ends and we can see where Hallie will fall in the rankings. As she sucks down the contents of her water bottle, I watch the competition. Delia polishes off a glorious floor routine. Ayanna completes an impressive series of release moves on bars. On beam, Charlotte sways off balance when trying to land a front aerial and loses her footing. The crowd lets out a somber “Ooooh” when she falls to the ground. I cringe; I feel so terrible for her. She climbs back up on beam and finishes her routine with a disappointed grimace.
When the second rotation ends, Hallie has dropped into fourth place. That’s still a very good spot to be in—if the competition were over right this second, she’d make the Olympic team—but it also means there’s no more room for error or bad luck. If she doesn’t perform the hell out of her next two routines, or if anyone else happens to have a startlingly successful showing, it’s game over.
I’ve always known, of course, that making the Olympic team is a long shot. I knew there were no guarantees of Hallie’s success when I signed on to coach her. But somehow, I’ve never thought through exactly what to say or do to console her if it turns out that she doesn’t make the team, despite our best efforts. There’s no good way to comfort a person whose sole dream has just slipped away. I hope it doesn’t come to that.
Hallie heads off to warm up for beam.
“You okay, Avery?” Ryan asks, once she’s gone.
“Ha. Hanging in there,” I say.
“You look stressed,” he says.
He knows me well enough to see through the calm act I’m putting on for Hallie.
“I didn’t realize this would bother me until I got here, but being at Trials again? It’s just kind of a lot,” I confess.
“Because of what happened to you?” he asks.
“I know I’m fine, and it’s not that I expect Hallie to have a freak accident the way I did, but today’s major, even if we’re pretending it’s not. No matter what happens today, a few people’s lives change for the better, and everyone else’s lives will really suck,” I explain. “I know that sounds really stupid and obvious, but I just… I feel for these girls.”
“It’s high stakes,” he says, nodding.
He reaches for my hand and runs his thumb soothingly across my palm. The gesture is comforting.
“I hope Hallie makes it,” I say glumly.
He heaves a giant sigh. “Me, too.”
I barely breathe when it’s Hallie’s turn on beam. The problem with this apparatus is that you can’t get cocky: it doesn’t matter how talented you are or how hard you’ve worked to prepare—you can still fall, and then you’re screwed. “Come on, come on, come on,” I whisper, watching her execute the back handspring, whip back, back layout step-out combo we’ve drilled so many times. It’s solid, but I still can’t relax. Every muscle in my body tightens as she winds up to perform the wolf turn. I’m relieved when she stays on the beam without a wobble. There’s a brief glint of surprise on her face, too. Her dismount goes smoothly, too, and it’s only when she salutes the judges that I can finally exhale. The routine was good, but not great: I can imagine one tiny deduction for not seamlessly connecting two jumps, and another one for a leg that could’ve been a little bit straighter. But overall, it was a fine showing.
She barrels back to the bench, where I wrap her in a hug and stroke her hair.
“You’re amazing,” I say. “You’re doing a really beautiful job.”
She shudders. “At least beam is over.”
The judges give her a 13.500, and by the time the rotation ends, that lands her in sixth place—barely in Olympic contention, but only as an alternate. She’s fallen behind Emma, Kiki, Delia, Taylor, and Ayanna. From what I can tell, the problem wasn’t that her beam routine was terrible, but rather that everyone else had an unusually great rotation. I wish I could calculate what score she’ll need in order to guarantee a full spot on the Olympic team, but I don’t know how to even begin figuring that out. My stomach cramps with nerves.
Hallie presses her lips together like she’s trying not to wince or groan. I kneel down in front of her, gripping both of her hands in mine. I have to go off script.
“Look, I know that we’ve been saying all day that you should just pretend like this