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Three
Since it was my Sundayoff, as well as the squad’s, I treated myself to a hot yoga class, a pedicure, and then biscuits and gravy at The Trap. They opened for brunch on the weekends, and I couldn’t pass that up.
“It’s on the house,” Susie said, coming out of the kitchen with a mimosa in one hand.
“You give me too many free drinks,” I said, wiping my mouth to make sure it wasn’t dripping with gravy.
“You deserve it,” she said, pulling out the chair and sitting down with a grunt. Her curly gray hair was pulled back, and the apron that covered her front was stained, but her hands and fingers were immaculate.
“How’s it going?” Susie asked. I both loved and hated it when she tried to mother me. I had great parents, but they had retired to Arizona, so I didn’t see them in person often enough. We did text and video chat nearly every day.
“It’s going,” I said. “Just stressful. The next month is just . . . a lot.” I had so many expectations on my shoulders. Yes, it was my squad that was going out on the floor, but I was on the mat with them every second, and I was the one the parents would come to if they weren’t happy. I’d already dealt with more than a few parents who thought that their precious baby should be front and center when the precious baby couldn’t even land a back handspring on a good day.
“You’re doing a good thing for those kids. I’ll never forget the good coaches I had when I was younger. They kept me on the right path and helped me learn the skills I needed to become an adult.”
My face felt hot, and I looked down at my plate. I really needed to learn how to take compliments. “Thank you, that’s really nice to hear.”
“Anything else going on with you?”
I shook my head. “Not really. Just focused on Nationals.” I shrugged one shoulder. I knew what she was asking, but I just didn’t have much in my life outside of cheer. I was a little obsessed.
“Be sure to make room in your life for things other than work.” She glanced up and caught Lou’s eye, who gave her a wink. Susie winked back and beamed. Their love was so pure.
“I’ll work on that,” I said, and sipped my mimosa. The fizzing champagne tickled my nose and I almost sneezed.
“Do you want some gossip?” There were two things that Susie was amazing at: cooking, and knowing everyone else’s business. I honestly didn’t know how she knew, unless she had actual spies all around Corsica. She knew more even than Lou.
“Yes, always. Hit me.” I leaned in and she told me about the latest scandal in town, involving two sisters, one man, and an ill-fated text message that let one sister know that her man was banging the other sister.
I devoured the juicy details as well as my entire plate of food, and went home full and satisfied.
The kitties needed some playtime, so I threw toys around and dangled some feathers in front of their faces before I got bored and started surfing the cheer blogs and social media pages.
I was always looking for new things to try or add to our routines. I couldn’t make too many changes from here on out, but a few tweaks could get us a few more tenths of a point, and that could make the difference between winning and losing.
My fingers, of their own volition, took me to Echo Rosenthal’s page. She posted regular videos and updates of her squad, and I found myself doing a deep dive and watching everything from the past two years like a weirdo.
More than an hour later, I had seen all the videos and started glancing through her personal pictures. There weren’t a ton because she taught English at Heartwood High, when she wasn’t coaching, and had probably scrubbed it before she got the job. Too bad I wasn’t a hacker who could find all those old pictures she thought she’d deleted. I still remembered some of those pictures, and I might even have been in some of them. We’d definitely taken more than a few together at camp.
I didn’t have any of those pictures left after a purge when I’d gotten a new phone. I almost wished that I did.
Spaghetti jumped on my lap and nudged my phone out of my hand, and I took that as a sign.
“Okay, fine. I’ll stop looking up the hot mean girl.” I didn’t know two better words to describe Echo. It was a crime that she’d only gotten hotter with age. When I’d first seen her walking through the door with her squad at Championships, I’d almost walked right onto the mat during the tumbling warm-up and caused a collision.
It had been ten years, but I’d know her anywhere. I’d know her in the pitch dark. Her hair was longer and darker now, shading toward auburn instead of the lighter more ginger shade she’d had when we’d first met. I hated how I knew the exact shade of her hair in the sun.
She’d also gained even more muscle than she’d had as a base and a tumbler at the age of seventeen. Echo was a fucking anatomy chart, each muscle group on obnoxious display.
Spaghetti meowed loudly, and I was getting the picture. My kitties were incredibly intuitive and knew when I needed to get out of my own head.
“Okay, baby, okay.” I gave Spaghetti skritches and then Meatball was waiting and it was a kitty petting line. My phone was still on the floor and it lit up with a message. It was from my mom. I thought about texting her back, but I called her instead.
“How’s my girl?” That was how she always answered the phone when I called her.
