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I do reasonably well on balance beam and uneven bars. I’m glad we added the extra difficulty into my bar routine. Maybe I even hated the dismount a little less today. Maybe.

I’m in second place as we head into the last rotation, floor exercise. As long as I don’t totally screw up, I really have a shot at winning this thing.

The sound of my music drifts through the huge arena. My nerves are gone as I dance and tumble across the large mat. One final tumbling pass and I’ll be finished. I put every ounce of power into my last tumbling run.

Too much power.

I land perfectly, feet slamming into the mat.

Out of bounds.

My heart sinks as I watch the judge raise the red flag alerting everyone to my mistake. I finish the routine with a plastic smile and walk off the podium.

Sam is upset. I don’t blame him. I didn’t spend all of this time and put in all of this work to lose for such a stupid mistake.

When my score is revealed, Sam grimaces. I immediately think of Dad and Maisy up in the stands. I don’t bother looking for them. I don’t want to see the disappointment firsthand.

Everyone else holds their own on floor. And when the competition is over, I still manage to medal. Just not the color I wanted. I stand on the lowest podium, the third place, bronze medal spot. Sam’s temper has cooled down. He says maybe next year will be my year. But my disappointment in myself doesn’t fade as quickly.

We all fly home together. Even the camera crew assigned to me is on our flight. I close my eyes and pretend to sleep the entire way. No matter what I’ve done lately, it seems like everything I’ve tried so hard to keep together is falling apart.

I want to be a good sister to Maisy and make up for my mom’s absence, but I’m failing miserably at that, she won’t even speak to me most days. I want to be a great
gymnast, but I have trouble keeping my footing just walking up a couple of steps. I want to be an incredible girlfriend to Trevor. But I can’t make him happy. And here I am, dreaming about some other guy that Trevor hates beyond words. I’m overwhelmed by the heaviness of it all.

Maybe I need to come clean to Trevor. Tell him that Grant and I are sort-of friends. Let the chips fall where they may. I ponder that thought while I feign sleep, but realize quickly that the chips will likely fall with Trevor breaking up with me. And despite our fights, I don’t want that to happen. I wish I could talk to Quinn about things, but she’d be so one-sided. She never liked Trevor to begin with. If she knew what was going on behind the scenes, she’d never let it go. Tess would be a good confid
a
nt, but I barely see her anymore now that she and Elliott are dating. And could I really trust her not to tell Quinn?

We get home late. Dad says I don’t have to go to school in the morning, so naturally, Maisy is upset that the same offer doesn’t apply to her. I debate whether to go or not as I fall asleep. I know one thing for certain— I won’t be going to gym in the morning.

I don’t make it out of bed early the next morning. In fact, I don’t make it out of bed before lunch. I wake up with the sun streaming heavily through the thin curtains—a dead giveaway I’ve overslept. I tilt the alarm clock so that I can read it. 2:25 P.M. I groan and grab my cell phone off of the night stand.

Seven missed calls.

One is from Quinn and Tess both chiming in on speaker phone, full of laughter and happiness. Asking if I’m okay and congratulating me on my medal.

There are six messages from Trevor.

I glance at the clock again. School will be out soon and I don’t want to be sitting at the house if any unsolicited visitors decide to stop by. I throw on some clothes, brush my teeth and bolt out the door.

I purposely leave my cell on my bed. Relief settles in deeper as I watch my house shrink in the rearview mirror. I have no clue where I’m going. I just roll down the window and let the thick air fill the car. It blows my hair into a knotted mess and clears my head. It feels amazing. Most of all, it feels
real.

No Trevor. No Sam. No cameras.

I drive around aimlessly for hours, until the sun starts to set. I decide I’d better get home before my dad calls out a search party. He always gets anxious when I’m gone and don’t leave a note. I hadn’t intended on being gone so long. But I did come to a few conclusions as I drove around.

Decision one
i
s that Grant had been a good friend to me. And for whatever reason, I c
a
n’t walk away from our friendship. Even if he didn’t initially tell me about who his mom is. I felt a strong connection to him. One that I’m not willing to give up. Trevor will have to find a way to accept it. I hope.

Second, I love Trevor. I want things to be good with us again. I want to make him happy. And I’m going to be honest with him. I’m going to tell him about my friendship with Grant. I have to make him see that we’re just friends. That I’m one-hundred-percent committed to him. And no one will sway that.

Third, I can’t put my finger on it, but the last few months, I really feel like I’ve lost a part of myself. Maybe Trevor and Grant were both right (for different reasons)
;
maybe the documentary was a bad idea. It will be over soon. And somehow, I’ll get
me
back.

I wake up early the next morning. Sam did say I could take the rest of the week off from gym, but I’m feeling lazy and sore, so I decide to go in for a short workout anyway. Plus, the extra time I’ll have to get my thoughts in order will be a good thing.

When I got home
the
night
before
, I didn’t check my phone for missed calls. I wasn’t ready to deal with anyone. I even purposely get to school just before the bell rings. It’s become a habit of trying to avoid having to see anyone on my way to class lately. Unfortunately, my plan doesn’t work and Trevor is waiting for me right outside of my first class.

I slow my walk when I see him standing by the door. He’s leaning against the wall, his hands shoved into his jeans pockets. He has sunglasses on so I can’t see his eyes, but still, he looks a little sad. I immediately regret ignoring him the last couple of days. Even if I am thankful for the time I’ve had to get my thoughts in order, seeing him so down makes me second
-
guess all of my decisions. I’m slightly relieved to see that his face brightens when he spots me.

“Hey!” he says, walking up to meet me.

“Hi,” I say, nervously. I pick at a piece of my sweater that’s unraveled a bit, trying my best to avoid eye contact.

“Where’ve you been? I’ve been so damn worried about you. I called and called. I even stopped by your house last night but your dad said he didn’t know where you were. What’s going on?” He speaks so quickly that all of his words run together and his brief smile fades.

“I’m sorry about that. I was just so disappointed about not doing so well at Nationals. I didn’t want to face anyone right away.” It’s true.

He ponders this for a minute.

“I saw that you screwed up. Sorry you lost,” he says. His choice of words
is
a
stinging barb to my heart.

“Listen, I’m gonna be late for class,” I motion toward the classroom door.

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he pulls me in close and crushes his mouth onto mine. It’s a way heavier kiss than is appropriate for school.
I try to pull away, but he pulls back tighter, pressing his mouth harder onto mine
.
The warmth of his lips is familiar, and yet somehow, it’s forced.
Raw. Urgent. He finally releases me and flashes a broad, satisfied smile. I’m momentarily confused by his expression until I see Grant pause at the door before walking into class. The kiss and the smile all make perfect sense. They weren’t for my benefit, but for Grant to see.

I glare up at Trevor. He’s still smirking.

“Bye,” I say firmly and walk away from him.

“Syd!” he calls after me. He grabs my hand and spins me back toward him. I don’t want to fight. I just want to go to class.

“Don’t be upset. I just missed you. I just got carried away.” He looks at me with an apologetic
smile that,
if I didn’t know him better
, would
appear sincere. But I know he isn’t sorry.

“Okay. I really have to go,” I say. I want to go home and go back to bed. I should have known that coming today would be a mistake.

“I love you.” He’s totally oblivious to my mood.

“Love you,” I stand on my tip-toes and peck him on the cheek.

Grant is already sitting down, reading as usual. I honestly don’t have a clue what to say to him. I feel like an idiot
because
of Trevor’s
little production just now. Especially after the last time we really talked. That bus ride home seem
s
like eons ago. I’m relieved when he only glances up and smiles quickly before looking back down at his book. Maybe silence is better for us.

Mrs. Drez calls the class to order and begins her lecture. I take better notes today than I think I ever have. I’m nervous and want to concentrate on something other than Trevor or Grant.

The entire period is filled with uncomfortable silence. All of the things we want to say hang above us.  Obvious. I
want
to apologize for the PDA. But logically, what would I be apologizing for? Trevor’s my boyfriend, I wasn’t doing anything wrong. Why does it feel wrong when it comes to Grant? I make my way for the door as soon as the bell rings.

I’ve just made it to the door when I feel someone clutch my elbow.

“Hey,” I say to Grant. I shrug out of his light grip.

“Hi, Syd. I know we left things kind of weird with my mom and—” He runs his hand over the scruff on his cheek.

“Stop. It’s okay,” I say. I don’t want to hold on to anymore anger about anything.

He sighs and looks relieved. “And you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I watched your competition on TV. You did amazing! Congratulations.” His polite offer of congratulations makes me frown.

“What’s with the frown?” he asks.

“Um, I’m not sure you were watching the right thing. I sort of lost, Grant.” I say.

“Sydney, Sydney, Sydney,” he laughs and shakes his finger as if he’s scolding me. “I would hardly call being the third best gymnast in the entire
c
ountry losing. Why are you so damn hard on yourself?”

“Yeah, but…” I start. Before I can finish, he presses his warm index finger to my lips to shush me. Immediately my eyes dart nervously around the campus to see if Trevor…or
anyone
is watching. I lightly brush his finger away from my face and don’t finish my sentence.

“So, we’re okay now, right?” he asks.

“Yep.” I smile.

“Hey, what are you doing tonight?” he asks as if he hasn’t even noticed my uneasiness. I’m glad we’re off the subject of gymnastics, but the new question has totally caught me off
-
guard.