to find the team. We’re supposed to be running through the routine in the arena.”
She pushed herself up suddenly, still ignoring my hand, and just as suddenly lurched sideways, like she was about to fall over. I reached out and steadied her.
“Okay, seriously. What’s wrong? I saw the face you made during the basket tosses. What did the trainer say when you saw him?”
“He said I’m fine.” Katie’s eyes darted up and down the hallway, but her face was ashen. “Will you just let me go?”
“I’m coming with you,” I said as she pushed away from the wall. “And I don’t feel good about this.”
“Well you don’t have to,” Katie snapped. She glared at my hand where it rested on her shoulder. “I can walk, you know.”
“Can you?”
She shook my hand loose and set off down the hallway. I stayed half a step behind her, ready to catch her if she showed the slightest sign of unsteadiness. But she made it to the arena without incident.
“You don’t have to compete, you know,” I told her as she stepped inside, scanning the floor for her team. “If you’re hurt, or even if you just—”
“Julian, how many times do I have to tell you that I’m fine? Really?” As if to prove it, she threw her arms around me and pulled me into an unexpected hug. “I really appreciate you being here, and caring so much, but I’ve gotta go now, okay? I’ll see you after.”
She pushed away through the crowd before I could respond.
The arena was full of people now. Multiple teams were running through their routines on the floor, and the stands were beginning to fill with spectators, family, and people running around with headsets and lanyards, looking busy.
I found my mom and dad in the stands after careful searching and went to join them. I didn’t want to sit with them so much as I wanted not to lose track of my dad again. I was starving by the time the competition began, and would have gone to get more food, except I didn’t want to let him out of my sight.
Katie’s team had run through their routine twice on the floor, and while they’d been pretty far away from us, I was pretty sure Katie had been fine the whole way through. Her smile stayed in place and the basket tosses went off without a hitch. I began to wonder if I’d been overreacting this whole time.
When the competition finally began, a hum of excitement filled the air, thrumming in time with the nerves in my body. Even if everything went smoothly, I just wanted this day to be over. It was Katie’s last big competition of the year. She deserved a break, and I hoped my dad would give her one over the summer.
A hush fell over the arena each time a team performed, and it was no different as Katie’s team took the floor in front of the crowd. Even though I’d seen them perform the whole routine flawlessly twice, my stomach twisted.
Please let it go well, I prayed silently to whoever it was I prayed to these days. Please let her be okay.
The music started and the athletes exploded into movement, shapes and figures flashing across the floor, tumbling and jumping in sharp bursts that left me breathless. My eyes dipped down to the row of judges for a moment, trying to gauge their reactions, before snapping back up to Katie. She was what was important.
And it was going well. Whatever tiredness I’d seen earlier, she seemed to have shaken off. Her smile was huge and her form was perfect, and while I didn’t actually know that much about cheerleading, I was pretty sure she was the best one out there.
One tumbling pass, then a second, and then it was time for the basket tosses. One beat and she was in front of her bases. Another and she was up in their arms. A third and she was airborne.
Katie was tiny, and the height she got was amazing. In moments like this, I understood why my dad thought her talent had to have some supernatural source. When she was flying, it was easy to believe that anything was possible.
But when she came back down, I saw it. As far away as I was, I still saw the fraction of a second where her smile slipped. She bit her lip as her bases caught her, and my stomach lurched. There was something wrong, no matter how