cuts through. “Again.”

I look down at my feet, annoyed that I have to do it again. Where did I mess up? I thought it was perfect. Maybe my movement in the air wasn’t right, maybe I landed a little to the left. But I do as the coach says and start it over again.

I run the routine four times. On the fourth, she lifts her hand. I stand breathless in the center, my skin flushed and damp, and my heart is still racing from more than the routine. She walks toward me slowly.

“The floor piece is ready,” she says. Her eyes hold mine. “That’s as good as I’ve seen it. Tomorrow, with the lights and the crowd, it’ll be better. Your beam has been flawless. You could win this.” Coach smiles and I feel so happy knowing I can win if I focus.

I feel warm and validated. Coach walks away and I remain rooted, my chest tight with a different kind of anticipation.

Juno appears, seizing my arms, her joy bright and fierce. “She said you could win this now; we all need to do our best to win.”

I smile, but my mind is already drifting toward tomorrow’s stands. We can do this as a team, we can win.

“Are we going to Grounds, I need a coffee,” I ask, which makes her laugh. She turns to the girls and tells them we’re going to Grounds.

“Maybe someone else will be there,” she winks at me, and walks away. I know who she means but I’m not saying anything. Because she will try to do anything to set us up together, but I want Miles to want me because he wants it, not because my friends are pushing it.

***

Grounds buzzes with evening energy. We claim the corner table like always. Our coffees arrive, and some sandwiches as we all need to get some energy into us. Coach really made us work tonight, and I have nothing left in me.

Maya scribbles in her notebook. Cara nods as Juno hasn’t stopped talking since we left practice.

“That leap series,” she says, her eyes sparkling. “When you hit the switch ring and just kept going… that’s the moment.”

I nod, but my thoughts circle back to Miles, how his suggestion unlocked that flow. How his presence lingers in my routines now because he’s the one who opened that door for me.

I look over at the door when it opens, hoping its Miles, but it’s not.

“Lileah, over here.” I wave to her and Trixie to come join us.

Lileah slides in beside me. “Are you guys ready? We are all coming, it will be fun.”

The casual mention of we, including Miles, sends a flutter through my stomach I try to ignore, but I have to stop myself from smiling at the thought of him being there.

I eat my food because I can feel myself getting a little light-headed and the conversation around me moves to a class Cara and Lileah are both in.

Leaning back in my seat, my hands are wrapped around my coffee, and Lileah’s gaze lands on me. I can already tell she’s going to ask something I don’t want to be answering. “Sadie, I heard that you’re seeing someone.”

Heat rises up my neck; I look at Juno who’s smiling at me. She’s going to be the pain in my life, but I know she’s going to be in my life a long time after college is finished.

“There’s someone. But they’re… hard to read,” I tell her.

“Hard to read how?” Lileah asks. One thing I’ve noticed is that Lileah does all the talking. Trixie doesn’t talk, and I don’t ask why, because it’s not my business.

“I leave every conversation feeling like I understand less than when I started.” My voice softens. “Like I’m always reaching for something just beneath the surface. Why are men like that?”

Juno makes a small, knowing sound. “Miles is a closed book, isn’t he.”

“It’s not Miles,” I say quickly… too quickly. The denial burns on my tongue, it’s a half-lie, and half-protection. My heart kicks against my ribs.

The table laughs, because they all know it’s Miles. I can’t even hide how I’m crushing on his,