The Thomas Flair - E.J. Russell Page 0,16
calm and measured as always.
“I meant what I said. The guys here have been focused on legitimate training. Making the Olympic team means something to us. Hell, it means everything. Ever since Rio, Tony’s been playing celebrity and jumping out of planes or off cliffs or off buildings, and now he’s back as if he deserves a place on the team like Danny or Eduardo or you. Guys who’ve sacrificed everything for this chance. What has he sacrificed?”
Rahul tilted his head. “I can’t speak for him, of course, but from the expression on his face when he left, I don’t think he’s a stranger to sacrifice. It may simply not be the one you expect.”
Sol scowled. “Are you on his side?”
“I’m on the side of Team USA, the same as you claim we all are. But I intend to reserve judgment until we see how he behaves in the gym. You might want to do the same.”
Too late for that. But Sol jerked a nod and retreated into his room. Fuck yoga. He pulled up Galaga Wars on his iPad and started blowing shit up.
After a week of Sol’s cold shoulder routine—never speaking to Tony at meals or in the gym, pointedly avoiding any apparatus Tony was working on, keeping a minimum of six guys between them during conditioning workouts—Tony was about to climb the walls without the benefit of a rope.
Because it wasn’t a coincidence—or subtle.
Just now, Sol had veered off at a right angle, cutting an unnecessary detour around the vault table so he wouldn’t have to walk past Tony. Danny, who had just finished his still rings exercise, sweat glistening on his brown chest, stared after him.
“What gives with you and Sol, man?”
Tony stuffed his grips in his gym bag. “Ask him.”
“I’m asking you.”
Tony sighed. “What can I say? History.”
“Well, drop history and sign up for communications, dude, because I’m starting to get frostbite from the chill. This is our gym, not a cold war zone.”
Morning training was over, and although the guys were starting to straggle out of the gym, the tension was as thick as chalk dust in the air.
Fuck this. Danny’s right.
Tony sprinted across the spring floor and cut Sol off by the foam pit.
“Hold up.”
Sol didn’t respond, didn’t even glance his way, although a few of the guys paused by the gym doorway.
“Sol.” Tony lunged to block Sol’s path. “I said hold. Up.”
Sol stared at him, unsmiling, his dark eyes hard. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”
“Yeah. And that’s the problem.”
Sol hitched his bag further up his shoulder. “I’ve got a meeting with Xiao.”
“No, you don’t.”
Sol’s jaw tightened, his knuckles whitening around the strap of his bag. “You don’t know—”
“Yeah, I do. Xiao’s tied up with the UOC. Which you’d know if you hadn’t high-tailed it out of the dining hall this morning when I sat down at the table.”
“That had nothing to do with you. I was done eating.”
“You left half your eggs on your plate. That’s not just childish, Sol, that’s irresponsible. You need that protein.”
“Since when do you care about my health?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe since the minute you walked into Central Gymnastics fourteen years ago.”
Sol’s shoulders rose with a huge breath, and Tony could imagine him counting the seconds in his head—one one thousand, two one thousand—the way he had when he was learning his first still rings skills. “If you think bringing up the past will change my opinion—”
“The past is past, Sol. I can’t change it. You can’t change it. But this here?” Tony jabbed his finger toward the floor. “Now? This we can change.” Out of the corner of his eye, Tony saw Danny whisper something to the other guys and start toward them. “You claim to be totally vested in the team dynamic.”
“I am! You’re a disruptive influence. You—”
“Really? Because from where I’m standing, you’re the one doing the disrupting. You’re making the guys choose sides. Team Sol or Team Tony. Don’t you think we should focus on gymnastics? On being Team USA?”
Uncertainty flickered across Sol’s face, but then his expression hardened again. “I am. If I’m more serious about my training than you—”
“Bullshit. I’m just as serious. We all are. But if we want to be a team, we need to be a team. I admit I’ve fucked up in the past. I let the team down in Rio.”
Sol blinked. “You—”
“But I’m doing my best to fix it, all right? Have you seen me doing anything to pull focus in the