She spun into her last turn and landed perfectly on her toes, arms in an arch over her head. The music faded with a series of trills, and Payson Keeler beamed brightly.
After breaking her back and being told by dozens of doctors that she would never, ever return to the world of gymnastics that had become her life, she had defied them all and come back. Perfecting her new floor routine in a new style was just the beginning. In the minutes she had performed, she saw herself in her old dream of performing for the Olympic judges, in a second she saw herself perform perfectly a routine she would never have envisioned for herself six months ago. Her body glowed.
Sasha clapped and cheered, and even though he was just one man, she felt the entire Olympic stadium on their feet, cheering for her. He picked her up and spun her around, and Payson felt happier then she ever had in her entire life. When he set her back on her feet, she felt braver then ever, and she grabbed Sasha's neck, pulled herself up to his face, and kissed him.
She knew what she was doing was so wrong, but she did it anyway. Just as they touched, Sasha pushed her away.
She knew. She knew it was wrong, and she knew he had every right to push her away, but it still stung. She saw the shocked look in his eyes as he held her firmly by the shoulders. And in a moment of a sheer panic, Payson Keeler turned and ran for her life.
"Payson!" she heard him call, but he remained where he was. She left her gym bag in her locker and ran the two miles home, her eyes stinging with hot tears of panic, frustration, and rejection.
She sat down on the curb outside her house. She couldn't go inside like this, or her mom would certainly ask questions. She didn't want anyone to know. You stupid, stupid idiot.
Payson took a deep breath. A pair of bright headlights turned onto the street. It was dark, but not enough that she didn't recognize a familiar pickup truck. She was too embarrassed to face Sasha, but knew she couldn't run now. He had already seen her, and she couldn't very well avoid him at The Rock.
He pulled up next to her and rolled down the window. "Payson? May I speak to you?"
I might as well as get this over with.
"Yes, Sasha?"
"Payson, are you okay?" he asked. There was genuine concern in his voice.
"Yeah, I'm fine." Payson responded gruffly, masking the evident tears.
"Payson," he struggled to find words, "go home. Get some sleep. We can talk about this tomorrow."
"No," she said, firmly. "No, I don't want to talk about it. Not tonight, not tomorrow, not ever."
And she went inside with at least a small shred of her dignity.