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Surprise, surprise.
I swallow the lump in my throat and wave to everyone else who actually gives a damn.
After picking up as many rose bouquets as I can, I skate to the edge and snap on my blade covers. Then I head to the waiting area.
“You were perfect, Tati!” Miss Price hugs me so hard I drop a few blooms. “Fucking perfect. I couldn’t find a single flaw in your performance.”
“I’m sure the judges will find something.” I look up at the board. “I bet they’re all waiting for ‘you know who’ to perform.”
“She’s not on the program anymore.” She loops her arm through mine. “I heard that her registration fee didn’t clear in time, and I haven’t seen her here today.”
WHAT?
Before I can ask where she heard that rumor, my scores begin appearing on the board.
10.0 10.0 10.0 10.0 10.0
A perfect score?
I stare at the numbers in utter disbelief.
While Miss Price squeals with joy, I slide a hand under my sleeve to pinch myself, to make sure this isn’t all a dream.
Tears fall past my cheeks, and my face appears on the Jumbotron.
As if on cue, the crowd gives me a second standing ovation, this one even louder than the first.
A cameraman and a reporter step in front of me, ready for the post-performance interview.
My voice is locked in my throat, though.
No matter how hard I try, I can’t get a single word to fall from my lips.
It’s probably best that everyone thinks I’m crying over this first-time achievement and not over the fact that it feels so damn incomplete.
My mother isn’t here to cheer me on or tell me that she’s proud.
My number one nemesis isn’t witnessing move one step closer to dethroning her from the top.
I have no friends to celebrate this moment with when the lights go out.
I might as well be dreaming after all…
ACT TWO & A HALF
BOY CHARMS GIRL
TATIANA
Back Then
A hundred miles away from Reno
Later that night
I’m standing in the arena’s deserted parking lot, fantasizing about the day I’ll have my own car so I won’t have to wait around after events. Tucking today’s medal under my sweatshirt, I vow to wait five more minutes before ordering an Uber.
With seconds to spare, Harlow’s Honda speeds through the lot, swerving in front of me.
