Tumble (Dogwood Lane, #1)(29)

“Let’s go,” I say, following her out the door.



“Great job, Mia!”

She shrieks and jumps up and down, the bun on top of her head wobbling with each leap. “I did it!” she says, grinning from ear to ear. “Keyarah! Did you see?”

“Do it again,” her friend insists. “Hurry. When I did my back tuck the first time, I waited too long to do it again. Go.”

“It’ll be better this time,” Madison says from the side of the mat by Keyarah. “You know you can do it now.”

The three little girls banter back and forth while Mia gets settled at the corner of the mat. She looks at me with a hint of trepidation in her bright-green eyes. Her hands clench beside her.

“Hey,” I say. “Breathe. You got this, girl. Remember to push off your toes.”

“Okay.” She nods and takes a long, deep breath.

Motioning for the girls to quiet down, I take a step off the mat. Remaining as still as I can, I meet her eyes.

My heart sprints with her as she barrels across the floor. I hold my breath as she turns her roundoff, and my torso pulls up as Mia leaps backward and rotates.

“Come on,” I beg as she unwraps her body and sticks the landing. “Nailed it!”

Her friends cheer as I clap, watching Mia jet across the room toward me. Before I can congratulate her, she propels herself into me. “Thank you,” she says, her arms wrapped around my waist.

“You did it. Not me.” I laugh. “Aerial said you almost had it last week.”

“Yeah, but having you tell me I could do it was different.” Her eyes shine with gratitude, as if she really believes that.

My heart nearly bursts. “That had nothing to do with me. It was all you, kiddo.”

“She’s been working on that forever,” Madison says as she and Keyarah come up to us. “Since we got out of school. That was the first day you tried it, wasn’t it?”

Mia lets me go. “Yeah. The last day of school I tried it for the first time. I freaked out, and every time I tried it again, I remembered falling so hard. I didn’t think I could do it.”

“Let me tell you something,” I say. “You’re gonna fall a lot. Sometimes it’ll hurt and sometimes it won’t hurt as much as it will bruise you, and you’ll have that scar for a really long time. But you can’t let it stop you.”

“Sounds like you’re talking about life.” Aerial walks by, flipping me a wink. “Nice job, Mia.”

“Thanks!”

“Did you fall a lot?” Keyarah asks me.

“All the time,” I tell them. “The worst one was in Iowa. I’ll never forget it.”

“What happened?” Madison asks.

“Well, I got on the mat. I had hit this routine all year, and if I hit it, I would win.” I skip past the part about Dane and how my mind couldn’t shake him and his baby drama that day. “It shouldn’t have been hard at all. My foot slipped and I fell, whacking my head on the beam on my way down. It knocked me out cold.”

The girls gasp.

“My left side was purple for a long time,” I admit. “I had to miss a week of practices. But the worst part wasn’t any of that.” I look them each in the eye one at a time. “The worst part was the fear.”

“I’d be scared,” Keyarah says.

“But you’re scared of the dark too,” Madison tells her.

“Fear is healthy. It’s normal.” I shrug. “It’s your body’s way of saying, ‘Hey, something scary is happening.’ But anything you do that you haven’t done before seems scary, right?”

They nod.

“Fear is also a way of saying, ‘We don’t really know how this is going to end, so you might want to double-check everything.’ And that’s a good thing. The key is to look at fear like your friend and not your enemy. And,” I say, leaning forward like I’m telling them a secret, “that little burst of adrenaline never hurts.”

“I could feel it.” Mia giggles. “Right before I took off, I felt really excited.”

“That’s it. Just don’t like it too much.” I laugh.

“Why not?” Madison asks.

“That’ll get you in trouble later. Adrenaline junkies have lots of bruises as they grow up.”

“I’m not growing up,” Mia informs us. “When you grow up you have to get a job and a house and bills.”

“And laundry,” Madison adds. “I hate putting up laundry, and I don’t even have to wash it yet.”

“Don’t grow up. That’s smart,” I tell Mia as I glance at my watch. “I think it’s quitting time, girls.”

“Will you be here next time?” Keyarah asks.

“Yeah. Will you?” Mia looks up at me. “You’re the best coach ever.”

“I should be. I’ll be here for a little while longer.”

They celebrate, making me laugh. Their reactions cause a swell in my chest, a sense of satisfaction that’s hard to achieve. Watching their purity for friendship, for cheering each other on, for a desire to achieve something new, spurs something inside me to want to do this again. I make a mental note to find a gym in New York where I can volunteer sometimes.