Gymnastics, years before Xiao had joined the coaching staff, if one of his exercises wasn’t going well, Tony would stop in the middle instead of powering through. No matter how much the head coach at the time—a man who believed the louder he yelled, the more likely his gymnasts were to listen—had hollered that Tony needed to learn how to finish an exercise after an error, just as he’d have to do in competition, Tony continued to stop mid-routine after any mistake.
Tony had told Sol that if the routine wasn’t perfect, the rush at the end just wasn’t the same.
He’d gotten better, of course, at least when it came to finishing his routines at meets. But apparently he’d channeled all of his bailing behavior into his personal life—and then into his gymnastics career.
The more Sol thought about it, the more his stomach roiled. The guys on the national team, the guys Sol had been training with for four years, the ones he’d be training with again next week—all of them were committed to the team, to putting Team USA on the podium at the Olympics. Every one of them deserved a spot on the team, even though, with the new rules, there were only four team spots to fill, plus the two additional individual quota spots.
The fact that Tony might fill one of those spots because of his World Cup performance meant that one of the guys who’d shown up for every practice, consistently busting his ass, could get bumped if the selection committee decided to go with Tony.
Tony. The only veteran of the Rio Games other than Sol—and Sol had only been an alternate. Did Olympic experience outweigh loyalty? Should it? What was best for the team?
Sol’s hands were shaking as he shoved his phone in his bag. Shit. Recovery protein. I forgot. He hoisted the bag to his shoulder and walked out of the locker room.
When he got upstairs, Xiao was the only one in the coaches’ office. He was on the phone, but he glanced up at Sol, then looked pointedly at the bilious green shake sitting on his desk. He must still be mad if he picked the kale-flavored powder. Ugh.
Sol grimaced and mouthed sorry. He picked up the cup and started to back out of the office, but Xiao motioned him to sit in the chair next to the desk.
“Yes. I understand. Thank you.” Xiao hung up, but didn’t speak immediately. Xiao’s patient wordlessness made Sol squirm worse than the loudest tirade from the former coach.
“I’m sorry.”
“It is not me you should be apologizing to. You hurt no one but yourself when you ignore your body’s needs.” Xiao studied Sol with his dark, solemn eyes, his hands completely still on his chair arms. “This is not like you. What’s the matter?”
Sol gulped down about a third of the nasty kale shake. “Apparently Tony Thomas is angling for a spot on the Olympic team.”
Xiao nodded calmly. “This should not be a surprise. He’s been competing at qualifying events all season.”
“Never at the ones I’ve been at.” Sol glared at his feet. Was that on purpose? Did Tony want to avoid Sol so badly—for some reason that Sol couldn’t fathom—that he couldn’t even stand to be in the same arena?
“Of course not. You were competing with the team, at team events. He was competing individually, at the apparatus events. But none of that should affect how you approach your own training and self-care.”
Shouldn’t it? “I know. I’ll get my shit together by next week. Even if… Even if…” Sol slammed his empty cup into his open palm, spattering green drops onto his sweats. Damn kale. “He doesn’t deserve to be there with the other guys who’ve worked so hard to make the team.”
“He has worked hard also. His routines have some of the highest start values of any but the Japanese.”
“Assuming he lands them,” Sol muttered.
“What was that?”
Sol leaned back in the chair, the slats cutting into his shoulder blades. “You didn’t join the coaching staff until after Tony left. You haven’t seen how he’d bail when an exercise wasn’t going exactly the way he wanted.”
“I didn’t see that this season.”
Sol’s gaze shot to Xiao’s face. “You’ve been following him?”
A tiny smile curved Xiao’s lips. “I follow everyone. How else can we strategize if we don’t know our own talent pool as well as that of our opponents?”
“‘We’?”
Xiao inclined his head. “I have been asked to assist at the USOPTC. I’ll be going with you next week.”
“Really?”