by Burkey, Dana
“Good thinking,” someone replied. Suddenly, the flurry of everyone grabbing tubes was a bit overwhelming.
“Here, I have one for us,” Connor suggested, likely seeing the slightly panicked look on my face.
“Thanks,” I grinned, then began the climb to the slide platform.
The ride down the big slide was followed by dozens more rides. Again and again my friends and I raced up steps, waited in the shortest lines one could imagine for a park like Castaway Cove, then rode down in our double inner tubes. After the first ride with Connor, we stuck together the rest of the night. Thanks to being stunt partners with Jackson it had felt like I wasn’t getting as much time to hang out with Connor as I was used to. We still talked most days, and I got to see him at practice, but just getting to have fun riding all the different slides was something I didn’t realize I needed so much. Not to mention the fun of the night was a good way to keep me from thinking about Jackson, or worrying about whether or not I was going to work up the nerve to tell him how I felt.
“Is anyone else basically starving?” Lexi asked as we finally began loading back onto the busses a few hours later.
“Me,” I replied, placing a hand on my stomach for emphasis. “Ever since that nacho comment my stomach has been growling nonstop.”
“Sorry again,” Connor said with a laugh. “But I have a feeling there will be at least some kind of snack once we get back to the gym.”
“I can neither confirm or deny that,” Emma noted as several people looked her way.
“Not even a hint?” I asked, giving her my best pout.
“A hint?” She paused a moment to think about it before speaking again. “Let’s just say the night's not over quite yet.”
With a groan, I climbed up the bus steps and found an open seat. As my friends all filed in around me, I was a little surprised when Jackson slid into the spot next to me. Sure, he had been with the large group of us all evening, but it was the first time I was really face to face with him so to speak. Not knowing what to say to him, I busied myself with drying my hair with my towel.
“So after today, is the gym ever quite this fun again?” Jackson asked after enough silence had passed between us.
“Not quite,” I replied with a frown. “Although we get to do some fun theme nights once a month during practice. Camp is always basically the kick off for the harder work coming all season, so the coaches kind of go all out.”
“Hold on, harder work?” he replied in shock. “You mean it gets harder after this?”
“Kind of,” I said slowly. “For Nitro it pretty much stays the same, so in a way it feels easier since we get used to conditioning. But when I was on Blast my first year it felt way harder after camp. With TJ there’s not really an easy start to the season anymore. I think there might have been before, but after the pyramid fall at Worlds two years ago it’s all about pushing hard from day one.”
“That makes sense,” Jackson agreed easily. “And I guess second place last year proves it’s paying off. Especially since you totally got robbed. I mean, it was all anyone could talk about at my gym for weeks after Worlds.”
“Thanks, but I don’t know if we really got robbed,” I said simply.
“But you hit a perfect routine, even with a broken ankle,” he reminded me.
“True,” I nodded. “But even if we didn’t get the rings or the title we got the very thing we didn’t know we needed. We got a little taste of what winning will feel like with the attention we got, and it’s honestly made us all even more hungry. If we won we would be working hard, but we wouldn’t need to prove as much, so we might not be pushing as hard as we already are this season.”
Jackson didn’t reply right away, but instead simply looked at me for what felt like an eternity. In reality it was only a moment or two until the bus lights dimmed and we began rolling out of the parking lot. It took my eyes a second to get used to the lower lighting, but as we drove under the lamp posts in the parking lot, I could tell Jackson was still looking my way, only now with a grin on his face.
“What?” I asked, unable to read his expression.
“You just never cease to amaze me,” he said. His voice was much quieter than it had been a few seconds ago, as if to make sure I was the only one who heard what he had to say.
“Thanks,” I mumbled with a shrug. Then, before he could say anything or notice the bright red color creeping up on my face, I turned and looked out the window for the rest of the ride back to the gym.
To my delight there was not only nachos waiting for us at camp, but also a host of other snacks, all proudly set up by my dad and other parents. Loading up a heaping plate I got my fill before joining my friends outside to enjoy a movie projected onto the gym's walls. I sat near Jackson, but with Connor between us as a buffer. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to spend any more time with him, it was just that I was worried that if I started another conversation with him it would make me slip and admit everything. Sure, some people might have seen that as a good thing, but I was still on the fence about it. Thankfully I avoided any more moments like the one on the bus the rest of the evening.
“Why did we stay up so late again?” I asked my friends the following morning as we worked on our hair and makeup for the showcase. We had already spend part of the morning cleaning the gym and getting ready, but now it was time for a little primping before both our final practice and lunch.
“Because it’s tradition,” Emma reminded me with a grin.
“And because it’s fun,” Jade commented, her face serious as she worked on curling a section of her hair that wasn’t lying perfectly just yet.
“Maybe next year we can think of a new tradition.”
My comment likely wouldn’t hold up until next year’s TNT Force camp, but it was a nice consolation all the same. I had yawned easily a dozen times while we grabbed breakfast, went over the dance routine we had worked on all weekend, and then finally as we moved all of the overnight bags into the parent viewing room so there would be space to set up chairs later. Thankfully we finished with enough time to start getting ready, although for me that just meant straightening my hair and then waiting while my friends piled on layer upon layer of hairspray and curls. Emma had been trying to convince TJ that people should be allowed to wear hairpieces to make getting ready a lot faster, but he was adamant that either the whole team wore them or no one did. Or rather, the whole team except me since my hair was too short for much more than a half ponytail.
Either way, it wasn’t too long before someone called into the bathroom to let us know that practice for all of the Worlds teams was beginning. The rest of the makeup work and even putting on our uniforms wouldn’t come until after lunch, but anyone who needed to do lots of curls did the prep work ahead of time so that everything was ready on time for the showcase. Part of me wished we were once again only wearing the practice shorts and shirts we designed during camp, but I knew how important it was for all three Worlds teams to look competition ready as Detonators received the first Worlds rings ever for the TNT Force gym.
“So, how are you feeling about stunts today?” Connor asked me as I finally exited the bathroom with my friends and we made our way to where the rest of Nitro was gathering.
“I’m not sure,” I said honestly. “But hopefully the time spent having fun last night will make me not stress as much.”
“Hopefully,” he said simply, although he looked a little worried as well. Before I could ask him about it, TJ called us over for a quick chat before practice.
“We want to make sure we hit everything clean today for our families. If that means we have to mark things then we will,” he explained in a very serious and straightforward tone. “If stunts hit this morning then we perform them on the mat this afternoon. But if they don’t show consistency, then we mark them so we can make a clean showing of the stunts we do run full out.”
I stared at TJ in stunned silence, knowing he was mostly talking to me. There were a few other stu
nts that from time to time didn’t hit perfect, but nothing compared to my current inability to stay in the air. As we all spread out and began some basic warm ups, I could feel the eyes of many of my fellow athletes looking my way. I tried to ignore them, but as we finished warming up tumbling I suddenly had to face the music. Or rather the stunts.
“You can do this Max,” Jackson said to me, placing a hand on the small of my back for emphasis. Even with my teal tank top on instead of my usual sports bra, his contact with me gave me an instant chill. “We’re right here under you, promise.”
“Okay,” I nodded, not sure how else to reply.
The truth was, I wasn’t feeling too great about the stunts. Just being next to Jackson was already making me feel antsy and nervous about going into the air. We started by running some single around stunts, my stunt group lifting me while I twisted in a full circle before being held high above their heads. I was shaky, but holding everything well enough. The problem was, these was followed by even more difficult stunts. Which were followed by one-on-one stunts with Jackson. Which were followed by the more elaborate stunts I did with my team that involved me hopping from one foot to the other, all while holding my foot near my head in a variety of moves. That was the plan at least. I struggled over and over again, not able to stay steady in the air or standing at all in some cases. Each time I fell, it felt like a nail in my coffin. Before I even got the news, I knew what was coming, even if I wasn’t happy about it.
“Get some water then we’re going to run it full out,” TJ called out. It was after we walked through the rest of the stunts, followed by baskets and a pyramid. “Max, can I have a word.”
“I can do this,” I said, louder than expected without moving toward my coach.
“In a few weeks, sure,” he replied, his face not quite matching his tough tone.
“Today,” I said with the shake of my head. “I can do it today.”
“But you haven’t, so-”
“I know I can do it,” I said, cutting of Juleah who spoke up as well.
“Max,” TJ tried again. The look on his face was one I had seen once before, just as I was taking the final stage at Worlds. Only this time, I knew he wasn’t going to cave and let me perform full out like he had back then. “You know I believe you. Not just that, but I really believe in you. But this isn’t Worlds or going for a bid or even a real competition. This is a showcase. A time to show parents what we plan to do this season and also celebrate Detonators as they get their rings. I don’t want you to showcase anything but your best, and with your injury as an out, no one is even going to ask why you aren’t performing everything.”
“So, you mean I fake and pretend I’m not flying because I’m still hurt?” My stunt group was still standing with me despite the instructions to get water. I knew this was partly because it affected them, but mostly because they wanted to show support for me no matter what.
“I mean, give yourself a little more time to hit everything in front of people, so you don’t have to stress as much and can enjoy the day instead.”
“But-”
“No,” he said again, shaking his head as he spoke. “We mark the skills so it’s a clean run. Whether from your ankle or other things, you’re just not quite there yet. Clearly we need to have more time to make things hit before trying to show off the routine.”
I noticed TJ glance quickly at Jackson when he said it was my ankle or ‘other things,’ but thankfully no one else seemed to notice. As TJ walked away, my stunt team tried to encourage me, but they knew as well as I did that not much could be said in that moment. I wasn’t going to be performing to the level we all knew I could, and it was my fault. They all assumed it was due to my injury or a mental block, but I knew the real reason. With Jackson cheering next to me and my bottled up feelings causing the drama, there was no way to be sure that it would all level out and fix itself as soon as I would like. So, like it or not, it was time I talked to Jackson. And fast.
Most people who know me would agree that I’m not good at keeping secrets. Not because I have to tell everyone, but because the stress of actually admitting the truth in the end always caused me a lot of panic. When I was injured going into Worlds I often dealt with a lot of word vomit because I was stressing out about not telling my coach about my injury. Even when I was younger I had faced the same problem. The worst time being when I cleaned my room by pushing everything under my bed. It was a moment of annoyance at not being allowed to go play with my friends, but when my mom came to check and saw how quickly I cleaned my room and how great it looked, the guilt started eating me alive. After playing with my friends, I found out she bought ice cream as a celebration of how responsible I had been, and before I could even enjoy a bite I was in tears from how bad I felt for lying to my mom. In the end I re-cleaned my room, and my parents enjoyed all the ice cream without me. Not an easy lesson to learn, but my panic over feeling so guilty wouldn’t let it go any other way.
As we finished our third run-through of the morning, all I could think about was the feeling of telling my mom the truth about my room, and the emotions I experienced when I realized that TJ had found out about my injury from someone other than myself. Speaking of TJ, he was watching me like a hawk, clearly not pleased about my less than thrilled expression to be marking the routine. Part of my stress was because I didn’t like not being able to try the stunts I knew I was fully capable of executing. But the real reason was suddenly face to face with me as I left the mat to get ready for lunch.
“Maybe we can practice this coming week to make up for not being able to run everything full out,” Jackson offered, a look of concern on his face. Clearly my emotions were easy to read, even if the reason behind them wasn’t.
“Sure,” I said, then continued before I could chicken out. “Can we talk for a minute?”
“Of course,” he said.
With a simple wave of my hand I walked toward the back of the mat so I was standing near the mirror. The athletes from Nitro and other teams that were still in the gym were making their way outside where lunch was no doubt waiting based on the smells floating through the air. I saw from my reflection that my face was a bit pink from working out, so I hoped that it would mask any blush that decided to show up on my face. I also noticed my bow was a little off center on top of my head, and quickly adjusted it before turning to see Jackson standing just a few feet away from me with a rather confused look on his face.
“So, what’s up?” he asked simply.
“I just wanted to explain something to you,” I started, not really having any idea where to go from there. “I’m just really struggling with my stunts. Nothing is hitting and it’s really annoying and everything, since it’s like I can’t control it at all. My brain just won’t focus and do what needs to happen.”
“Your injury is still pretty fresh,” Jackson reminded me. “Not to mention people get mental blocks all the time.”
“That’s not what this is,” I answered, my panic growing by the second. “Well, more or less. It’s kind of like I know what I need to do, I just can’t make it happen when it matters.”
“Which is how a lot of mental blocks work,” he commented with a bit of a smile.
“No,” I tried again, my nerves turning to annoyance by the second. “It’s not a mental block. I can hit the skills with Connor under me totally fine.”
“Oh.” The comment was over almost before it began, but based on the look on Jackson’s face it said a lot. He looked so completely dejected, and knowing I caused it had my brain spinning faster than before.
“It’s not that though,” I found myself suddenly rambling. “You can do everything just fine. From what I’ve seen, you do a really good job, I’ve just been with the same people for a long time and I think I trust them more. Not that I don’t trust you. I really do. I just… can’t.”
“So, let me get this straight,” he began, his brow furrowed as he spoke. “I’m a good base, but not good enough? And you should be a
ble to trust me, but you just can’t? Since apparently me being in your stunt group makes you have a mental block?”
Looking at Jackson, I realized I was going about this all wrong. I was saying all the wrong things in all the wrong ways, and the longer I spoke the worse it became. It was like I was in a sinking ship and every time I tried to bail a bucket full of water out, I was dumping most of it right back into the boat. All I could do was make a leap out of the boat all together, and pray that I would be able to stay afloat.
“You’re not the problem, I am,” I finally said, balling my fists at my sides. “I can’t do anything right on the mat since you joined my stunt team.”
“Because you can’t trust me, I know.”
“No, because you’re a distraction,” I replied quickly, finally saying what I knew I needed to all along. “I like you. And I was hoping as I got to know you it would go away but it has only gotten worse. And now I can’t focus on stunts because I think about every time you look at me and talk to me. Even when you put your hands on my waist to get ready for a stunt it’s too much for me to just do what I know I can do any other time. I thought I could just push through it and move on or whatever, but the other girls at the gym keep talking about how cute you are and how much they like you and I just get distracted all over again. I don’t really know how to fix it, or what to do next, but I want to just make things go back to normal so I can cheer like before.”
I had my eyes squeezed shut for most of the time that I spoke, but when I opened them I had no idea what to make of the look on Jackson’s face. His expression was a mixture of so many emotions, and he seemed to be at a loss for words. All I could do was stand there and look at him, and it made me more and more anxious by the moment. With every passing second, I could also feel the emotions building up inside of me. I was nearing my breaking point when Jackson finally spoke.
“Max, I don’t know what to say,” he began, his expression still hard to read. “I really didn’t expect this.”