Page 109 of Salto

“Oh, that’s great. We can come watch your meet then and get dinner together after.”

We talked a little longer. She gave me updates on Jamie and my dad. At one point, I dozed off in the conversation, and she insisted I go to sleep.

I said goodnight and only a few minutes later passed out on the couch.

CHAPTER 38

The days started to blur together.

The training continued. The pain continued. And it felt like I was on a fast-moving train that couldn't stop.

My routines grew more intense. Vanta added another pass to my floor routine. Hana refused to ease up on my dance choreography. And Rove had me working two new bar routines.

It was a lot, but stopping to catch my breath would only put me behind. And I had to keep up.

The U.S Classic wasn't that far away.

And then, just when I thought things couldn’t get any harder, Thursday rolled around, and my little white lie started to fall apart.

The one about the ice bath.

When I walked into practice that morning, Rove was waiting for me, not fiddling with the music or writing in his notebook. He had his arms folded and was staring right at me.

“Uh, hi,” I said, setting my bag down, my brow furrowing. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He didn’t look angry, but he didn’t look particularly pleased either.

“I was talking to Ella yesterday.”

“Oh,” I said, stepping onto the floor and starting into my warm-up.

“Yeah, she said that she’s been frequently walking past the ice bath station in one of the PT rooms, and she hasn’t seen you in there.”

There were a few PT rooms alongside the administrative offices. I'd never been curious enough to figure out where they kept the ice baths.

Because there was no way I was ever going to use one.

“Red,” he said when I didn’t respond.

“Yes, Coach,” I said, unable to hide the Shortcake that bled into my tone.

His jaw clenched. “You’ve been skipping the cold baths, haven’t you?”

I went back to stretching and tried to think of a way out of this. “I’m doing fine, really,” I started.

“We had a deal, Scarlet,” Rove said, using my real name and sending a jolt of fear down my spine. He walked over to me, stopping a few feet away from where I was stretching. “You said you’d follow medical advice.”

I stopped mid-stretch and gave him a pleading look. “I know, but ice baths really, really aren’t my thing.”

He let out a disbelieving scoff. “Not your thing? It’s non-negotiable. You have to take care of yourself for this to work.”

I huffed and fell down into a straddle. “Okay. I will.”

When I looked up, he didn’t look convinced. But he didn’t push it.

And truly, I thought I’d gotten him to drop the matter.

Then we were on bars later that afternoon. I was doing my routine, heading into the Jaeger. I had been doing it perfectly all morning. Rove had backed off completely on spotting, he was sitting on his block throne, just watching for any small corrections he could give me on the sequence.