Letters to Nowhere(20)

My feet pounded the runway, adrenaline rushing through me, overtaking any trace of fear I’d had about landing on the regular mats instead of the soft safety of the foam pit. I hit the springboard in just the right spot and dove backward toward the vault table and got an awesome push, giving me all the power I needed to complete the one and a half backward flip with two twists. My knees bent at just the right time as I touched the landing mat, ignoring the sting traveling from my ankles all the way to my hips.

I held the landing, not making a single movement, my insides screaming for me to jump up and cheer, maybe run a victory lap around the gym. But I played it cool, not even looking at Bentley as I walked off the mat.

“Beautiful, Karen. Keep it up and we’ll work on adding an extra half twist,” Bentley said.

Oh my God! My mouth twitched fighting a smile. Maybe Blair was right. Maybe I had acquired some superpowers recently. Upgrading my vault difficulty was not something I needed for UCLA, so maybe this was a sign? Maybe Bentley and I were on the same page.

***

After practice, before I could get to the locker room to change, Jordan came stumbling through the gym’s front doors, red–faced and shivering.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

He blew on his hands, rubbing them together before unzipping his ski jacket. “Uh, giving you a ride home except, I might not be able to do that.”

“What happened?”

“Car broke down,” he said through chattering teeth. “About a mile away. I guess my dad practices what he preaches with his rule of no cell phones on the floor. I really need to program the number for the front desk into my phone.”

“Sorry.” I glanced at the door to the conference room, sealed shut to keep gymnasts and parents out. “He just started his staff meeting. We might be hanging out here for a while.”

Blair came out of the locker room right then and I could feel her eyes on us, taking in the situation. She grabbed the strap of my leotard, yanking me into the opening of the locker room and away from Jordan. “That’s Bentley’s kid?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s so cute,” she whispered. “Like majorly gorgeous. I can’t believe you actually live with him.”

“Live with who?” Ellen asked, appearing behind Blair. She poked her head out of the locker room and squealed. “That’s Jordan!”

I shook Blair off my arm and rolled my eyes at both of them. “Jesus, you’d think he was some boy band hero or something.”

“Proof that we all really need to get a life,” Blair said.

Ellen leaned against the wall, chewing on her bottom lip. “She’s right.”

“Yes, a life would be good,” I agreed. “And as your friend, I’m going to save you from yourselves. Do not squeal, blush, or giggle in his presence. Either walk up to him and introduce yourself or don’t. Anything in between is going to make you wish for an all–girls college, all right?”

They both nodded, serious, as if I were the coach giving them a pre–competition pep talk.

Ellen shoved me out the door first, causing me to stumble back into the lobby. “How about you introduce us?”

“How about we save it for next time,” Blair whispered, racing past me toward the safety of her mother waiting by the front doors with keys in hand.

I returned to Jordan’s side. He looked like he wanted to ask about the girl–drama that just went on, but he kept his mouth shut. “Sorry again about you walking a mile in this weather. Isn’t it like one degree with the wind chill or something?”

“It feels colder.” He shuddered and removed his icy coat.

Stevie was still in her leotard, chatting in the lobby with Sylvia, the team dance teacher and choreographer. I saw Jordan’s eyes travel in her direction. I laughed and elbowed him in the side. “Go talk to her. You know you want to.”

He shrugged. “Maybe I will.”

I waited for several seconds and Jordan’s feet stayed planted to the same spot. “That was anticlimactic.”

This time it was he who dug his elbow into my ribs. “It’s not that easy. She’s…older…and a world champion.”

“So is your dad,” I pointed out. “And socially, Stevie is probably the same age as you. If she’s anything like me, which she is because we’re both elite gymnasts, then she got a late start on dating, I’m sure.” Or maybe she hadn’t even started?

The dance teacher walked off, leaving Stevie no choice but to see us, standing in the lobby watching her. Jordan turned to me and smirked before strolling over in Stevie’s direction.

Obviously he didn’t need me standing beside him while he flirted with my teammate. I’d already invaded his make–out session the other night. “I’m gonna do more conditioning if we’re stuck here for two more hours.”

“Hey, Stevie,” I heard Jordan say.

From the corner of my eye, I saw my much older, much more mature teammate blush. “Jordan, right?”

“You remembered,” he said.

They were out of hearing range now and all I could do was watch their body language as I grabbed a jump rope and got on a high beam to do a little extra cardio. Ten minutes later, Jordan came out in the gym with me, which was now completely empty.