a real thing. I missed the arrogant Russian and his encouraging words of wisdom. I needed him with me.
I glanced down and my eyes caught the fading yellow circle on my leg as I slipped on my wrist guards. Injecting the B12 into my hip had been more painful than I expected, especially the following days when I worked bars and my grip slipped, causing me to slam my hips down. The pain took my breath away. The injection site on my hip was still tender, but it hid the bruising well, so I forced myself to grin and bear it.
This meet was a little bigger and on podium again. I had more competition this time around, but nothing I couldn't handle.
"Ready to roll?" Madeline asked. I nodded with a straight face and she waved me toward her. I pushed any pain my body was going through out of my mind. I relied on Madeline a lot and I think she noticed it because she kept checking on me. I stuck to her side as much as I could and absorbed every little thing she said.
I'd been to hundreds of meets since I started gymnastics over ten years ago, and every time I got butterflies in my stomach. Every time my nerves went haywire and it put me on edge. I shook it out, but the truth was I loved the adrenaline rush because I loved to perform.
"Remember, what we discussed. You've got the handspring and block down pat, just drive those heels and stay tight. Chin down and crank it hard." I nodded again and remained tight-lipped. She patted my shoulder. "Show them who owns the vault."
I smiled. Vault was my specialty, but one of my biggest fears was that I would trip while I was running.
Chalking up, I eyed the vault, visualizing my skill. When the judges gave me the okay to go, I only had a few seconds to salute them then step behind the white line. From the corner of my eye, I could see Madeline nearby, hands on hips, ready to study every detail when I took off running.
Within seconds, my feet punched the springboard and I was flying in the air, executing my skill, one that put me ahead of the other competitor's due to the difficulty of it. I stayed as tight as I could, legs together and straight, as I quickly thought about my coach's suggestions. Just like me, judges had one chance to take it all in. There were no instant replays in gymnastics like other sports. Judging is done in real time and it happens real fast.
When I landed, I knew. I knew I stuck my dismount. Not because I didn't move my feet, or take a step, but because my form was perfect in flight along with my dismount. I could feel it in my heart that there was no possible way it could have been any better. A stuck landing in gymnastics was monumental and always exciting because it was so challenging to achieve due to the complexity of the skill—and physics.
My teammates, my coach, the crowd, they all cheered and clapped. A massive smile shaped my face as I saluted three times before I leaped down the steps to greet Madeline.
I received high fives and smiles from all the girls.
"Gotta give it to you, Red, that was pretty incredible," Reagan said. My heart raced as I caught my breath. The amount of adrenaline pumping through my veins gave me a high like I could take on anything. I couldn't stop smiling. I felt like I was six-foot-three in a five foot, ninety pound body.
Madeline rushed me, pulling me into a hug so tight I could barely breathe. She pulled back and gripped my shoulders and shook me with excitement. "Well done! It couldn't have been any better! Girl, you keep on impressing me. What a way to start the competition. You're a true performer," she said. "How are you—" She started but my score flashed. We both glanced up at the same time and read the numbers.
My heart dropped.
Chills broke out on my arms.
Silence surrounded me.
I stared at the numbers, not believing what I saw. Madeline mumbled as we gawked side by side. She was just as stunned as I was. There was no way I had received that score. There was just no way. A perfect score was rare and incredibly difficult to accomplish. My score was too good to be true because that meant my