Page 104 of It's Always Sonny

Then I take three strides toward the llama pen. Straw digs into my feet, but I barely notice. I plant my hands on the wooden railing, and jump. I swing one leg up and plant my foot, then I bring the other foot up and come to a stand. It’s not much different from a balance beam, and I’m a beast on a balance beam.

I’m steady as I walk across the thin wood plank until I reach a vertical pipe that separates one pen from the other. I hold on to the pipe and step around it easily. Then I keep walking across the beam until I’m close enough to the loft.

Sweetness’s bleats spur me on, filling me with urgency, but I have to tune out the fears pushing at the edges of my mind. I think of Sonny’s arm around me this morning, of breathing in sync with him. I hold on to that feeling of my lungs being blissfully, utterly full.

A long metal pipe runs directly above each of the pens. It connects all the way across the barn and is anchored to the vertical pipes that separate each pen. The pipe is just within my grasp, and the loft is only a few feet above and back from the metal bar. I stand on my toes and reach both hands to the bar overhead.

This is almost like uneven bars.

Unfortunately, I am not a beast on uneven bars. I’m a scared little girl worried my parents are watching, worried that I’ll fall, or worse, faint.

Sonny’s family can’t see me shaking.

I grab the pole, do a quick pike, and swing up into a kip.

“Holy crap. Is she an Olympian, or something?”

“Junior Olympian,” Sonny says. “Isn’t it hot?”

“Not helping,” I say between gritted teeth. I lean forward with the bar at my hips so that my body is almost parallel to the ground. Then I swing my legs forward as far as possible, almost folding my body in half before I swing my legs back and quickly squat down onto the bar.

Momentum is everything, so even though I’m acutely aware that falling from this height could put me in a full body cast, I move off it immediately and lunge the distance straight into the loft.

Unfortunately, the pipe doesn’t have the same bounce as a beam.

And I short it.

Most of me makes it onto the loft, but I smash into the edge, and one leg hangs down painfully.

Below me, Lucianos make concerned squeals and exclamations.

Adrenaline rips through my veins, and the rush of fear makes my vision darken and the sound around me fade.

No.

I cannot faint! Not here! Not now!

I’m panting with fear. Sweetness’s bleating is getting quieter as my hearing gets fuzzier and fuzzier.

My vision narrows like I’m entering a tunnel.

I’m so dizzy.

“PJ, you can do this!” Sonny’s yell cuts through the fog, spurring me forward.

With every ounce of strength left in me, I swing my other leg up and roll fully into the loft. My pulse explodes, my breathing comes in fast, short bursts, and my vision flickers as everything goes quiet.

I have to stay conscious.

I’m already lying down, but I tense the muscles in my hands, arms, feet, and legs, trying to send blood back to my head to keep from blacking out. It isn’t foolproof, but if my mother had known anything could help me avoid fainting, she never would have given me a moment of peace. It was a quiet act of rebellion.

I will it to work now.

Please.

And it does!

As my vision grows lighter and the fog in my head clears, I promise myself a lot more acts of rebellion in the future. If my parents and I have a future together at all.

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