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“Both of you can suck it,” I groan as I push myself off the bed and catch the missing phone before it falls to the floor and I crack my screen … again.
“I slept for three freaking hours?” I gasp as I hurry to my desk/makeup station and brush my still soaked hair.
“You’re welcome,” Leah says as she walks out.
“Thanks,” I grumble.
I settle on doing my makeup rather than my hair, knowing damn well I don’t have time to do both.
After I’ve added just alittletoo much highlighter to the tip of my nose I call it good, then I hurry downstairs to try to find something to eat, because now my stomach hurts for another reason. I’m starving.
“You in a better mood?” Cody asks, looking up from his tablet.
“No,” I answer as I toss my second-to-last cinnamon raisin bagel into the toaster.
* * *
“Hi, Rye!”Bria beams as I walk into the film room. She’s first person here, last to leave.Always.
“Hey,” I answer, dropping my bag on the floor and sitting in the blue, theater-style seat next to hers. “How was your summer?”
“Really good! Busy, but good.”
“How’s Taya?”
“She’s good …” She trails off. “I always feel like shit when we train together, but—”
“Not your fault,” I remind her.
“I know. It’s just like … sad now. I don’t know why she’s still training, anyway. She knows she’s done.”
“It’s all she’s ever done,” I remind her.
“I just don’t get it.” She shakes her head.
Taya landed wrong during her floor routine at a competition in February and dislocated her knee, tearing five ligaments in the process. She went home for a few weeks, and when she came back, she was like a zombie rising from the dead. She didn’t talk. Didn’t come to practice or team meetings or even film. There was a rumor that the coaches had kicked her off, but we all knew it wasn’t true. She was still using crutches when we left for the summer.
Medical disqualification is worse than death, but better than getting kicked off. We all knew she wouldn’t be cleared for a year, and as a junior, there’s no shot she’ll be allowed to compete.
“I do,” I answer as the room fills.
And I really do, because of Ellie and what happened to her,
“Welcome back, ladies.” Coach Tina claps her hands, and the room goes silent. “Big season this year. I’m expecting a lot out of each and every one of you.”
I take careful note of how she eyes the freshman. She did the same thing to all of us before we rode the bench our freshman year. We deserved it, but the way that look can get your hopes up for a full year seems unintentionally cruel.
“Practices start weights tomorrow and the staff will start your assessments to determine your pairings. You’ll all have your full semesters schedule in your emails immediately after that, your pairings will be emailed out after a full week.”
“Never one to waste words or time, that one.” I whisper.
Bria kicks my foot in the least subtle way possible as Coach continues discussing pairings.
We’ve always been paired just about everywhere other than skills. Our strengths are complete opposites, which should be a good thing, but Coach thinks that putting us together “enables us” to continue letting the other excel on opposite events.
She’s not wrong.
Bria scores first in vault and beam; I’ve got floor and bars. That’s just how it is. How it has been since we found out we were both going to Lincoln and started DM’ing before freshman year.
