Execution (Off Balance 2)

I stood there, motionless and stunned, stone-faced with my jaw hanging open. Kova said it wasn't bad, but it was better than good because I was now in first place, again, not only helping me, but helping my team's overall score as well. Happiness spread through my chest, warmth filling me with such satisfaction I could barely see straight. I grinned from ear to ear and looked for Kova, who gave me a satisfied nod with a deep dip of his chin, then set his focus back on Sarah.

Madeline made a beeline for me. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and pulled me into a bear hug, praising me on my form and score.

My heart was about near ready to burst. This was going better than I had expected. I needed a minimum score to test elite, and so far, I was on the right track. And through it all, I stayed relatively calm thanks to Kova. Deep down I knew he had more to do with my composed attitude than I was giving him credit for.

Looking up toward the spectators, I finally caved and searched for my parents but soon stopped. The meet was packed, not an empty seat, and finding them would be like looking for a needle in a haystack.

Floor was next.

Kova placed a hand on my shoulder as we walked side by side. "I know you want to take less steps in your tumbling passes, but you need to make sure that you use the length of the floor."

"I know."

It was true—if I didn’t extend my body and use up the floor, not only would it throw off my routine, but it would earn me a deduction. The thing was, I got so much height as it was that I didn't want to step out of bounds either.

"Your perception will be off since we are on podium. Everything is going to be bouncier and harder to absorb the landing."

I nodded quickly, then walked onto floor. I jumped a few times, feeling the spring beneath my feet. It was much spongier, but I was confident I had it under control.

Once the judges gave me the okay, I stepped onto the royal blue carpeted floor and took my stance.

Chapter Forty-Two

I held my position while I listened for the faint que of music to begin.

While I excelled in two other events, I loved floor. It was my absolute favorite. A classical melody reverberated around the room. I began counting in my head, flowing freely and softly as a feather into each skill that took me into the corner for my first tumbling pass. Bringing my arms down gently, I took a deep breath and exhaled as I eyed the corner at the opposite end of the floor.

Gearing up for the first of four tumbling passes, I took fewer steps and hurdled into a round-off, extending my back handspring, and threw a double layout…and controlled the landing without taking a step back.

I smiled from ear to ear, knowing I executed my first pass well and spun around, leaping through the air into a switch ring plus tour jeté full with all my heart. I put on a display, my love for the sport emerging wider and broader as adrenaline pumped through my blood. I couldn't stop smiling, feeling every bit of my choreographed routine I spent countless hours perfecting. Floor could be so technical at times, losing the softness and grace that once went hand in hand with the event. Kova and Madeline were adamant about exhibiting fluidity and elegance, keeping that aspect front and center. They pressed about exhibiting a sophisticated, well-oiled gymnast. And that's what they got from us. From me.

Spotting the corner, I stepped into the half circle drawn with chalk and brought my arms down. I panted, inhaling a deep breath into my lungs and remained calm. This tumbling pass required more steps to gain the momentum I needed. Starting off with small steps, I ran halfway across the space into stronger, longer ones, and punched the floor with both my feet, knees locked straight. Arms raised above my head, I flipped heel over head forward into a front layout—my body straight as a board—punching the floor again into a front-handspring, exhausting my shoulders to pop off the floor with all the muscle I could to flip forward into a full-twist. I punched the floor again and finished with a front tuck.

No extra hop or step in my landing. I stuck the tumbling pass. Yes!

A modest smile displayed on my composed face. I had squeezed and tightened every muscle in my core during the tumbling pass, and then even more so at the end to prevent myself from shifting. I wanted to keep the rhythm going but first prove I could settle into clean landings.

With frontward facing passes, a gymnast could rebound so far forward and out of bounds from the power generated if they didn't practice control. Or sometimes end with a leap to cover up the mistake, which never passed the judges keen eyes. They always knew. It was easier to tumble head first than backwards in general, and adding a front tuck to the end of my pass helped control it a bit more for me.

I'd rather tumble backwards. But that was just me.

I spun around on my toes, leg extended high above my head, clutching my ankle. I pulled it firm to my chest and turned in two full circles. For whatever reason, a turn on floor or beam were always harder than any neck breaking tumbling pass out there. It was bizarre. You'd think it would be the other way around.

With tasteful poise and agile paces, I lowered my leg and pivoted a few paces until I was tight to the corner to execute my last tumbling pass, a double back tuck.

Like a colorful ribbon standing out and floating through the chalky air, I concluded with a brilliant smile. A floor routine no more than nin

ety seconds long, and I was on fire, full of zeal and energy and heavy breaths. God, I loved floor.

Quickly, I saluted the judges and skipped my way toward my team. I did well out there and they knew it, judging by their ecstatic faces. Madeline gave me five and so did Kova, whose arms I jumped into for a hug. My knees bent and my feet came up behind me. It wasn't uncommon for gymnasts to hug their coaches so closely. It was just how things happened and no one questioned it. So much trust and faith went into the dynamics of the coach/gymnast bond. They're the ones who enabled the talent to be freed in the first place.

"Perfection," Kova said with his arms wrapped firmly around my back. He put me down. Laughter caught my attention and applause from Madeline before I made my way to the girls. All of them, even Reagan, gave me an approving smile, high fives, and good jobs.

I was floating on cloud nine. My heart beat faster and faster against my ribs, hardly a second to slow down. I still had one event left to compete, and my score was high enough to qualify Compulsory, even if I made a few mistakes on beam. I glanced into the stands again hoping to see my parents, but it was too tedious squinting at all the heads. Grabbing my items, my team rotated to the last event.

Within a handful of minutes, everything took a drastic turn. I remained rooted in my chair in sheer disbelief. One knee bounced rapidly and I chewed the inside of my lip. This was how much of a rollercoaster gymnastics could be on the psyche. One minute I was up, the next, I was severely down.

Reagan had fallen off beam.