Page 144 of Salto

I heard her laugh softly. "Vanta doesn't keep athletes who can't keep up."

It was then I turned around, feeling something akin to rage start boiling in my blood.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

"Maybe I don’t,” she said, shrugging, walking past me now, and somehow taking all the power of the conversation with her. I usually didn’t let things like this get to me. Girls could be really mean. I knew that. I had my fair share of girl drama in my life. But Sloane⁠—

She’d been a friend once, so she knew all my weaknesses and what buttons to press. I honestly didn’t realize she was capable of being so cruel.

"I just hope if they do let you compete—" she leaned in as our shoulders brushed. “They don’t regret it."

Then she walked away, Eva trailing after her.

I stared after them while the other girls continued getting ready around me, feeling like I'd just been slapped across the face.

My fingers tightened around my water bottle.

I didn’t want to crumble at her petty attempt to rattle me.

But a small part of me couldn't help wondering if she'd end up being right.

CHAPTER 51

During warmups, my mind was far away. I was still thinking about what Sloane had said to me in the locker room when Rove and Vanta came back out onto the floor from their meeting.

The pit in my stomach had only grown. I was now being eaten alive with all the made-up scenarios of their conversation, and Sloane's comments were the perfect, extremely flammable fuel doused over the already burning fire of my presumptions.

My heart was racing like I'd run three miles when Rove came around to the side of the floor I was on. The moment he said my name, it jumped into my stomach.

“Walk with me, Red.”

The fear that shot into my blood was unlike any other fear I'd ever felt.

No. Not now, I thought. Don't let this end now.

I wasn't usually one to beg.

But I would get on my knees.

I'd crawl through fire.

Please.

Despite my unhinged thoughts, I remained composed and stepped off the floor to follow him to an area by the windows filled with mats and weights.

“What's up?” I asked when he stopped, leaned against one of the mats, and crossed his arms over his chest. He wore a deep olive-green sweatsuit that morning, and his eyes were a shocking green color.

“I need you not to freak out⁠—”

“He's pulling me from Nationals, isn't he?” I whispered, jumping immediately to the worst-case scenario.

He shook his head. “No, that's not it.”

My heart stopped and started again in a matter of three seconds.

I looked down, shocked by the tears that suddenly stung the corners of my eyes.

“Hey—” He reached out to me, but then it was like he realized we weren't alone, and his hand dropped back down to his side. “Take a breath, Red.”