A/N: Ok, this is my first attempt at writing something for this show. I fell in love with it about a month ago and I'm from Canada, so we're kind of behind in the broadcasting and such. So this is set during the end of 'A Rock and A Hard Place'. Yes, we're still all the way back there…
So I think the end of this should have been extended… just a few seconds. And I wanted to see the other girls' reactions to Emily not being allowed to go to nationals.
Disclaimer: not mine.
I left his office in a daze. I wasn't going to Nationals. I hadn't listened, and I wasn't going to Nationals. I stepped numbly down the stairs to the waiting semi-circle of Lauren, Payson, and Kaylie.
"What happened?" Kaylie asked, clearly concerned.
I tried to speak, to say anything, but at first no sound came out.
"You're not… You're not being kicked out, are you?"
"I don't know," I whispered, finally finding my voice. That much was true. I didn't know. Sasha had told me to go home, but he hadn't told me to come back. "He said I'm not going to Nationals."
Kaylie's eyes widened in disbelief. "He said what?"
"Well, I don't blame him," Lauren scoffed. I really hate her.
"Lauren!"
"What? She didn't listen to him. I wouldn't want to take a gymnast that's unreliable to Nationals," Lauren rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. She was right, of course. But at least Payson and Kaylie had the decency to look offended for me.
Payson hadn't said anything. She's like that. Payson's always the reasonable, neutral one. She never gets in the middle of anything; always sitting in the background, observing, but never offering up her own opinions. Not unless it's something she wants to get in the middle of.
"Ladies! Let's go!" Sasha's voice cut through whatever might have been said next.
I cringed, and Kaylie threw me a sympathetic look before turning to go find her parents. Lauren followed quickly after, not caring much to be in my presence if she didn't have to. Payson stood by a little longer than the other two, not entirely sure what to say.
"Good job today, Payson. You were amazing," I said, hoping not to sound too down. She really had done an amazing job.
"Thanks," The blonde muttered, a slight flush in her cheeks. But as she turned to walk away, I noticed a slight limp in her step. It was probably nothing. After all, she was Payson Keeler. Nothing could stop her.
I started back toward the door of The Rock, suppressing another cringe at the radiant face of my mother.
"Oh honey! You were so good out there! I am so-"
"I'm not going to Nationals, Mom," I cut her off.
She paused, "What?"
"Sasha said I'm not going to Nationals."
"Well why on Earth not?"
"Because I didn't listen to him. I wasn't supposed to try that landing."
"But that's no excuse-"
"Yes, it is. I didn't listen to him. I should have. Can we just go?"
She looked like she wanted to say something else, but shut her mouth and followed me out to the car.
The ride home was dead silent. I guess my mother figured it would be better to leave me to my thoughts than try to say anything just yet. I kind of wished she would talk, just so I wouldn't have to think.
The fact of the matter was that Sasha's punishment wasn't the only thing bothering me.
He said he'd be there. He specifically asked if he could come, and then he didn't show. I don't understand Damon Young at all. One day he's there, the next he's not. He spends all his time trying to confuse me.
He gave me that CD, and he asked me if he could come to the invitational. I listened to the CD last night, and as much as I hate to admit it, it's awesome. That's what confuses me most. He goes and does something almost sweet like that, and then pulls a total jerk move and doesn't come today.
Thinking about everything all at once is giving me a headache. I leaned my forehead against the cool glass of the car window and focussed on breathing.
In. Out. In. Out.
Damon. Sasha. Damon. Sasha.
I groaned in frustration; they just wouldn't go away.
I was spared having to spend another minute in that insufferable silence by my mother pulling the car into the driveway. I was out and headed into the house before she even put it in park.
The knock on the front door interrupted my mother's second attempt at consoling me. Her false cheeriness and over-the-top optimism just wasn't cutting it. I couldn't wish my way out of this one.
She got up to answer the door, and I fell back on the bed, exhausted. I just wanted to sleep and wake up tomorrow morning to find this was all some hideous nightmare.
"Oh! Look who's here!"
At the sound of my mom's too-chipper voice, I raised my head from the bed just enough to see -who else- Damon Young. He stood on the stoop, his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, looking slightly guilty. My heart betrayed me, leaping in my chest of its own accord at the sight of him.
"Hey. How was the meet?" The coarseness of his voice sent a small shiver down my spine. Damn him.
"Why do you care?" I snapped, moving to stand in the door. He had taken a small step toward it in order to see me from my position on the bed. I wasn't about to let him in anymore than he'd already managed.
He sighed, frustrated, "Listen, I'm sorry I wasn't there."
"Yeah, well, to be honest I didn't even notice," I lied, clenching my jaw.
He dipped his head to study the floor for a moment before looking back up to meet my eyes, holding something out to me from inside his pocket.
"I got this today. Razor sent it to me to give to you."
He avoided eye contact as I skimmed over the words scrawled along the back of the postcard from Omaha. My heart fluttered weakly before flopping in my chest. This was why he hadn't shown. Because of Razor. His best friend. His best friend that liked me.
"Ok… So… Bros over hoes. I get it." All those years of putting on a brave face were finally paying off. He shook his head slightly in disbelief. "Still a pretty lame excuse, as a 'friend' y'know?"
"That's the thing, Emily," He said, finally looking me in the eye, "I don't think I can just-"
He cut off suddenly, looking away, gathering courage to voice whatever it was he wanted to say next.
He sighed heavily, "I don't think I can just be your friend."
I felt my jaw slacken and my legs go slightly weak at his admission. His eyes bored into mine, smouldering with the intensity of his honesty.
His jaw clenched and unclenched several times, like he wanted to say or do something more, and I ran my finger along the edge of the postcard. Finally, he seemed to decide against his instinct and pushed off from the doorframe.
"No." His quiet confirmation of what he'd just told me echoed in my mind as he turned away, retreating back the way he'd come, leaving me standing in the open doorway, staring numbly after him. The earlier feeling that encased me as I left Sasha's office swirled around once more, trapping me in its midst.
Damon paused at the end of the walk, turning back to look at me. His eyes filled with something close to a wistful regret, he nodded, once, and then was gone.
The postcard fell from my grip and fluttered to the ground at my feet as I surveyed the darkness of outside.
"Then don't," I whispered to the empty street, wishing I'd had the nerve to say it earlier.
A/N: So, what did you think? I haven't seen the rest of the show as of yet, but i've heard some whisperings about what goes on... i must say that Emily and Damon are so much better than her and Razor... Funny, considering i was such a big Razor fan at the start... and what happened to Leo? He disappeared...