Chapter Seventeen:

She had been serious when she had told Jason that she meant to try out for gymnastics. She had been on their high school team, had even lettered in the sport. Barbara's father had always approved of it, saying that it was "good for her reaction time." So, when she got the email that tryouts were to be held one Thursday afternoon, after most classes had ended, she asked to be excused from her work shift. The librarians were more than accommodating, saying that if it was school related, since the work program was also school related, that anything related to such was put first. They wished her luck and sent her off.

Barbara still had her old high school leotard—a white, long sleeved version with splashes of red in glittering swirls on the upper half—and was more than pleased to find that it still fit. She knew it was only a matter of months since she had last worn it, but she also knew better than anyone that a lot can happen in only a matter of months. The gym was located across the road from some of the university's dorms, and she used a tunnel that was fairly newly constructed under the road to cross. There was a fair number of girls lined up in the lobby of the gym. On the far left, near the end of the line, there was a table set up, a young woman maybe only one or two years older than Barbara seated behind it. She grinned up at Barbara as she approached, gesturing toward a clipboard.

"Fill out the info block and then get in line, please. The coach will call you all in when she's ready," she said with bright and bubbly authority.

Barbara thanked her and did as requested. The blonde girl showed her where she set her bags—behind the concession stand—as she joined the line. She reached up, straightening her high ponytail, and shuffled her feet. She did some small stretches—as some of the other girls were doing—and generally tried not to think too hard about what she was actually doing here. Tryouts always made her jittery, even though she knew she was more than good enough to be on this team. She wasn't one to brag, but she had worked hard to be as good as she was. Surely, it was okay to enjoy the fruits of one's labors once in a while?

Her phone, in the pocket of the short gym shorts she wore, sounded with the familiar text tone that indicated Jason was the one messaging her. She smiled, pulling it free. It was a message of three thumbs-up, followed by "you got this" with at least ten exclamation points and three more thumbs-up. Jason had offered to accompany her, but after the scene with the parking deck attendant—not to mention her already messed up nerves—she had decided that a little time alone was exactly what she needed. She still sort of felt like Joker's eyes were everywhere, and she hated it. She made a mental note to bring it up with him the next time she saw him. It had been about week, and she had been really tight-lipped about her personal life to her own boyfriend. She hadn't even told him about this tryout. A part of her told her that she was being crazy… while the other part was screaming and waving red flags.

Barbara was dragged out of her own whirling thoughts as the doors to the gym opened and the line of students were filed in, ordered by another member of the team to stand along the closed bleachers. Out on the floor, it had been definitely set up for a gymnastics tryout, mats, beams, bars, and all. After a few moments where people filed in and rustled about in place, a woman dressed in a red and white wind suit, the jacket unzipped to reveal a dark gray shirt underneath, moved to stand out in front of the line. She faced all of the prospective athletes, eyeing them all with a gaze as gray as her shirt, and steely in its stare. Her short auburn hair was curly to the point of bushy, and she was wore a ball cap—Barbara suspected—just to tame it.

"I'm Coach Steader," she barked, bringing all fidgeting and chatter to an immediate halt. "Here's how this is gonna go. When I call your name, you're gonna come up to me, I'm gonna tell you what I want you to do, and they you're gonna do it. Afterword, you're gonna go back out to the lobby and wait. Got it?"

Generally, people murmured their assent, and she nodded, pleased. "Good. Let's begin. In order of sign-ups… Joseph, Garret."

Barbara waited and watched as no less than twelve people went before her, performing on each piece of equipment as requested. Finally, her name was called. She approached the coach, who then told her to do a routine on the pommel horse. Barbara had to suppress a grin. The pommel horse and the floor exercises had probably been the reasons she had letter. Schooling her features into neutrality, she nodded once. She performed the last routine she had ever done on the horse in high school and was done in minutes. She stuck her landing, and the coach scratched some notes on her clipboard. Barbara made her way out into the lobby, trying her best not to scurry.

She distracted herself by scrolling through her phone. Joker, she saw, had sent her a text informing her that he was busy tonight with book promoting. Apparently, he was doing a signing at a bookstore downtown. She texted him back her love and wished him good luck. She still refrained from mentioning that she was trying out. He responded within moments with his love and a "see you soon… I hope."

The lobby around her was filling quickly, and before long, Barbara was sure that that had to be everyone. She put her attention on the doorway into the gym proper, anxiously awaiting the appearance of Coach Steader. Finally, when the bushy-haired woman appeared, she announced, in her bark of a voice, "Listen up! When I call your name, I want you to march up those stairs and line up outside the office door. I'll call you in one by one, and you'll probably know by the end of the conversation whether you made the team or not. The rest of you, if you're name isn't called, better luck next year."

Barbara felt her stomach clench, and the coach lost no time calling out names. Barbara nearly jumped out of her own skin when she heard her own name called third. She turned, all but bolting up the stairs—which had been previously blocked by the sign-up table—after the first two called students. The office was easy enough to find, as it was the only one up there with a door—the coach's name was on a plaque on the door. After several moments, Barbara could hear a bunch of people leaving, and nine more people had joined her in line, totaling in twelve. She was sure if anxiety tightened the knot in her stomach any more she was going to implode on herself.

The coach stomped up the stairs, motioning for the first person in line to join her in the office as she went. She closed the door behind the student and the line moved up. Barbara resisted the urge to get out her phone, lest she appear disinterested, but she was desperate for something to do with her hands. She forced them down to her sides, grasping at the hem of her gym shorts as the first person called left, looking a touch glum.

"Next!" the coach called, and the girl in front of Barbara entered, shutting the door.

She was sure she was going to puke. She let her right hand raise to rest on her stomach, willing herself calm. The interview in front of her seemed to last longer than that of the guy that had been first in line. Finally, the girl before Barbara exited, all grins and giggles. The coach called, "Next!" and Barbara entered with a gulp she hoped wasn't audible.

She closed the door slowly behind her, and, without looking up, the coach motioned her into the chair across the desk from her.

"Barbara Gordon, is that right?" the coach asked.

"Th-that's right," she answered, sitting very literally on the edge of the seat.

The coach looked up at her, locking her steely gaze on her. She cocked her head just a little to the right, one brow arched.

"Would that be the same Barbara Gordon who is the commissioner's daughter and currently dating the Joker? The famous—or rather, infamous—Barbara Gordon?"

That knot really was closing in on "implosion" territory. Barbara nodded.

"Yes. Yeah, that's me."

"Hmm," the coach said, glancing down at the clipboard. "Well, you did great out there. Gymnastics in high school, I'm guessing?"

"I lettered, yeah."

"Huh. And what about your relationship?"

Barbara blinked, sinking back into her seat just a touch. "What about it?"

"I've seen you and him plastered all over the tabloids, on the papers… on the internet. I don't need that kind of craziness around while I'm trying to get a team trained. How do I know that zany lifestyle isn't going to follow you into my gym?"

Barbara blinked, desperately trying to keep her jaw off the floor. How was this possible? How was the fact that she was dating the Joker affecting her even here?

"I'm s-sorry. I swear, it won't…" she began, then stopped. Something inside her snapped. Sitting up a little straighter, Barbara locked eyes with the coach. "You know what? I'm not sorry. I am so damn tired of apologizing for dating who I want to date. So yes, I am dating the Joker. And no, it won't affect my time here. I'm a model student, and I love this sport. That's really all you need to know."

For a moment, the coach's expression didn't change. In her own head, Barbara was shrieking and chastising herself. On the outside, though, she kept her own face even. Finally, Coach Steader smiled. She flipped the clipboard in front of herself around, laying a pen down on it.

"Leave your email, Gordon. That way, I can email you the spring training schedule."

Barbara's eyes widened, and a bright grin broke over her. She snatched up the pen and did just that, standing and leaving. She was all grins as she heard the coach call for the next person in line. She hit the bottom of the stairs, scooping up her bags. She left the gym in her leotard and shorts, embracing the cold of the impending December, and feeling like she was on cloud nine.

She couldn't wait to tell everyone in her life that she had made the team… but, for now… this victory was just hers and hers alone.