Out of Bounds (The Summer Games #2)(101)
After that day, the event finals dragged on for four solid days. I rode the shuttle with my teammates and walked into the arena, ready to compete. I tugged off my warm-up clothes and stretched, going through the motions that seemed to get easier with each day. Lexi won first on vault as she’d predicted, and Molly won first on bars. I won first on beam, tipping back into skills that were as natural as breathing. Bars and vault weren’t my strongest events and though I did win a bronze medal in both, I was counting on floor to bring my gold medal count up to four.
The night before the final event, I stood in the condo’s tiny kitchen, rooting through the cabinets and trying to find something, anything to bake.
“What are you doing?” Molly asked from behind me.
I jumped in the air, surprised by her silent approach.
“Trying to find sugar.”
“There’s nothing in those cabinets. If you’re hungry, I’ll go down to the food court with you. I’m seriously going to miss that smoothie bar when we head back to the States.”
The States.
Right.
“Even if I have one with every meal, that means I only have five left before we have to leave in two days. I’m going to have to open a freaking Jamba Juice in my house.”
Molly was trying to make light conversation, but she was also unknowingly breaking my heart.
It was Monday night. The following day, we were set to compete in our final event and attend the closing ceremonies. My flight back to Texas was first thing Wednesday morning.
My stomach clenched.
How could time have slipped by so quickly? How could things with Erik still be up in the air? I thought I had done the right thing by putting distance between us and clinging to the excuse that we’d figure things out after the Olympics were finished, but now that the time was actually approaching, I was terrified. The delayed feelings between us hadn’t been lying dormant; they’d been morphing and evolving into something I didn’t even recognize any more.
Erik was there with me in the arena and standing off to the side during my interviews, but he never joined me for lunch or dinner. He didn’t try to ask for another date or press for my time. He was polite, but distant, not quite cold, but alluring. In other words, he was driving me freaking insane. How was it possible? How could every decision be the wrong one? I’d wanted to push Erik out of the forefront of my mind, reclaim the right to my own thoughts, but he was always there, forcing me to second-guess my every decision. Was I too hard on him in the food court? Should I have accepted his date? Did he miss our fighting the way I did? Not the anger, but the feeling of being near each other, of owning that part of each other.
“Why the hell does this place not have any sugar?!”
I slammed a small cupboard door closed and turned on my heel.
“Where are you going?” Molly asked, concerned.
“To bed.”
I shut myself up in my room. Technically, I did go to bed, but I didn’t sleep. I laid on top of my sheets, stared at the ceiling, and tried to figure out what I wanted. I couldn’t keep delaying the inevitable or I’d be on a flight back to Texas, settled into a seat by myself and staring out the plane’s window with only memories of Erik to keep me company.
By the last event final, I was a bundle of anxiety. I walked into the arena hyperaware of my shaking hands, of the tension pooled in my stomach. My bun was a little too tight and my leotard was already damp with sweat. I could pin part of my nerves on the competition, and part on exhaustion. Floor was the last event final and I was slotted to win gold.
Beam and floor came so naturally to me, it seemed unfair to the other competitors. My music was a soft lyrical piece that brought me back to my days in ballet. I warmed up in my own space, swallowing past the lump in my throat when they played my music over the loud speaker. I settled into the rhythm of the piano and tried to ignore Erik’s presence just outside the white out-of-bounds line.
Warm-ups slipped into competition and I fidgeted off to the side of the floor, hopping back and forth on the balls of my feet to keep warm. I stretched my arms across my body and rolled out my neck, oblivious to the other competitors on the floor before me. Their music filled the arena and their bodies hopped and jumped and tumbled across the floor, but it wasn’t until Erik’s hand hit my back that I realized I was up next.
“This is your final event,” he said, leading me to the spot just to the side of the floor. “Are you ready for it to be over?”
My gaze sliced up to him as adrenaline spiked my blood. Was he referring to the competition or my time in Rio?
The answer was the same for both.
“No.”
He nodded just as my name was announced over the speakers.
“Brie Watson from Team USA.”
He tipped his head down and took a step back. “Good luck.”
I took a deep breath and spun to face the judges. I arched my back, saluted them, and then walked gracefully to my starting position in the very center of the giant blue floor. I paused, dropped my weight into my right leg, and crossed my hands overhead. In a moment, my music would start. I’d kick my leg up high and then complete three quick spins that would transition easily into my first tumbling pass. I’d hop and bounce, using my beauty and grace to captivate the judges, but before all that, there was a brief moment when my eyes were squeezed closed, when I was alone in that arena and my breath was the only sound I could hear for miles on end. My heart rioted against my chest and I knew then I’d go home from Rio proud of myself. For all the pain and doubt I’d endured, one thing was beyond question: I was an Olympian.