Page 185 of Wish You Were Mine
The crowd exploded, and I powered into the next section of choreography, feeding off the energy. My body and the music were in sync. Every movement felt precise. Intentional. Alive.
But as I danced across the floor toward the final corner, my focus narrowed. One pass left.
Roundoff. Back handspring. Double full.
The pass that had haunted me earlier this season.
The one I couldn’t stick in January to save my life.
But not today.
I sprinted forward.
Pushed hard off the floor.
Launched into the twist.
And Istuck it.
No wobble. No hop. No hesitation.
Justperfect.
The arena erupted. It was a roar so loud it buzzed through my limbs. And while I could hardly hear the music as I finished the final few counts of choreography, my body knew what to do.
Tears blurred my vision before I even hit the final pose.
Because I knew I’d done it.
Not only had our team secured a spot in the finals, but I was pretty sure I’d just clinched the all-around national title.
I’d come back from an injury. From heartbreak.
From self-doubt and mental blocks and almost walking away so many times.
And I hadn’t just pushed through. I’d triumphed.
I struck my final pose as the music faded, holding it a breath longer than necessary before lifting my chin and looking up into the crowd again.
To my family.
To Owen.
I’d done it.
And everyone I loved was here to see it.
I barely made it off the floor before my teammates swarmed me with cheers and hugs, crying right along with me. But even with all the noise and adrenaline rushing through my body, there was only one thing on my mind.
The score.
Had I actually done it? Because nothing was sure until the score was announced.
My teammates, coaches, and I all linked arms at the edge of the floor, staring up at the giant scoreboard to see if my routine had been enough to take the title and secure us a spot in the finals.
The arena fell strangely quiet, as if the entire place was holding its breath with us.
Then the scoreboard lit up.
