The Thomas Flair - E.J. Russell Page 0,19

been the goal, whereas Tony had always gone for the glory of the risky move, even if he didn’t land it all the time.

Xiao simply gazed at him, calm and imperturbable as always. “Yes.”

“Oookay.”

“You will add another tumbling pass.”

“A sixth pass?” Sol gulped. “I thought you said I didn’t need it.”

“Not for NCAA competitions or US meets. But it will stand up better internationally.”

“Do you think I have time for that?”

“Yes. After your third pass and before your flairs. A tucked front with a twist and a triple-twisting layout. Skills you have had for years, but you’ll get a connection bonus.”

That was true. The elements weren’t difficult for him. But… “A sixth pass?”

“Visualize it now and you’ll see what I mean.”

Xiao was big on visualizing routines before executing them and had turned Sol into a believer. So Sol stood at the corner of the floor, outside the boundary lines, and let everything else in the gym—the creak of the p-bars, the sound of someone’s feet pounding toward the vault, the shouts of the other coaches—fade away, imagining each step of his floor ex. Xiao’s right. I can do this.

He took a deep breath, then launched into the routine.

One element at a time. Don’t project. Don’t look back. No negative thoughts. He nailed the first three passes, then lined up in the corner for the new one. Somewhere to his left, someone shouted, followed by a thud, and feet slapping against the mats, but he ignored it, allowing the tunnel vision that descended whenever he competed to tune out everything nonessential. I’m pausing too long. But this wasn’t a meet. On his first time with this new pass, he could be forgiven for taking a little extra time.

Another deep breath and he took off. Run. Full twisting tuck. Punch into the triple-twisting layout. He didn’t nail the landing, but he could fix that. Don’t look back. He moved on to his non-acrobatic sequence, and even though Xiao hadn’t mentioned it, he added spindles to the flair section, as he’d been practicing with Tony. Xiao’s gonna give me hell about that.

So when he completed the exercise, sticking the landing on his dismount—yes!—he wasn’t surprised to see a very solemn Xiao waiting for him next to his gym bag.

Sol grinned at him. “I know, I know. I should have run those spindles by you first, but—”

“Sol.” When Xiao’s voice didn’t include the expected rebuke, Sol looked closer. That wasn’t censure in his expression—it was regret.

Sol’s hands shook as he accepted a water bottle from Xiao. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Before Xiao could answer, Danny ran over, chest heaving. “Did you see?”

“See what?” Sol glanced around wildly. Several gymnasts were huddled together near the still rings, but he didn’t see any of the other coaches. “Did something happen?”

“Oh, man.” Danny ran his hands through his hair, leaving streaks of chalk in his black curls. “It’s Tony.”

The water bottle slipped out of Sol’s grip, falling to the floor and spilling water onto the mat. “What about Tony?”

“He had a bad landing on rings. He might have torn his ACL again.”

Sol stared at the puddle at his feet, the fluorescent lights of the ceiling reflecting in its trembling surface. Why is the water moving? Then he realized—It’s not the water. It’s me.

Danny gripped Sol’s shoulder. “Barry and Volya took him back to his room. He’s there with the doc and the physios.”

“But… But the trials are only three days away.” If Tony had re-injured his knee, there’s no way he could be ready for the trials or the Games. Something in the darkest corner of Sol’s mind, the corner that still hadn’t forgiven Tony for leaving, whispered, Isn’t this what you wanted? To clear the way for the guys who’ve been committed to the team all along?

Danny’s grip tightened. “The doc will figure it out. She’s the best.”

“I should go to him.” Sol stared at the water again. “But I should mop this up. It’s a safety hazard. Somebody could get hur—” His breath caught on something that might be a sob.

“I will take care of the spill,” Xiao said. “It’s time for you to eat something.”

“But Tony—”

“Will be with the medical team and the coaching staff for a while. They will not appreciate any interruption.” Xiao studied Sol, his head tilted to one side. “Perhaps Tony would prefer some time alone afterward. He may have some difficult decisions to make.”

Sol nodded, his feet seemingly glued to the mat. “God, his dad. Has anyone called him?”