“Cal!” he whispered, exasperated.

I bit my lip to stop my smile.

God, he was cute when he got annoyed. Maybe this was why he poked at me all the time.

When the girls moved through the scanner and out of eye and earshot, I scooted up behind him and fit my body to his.

“Sorry, dear,” I apologized insincerely.

He smiled and shook his head, turning to look at me. “What the hell was that?”

I shrugged and put both of my hands on his hips. “The girls have a little crush on you.”

He scoffed a laugh. “I’m pretty sure you can change that ‘have’ to past tense now.”

My smiled through a facial shrug. “Probably. Good thing my crush is still very much present.”

“Good thing, indeed,” he agreed, looking around before pecking me softly on the lips just one time.

His feet moved into an easy jog when I shoved him gently at the prompting wave of the screener. He held my eyes until he couldn’t anymore.

Hands above his head in the required position, the scanner scooted to one side and back again, and I used the brief window to admire the small strip of skin that had been exposed at the bottom of his t-shirt.

The process moved quickly, and I stepped into the machine just as a female TSA agent stepped forward to read my scan. Everything came back clear, and given permission to move on, I stepped forward to the conveyor belt and retrieved my belongings. Flip flops slipped on easily and my cross body bag passed easily over my head to settle on the opposite shoulder.

Nik was already halfway dressed, shoes on and his belt through the first three loops. My parents and the giggling set of girls stood ten feet away waiting.

I looked up to find my dad’s eyes watching closely, so I didn’t linger, instead scooting by a still dressing Nik and over to the waiting group.

One of the girls cleared her throat a couple of times after being pushed and prompted by the two others. I watched with curious disinterest until she finally got the courage to do what she intended.

It just so happened, the thing she intended was talking to me.

“Um, Calia?” she murmured timidly.

My eyes snapped into focus, taking in her sweet preteen face and the confident and mature way she held her body. In some ways, gymnastics forced you to grow up fast. It took more discipline than most adults could manage.

“Yeah…” I paused, hoping someone would fill in her name.

“Amanda!” all three girls answered at once.

I smiled. “You’re all named Amanda?”

Panicked eyes flashed between them as they hurried to explain.

“No!”

“No, just me.”

“She’s Amanda.”

“Right. Got it. So, just the one Amanda…what’s up?”

Her mouth curved up to frame her bright green eyes and a nervous hand reached up to twirl the end of her blond ponytail. “We were just wondering what it feels like to be in the Olympic trials.”

“Yeah! Is it intense?” one of the others chimed in.

“Are the other gymnasts nice?” Amanda added.

I took a minute to think about it. “It’s kind of the same as every other meet,” I said. “Sure, there’s pressure, but there’s always pressure. And yeah, I’ve never met anybody there who isn’t nice.”

As I spoke, I felt Nik come up behind me. He kept his distance, and all accounted for, the group started to walk. My dad started up a conversation with him, but I found it virtually impossible to pay attention to them and the girls at the same time.

“But isn’t it weird not to have your teammates there yelling for you and stuff?” the final one asked, speaking for the first time.

Almost at a loss, I tried to make the answer as upbeat as possible. “Well, I don’t know. I haven’t competed with a team there to root for me in a while. I guess it’s probably a little different.”

“We’ll root for you!” Amanda promised immediately.

“Yeah!”

“Totally!”

The others agreed. “We’ll make sure we yell real loud for you and everything,” Amanda promised.

Overcome with emotion, my eyelashes fluttered with an unstoppable series of blinks and my throat tightened noticeably. Maybe because I hadn’t expected it or I’d grown accustomed to going without it, but for some reason, the feeling of not only acceptance but friendship was so overwhelming it nearly brought me to my knees. I couldn’t believe how wrong I’d been about everything and everyone and the way I related to them.

And it kind of made me wonder what else I’d so strongly thought was right, was really all wrong.

Somehow, I forced a smile. “Thanks, guys. That’s…Well, that’d be really great.”

“You got it, Calia!”

Finally to our gate, they settled into their seats and my dad ended his conversation with Nik on a handshake. My mom settled in next to the girls with a book, and my dad headed off to the bathroom or to get food or something.

Nik came and sat next to me.

“What did my dad say to you?”

He could tell I was worried and shook his head. His voice was low. “He just told me that he sees a difference in your gymnastics. Thinks I’m doing a good job.”

“Wow.” I frowned a little. “He didn’t say anything to me.”

He usually didn’t though. He believed in punishment and critique but not so much in praise. I always kind of felt like it should be the other way around.

Nik tried to comfort me, doing so without touching me because of all of the prying eyes. “Hey.” I looked back to him. “He noticed, right? And now I’m telling you what a good job you’re doing. You don’t need him to say it to you.” He pushed his hands down the line of his thighs and sat back. “In fact, you don’t need me to say it to you either. All you need is to say it to yourself.”

“Thanks.”

“Besides,” he smirked. “I hear you got yourself an enthusiastic cheering section of eleven and twelve year old girls.”

“You heard what they said?”

“Couldn’t have tuned them out if I tried,” he laughed. “High pitched.”

I laughed. “Yeah, that’s a twelve year old thing too.”

He pretended to ring his ear with a shaking middle finger.

My dad moved to his seat beside my mom as our conversation came to a close, and with it came a change in our interaction. He kept his body angled away from me and the topic turned strictly to business.

He reminded me of all the skills I’d been doing really well with and what he thought to be the reasons, and I picked his brain on the things that seemed to give me trouble. My tumbling had been making steady improvements since I’d started tumbling with him at night. He had the best pointers and did a great job of explaining.

And when I was open to suggestion, he became endlessly patient. He didn’t expect me to get it in one go, and he didn’t get mad when I messed up.

He only did that when I stopped remembering who I was talking to and foolishly thought I knew better.

The sound of the gate check agent starting boarding forty-five minutes later was like music to my ears. I’d played it down with the girls, but the truth was, I was nervous. Big time.

People had expectations of me, and I had plenty of myself. This was my last shot at everything. My last Olympic trials, my last chance to do the best I possibly could.

I wasn’t eighty, but my time was up. My body didn’t have four more years to give, and more importantly, I didn’t want it to.

Once on the plane with Nik seated next to me, I relaxed. My dad was on the other side of the cabin several rows back, and I finally felt like I had some time to decompress. I wanted to be able to lean on Nik physically and emotionally, and for now, I had to do it in secret.

Nik leaned forward and reached into his bag, pulling out a smaller brown paper bag from inside. When he sat back in his seat, he turned to me and smiled his most boyish smile.

“What?” I asked, knowing something was up by the way he was acting.

“I got you something. Just…for a little extra good luck.”