Page 11 of Salto

That dream had stopped belonging to me a long time ago. Whether Sloane got an invitation or not didn't have anything to do with me.

So I headed toward the athletic training rooms, letting their voices fade behind me.

The east side of the locker room was fully designated for exams and physical therapy—cold tubs, compression systems, foam rollers, massage tools. Honestly, if it existed, it was probably back there. A few other gymnasts were already being helped by different ATs as I passed by on my way to the room where Melissa was waiting for me.

She smiled when she saw me. A pair of tortoiseshell glasses rested on her nose, and she tucked a loose strand of black hair behind her ear.

“Hey, Scarlet. Good to see you.”

She shut the door behind me and gestured toward the exam table. I hopped up onto the crinkly paper, hating the feel of it on the back of my thighs.

“Hey, Melissa.”

I tried to shove the Shortcake from my body, not wanting to take it out on Melissa. None of this was her fault, after all.

“I know you don’t love these check-ins,” she said, giving me a sympathetic smile. “But I want to see how you’re feeling.”

“I’m good,” I said quickly.

“That's good.” She wrapped the blood pressure cuff around my arm. “Before we get into all the boring stuff, tell me something non-health-related. Do anything fun this weekend?”

As she started to check my blood pressure, my mind wandered back to the beach.

Bright blond hair.

Mossy green eyes framed by impossibly dark lashes.

Somehow the lingering sting of Shortcake disappeared, replaced by the memory of tattoos and motorcycles.

I caught myself smiling and quickly cleared my throat.

“Oh,” I said casually. “I went to the beach.”

“That sounds nice.” She smiled as she finished checking my breathing and reflexes before setting her clipboard down. “Alright. Now tell me about the pain.”

“I’m not really in much pain. Since switching birth control, things have been a little more manageable. And when I do feel pain during practice, it's usually brief.”

“I’m glad to hear that the new birth control is helping.”

I'd been diagnosed with PCOS when I was a teen. Ever since I got my cycle, I'd dealt with pain in my abdomen and back. Mostly my back. During my periods, it had been excruciating. The birth control was supposed to stop my periods altogether, and I'd hoped it would take the pain with them. It hadn't. Not really. It had taken the edge off, but the deep ache never completely disappeared.

PCOS was hormonal, the OB-GYN had explained. Treatment was about managing symptoms. Birth control was one of the only real options.

It helped a little. Mostly, I relied on things like over-the-counter pain relievers when things flared.

The symptoms had ultimately ended my elite career before it ever really began.

I'd taken a bad fall from the high bar after a wave of pain hit in the middle of my routine. I hadn't broken anything, but the loss of control had terrified my coach and my family.

And honestly, it scared me too.

If the pain hit at the wrong moment, I could seriously injure myself.

So instead of pursuing elite, I chose college gymnastics.

Less training. Less pressure on my body. My routines were built around what hurt the least, and that was the compromise everyone agreed on.

“You said the pain during practice isn’t unbearable,” Melissa said, glancing at her notes. “But you are still experiencing some amount of pain?”