Payson felt the pleasant tension of her muscles extending, flexing and stretching as she balanced between two mats, pushing the limits of her flexibility, every millimeter she pushed rang like bells in her mind for hundredths of a point, her toes flexed and then pointed as she closed her eyes, imagining herself in a grand jeté, head thrown back, arms fully extended through and past the tips of her fingers.
One of the mats shifted just slightly, taking a weight that hadn't been on it before and she opened her eyes to see Austin sitting there, a thoughtful expression on his face.
"What's up?" she asked, pushing up out of the stretch and reversing her legs, trying to maintain the same level of flexibility. "I can practically see the wheels turning in your head."
He raised his eyebrows and smirked, "I've been thinking," he said, though he kept his voice low. "I think I'm going to New York."
She tilted her head at him, trying to measure his seriousness, "What are you talking about?"
"When Sasha starts up his new gym, in New York, I'm going with you guys."
Payson shook her head, confused, "Austin, I…are you sure you want to leave Boulder?" They both knew that wasn't her actual question. What she really was asking was, are you sure you want to leave Kaylie?
He nodded, though his eyes drifted towards the floor where Kaylie was stretching, "I came to the Rock to train with Sasha and refocus, figure out what I wanted and what I want is to keep training with Sasha and if that means moving to New York then so be it."
Payson bit her lip. She hadn't really thought about how their decision would affect other people, most notably the men that trained at the Rock, not just Austin, but Carter and Nicky as well. This was the final Olympic cycle for all the girls, but the men were just hitting their peaks physically. They would all have another cycle, maybe two barring injury to compete on the Olympic track.
Austin followed her gaze as she studied the other two young men in question, both chalking their hands for the parallel bars. "I wouldn't worry too much about those two. The college coaches have been circling for a while. I know Russo's been talking about Stanford and Carter should have gone last year, but he was waiting until after the games. Oklahoma's been after him for years now."
"He stayed for Lauren," Payson muttered. "Second verse same as the first." Lauren and Carter were officially over, this time for good, apparently, though Payson was waiting to reserve judgment since they'd broken up and reconciled at least five times since they'd officially became a couple just prior to the French Invitational almost two years ago.
"It'll be good for him to get away," Austin said, his tone confident. "It'll be good for me too."
She nodded, feeling marginally better, pushing up out of her stretch completely and standing, shaking out her muscles.
"Plus, Odette's agency has a major office in New York, so she's thinking about changing her base to the East Coast," Austin added casually, but she knew that the last thing it was, was casual.
"Really?" she asked, a smirk spreading across her face. Payson liked the French model, she was sweet and treated Austin well, something she couldn't say for Kaylie, despite the fact that she was rooting for them.
He shrugged, "It makes the trip home for her three thousand miles instead of six and there's more high fashion opportunity in New York."
"Mmm," she agreed, completely disregarding his words, letting her smile grow. "She loves you."
Austin stared at her blankly and then rolled his eyes, "Not everything is love, Pay."
She snorted and shook her head, "The girl is moving across the country to be with you. She loves you."
"Maybe," he admitted finally, "or maybe she can't imagine living without my sweet lovin'."
That was just too much for Payson who burst out laughing, tears gathering quickly in her eyes.
Austin did his best to look mortally offended, but he couldn't keep a straight face for long, joining her.
"Tucker, Payson, get going," Sasha barked from across the gym and they both attempted to stifle their laughter as they'd drawn the attention of nearly every gymnast training.
"Sorry, my fault," Austin called back, patting Payson on the shoulder as he moved off to the still rings and she walked purposefully towards the beam, standing next to Sasha as he watched Lauren work through her routine solidly.
"Did he tell you?" he asked her quietly, not taking his eyes off of Lauren's form. "Point your toes, Lauren, I shouldn't have to remind you two weeks before the Olympic games," he called out and Lauren's toes immediately pointed.
"Yeah," she said, pulling her leg up behind her, stretching her quads. "Looks like your gym is off to a decent start."
"That's the understatement of the year," he muttered, "Excellent Lauren," he said, louder, as she landed her triple twist dismount.
"Thanks," Lauren said with a smile and then mouthing, "silver" at Payson who laughed.
"Odette's going with him," she said, releasing her stretch and moving towards the beam.
She watched Sasha's eyes flick over to Kaylie who was working through her floor routine, solidly landing her double arabian tumbling pass, before he nodded, "Good," was all he said and then refocused on Payson. "All the way through, focusing on maximum flexibility and extensions, unless of course you'd like to prove Lauren right," he said as she measured the distance out of habit more than need.
Payson's eyes shot to his and he smiled, raising a brow in a challenging sort of way.
"Silver my ass," she muttered, and quickly into her round off arabian walkover mount, the D level skill just one of many difficult components that helped leave Lauren and the rest of the world, in the dust.
"Gorgeous Payson," Sasha called as she landed her switch split Ring leap. It's not affectionate or sensual; it's just the right word to describe the skill when done properly. The stretching she completed earlier aiding her tremendously, floating into the air, flicking her hair back at the right moment, toes pointed, arms extended all the way through to her fingertips, even those carefully placed into the most aesthetically pleasing formation.
She hadn't realized it when she first started, but there were enough minutiae to concentrate upon when you were an artistic gymnast to keep even her thirst for perfection satisfied. Gone were the days when practice became repetitive or even too physically straining. Now she could train, putting minimal stress on her joints, ligaments and tendons and still be legitimately working towards a medal. She finished up her routine with her arabian double front and landed cleanly.
"Excellent job, Payson," he said, before turning to focus on Kaylie.
Payson nodded to herself. It was as excellent as her other three rotations had been and normally she'd be starting over again after a quick lunch, but she had another mission all together this afternoon.
Today was her last day in Boulder before the Olympics. Tomorrow they would all, men and women alike, be traveling to Denver, where thanks to the NGO and Boris' insistence, they would have use of the Pepsi Center as a mock Olympic facility, training on a platform daily before flying to London just before the opening ceremonies. That meant today was her last day to speak to her father before she left and to ensure he was coming to the games. She spoke to her mom about it, but Kim was noncommittal, saying that while she supported Payson, it was between her and her father to work things out. Payson didn't blame her in the slightest. She was kind enough however to let her know that her dad would be home most of the day today. He'd quit his job in Minnesota and was currently in the process of looking for a new job entirely in Boulder to keep him close to his family. Payson was infinitely grateful she'd convinced her parents to pay off their mortgage.
She showered quickly, running through exactly what she wanted to say, though she was flying blind a little, not sure if her father already had every intention of going or if he wasn't even considering the idea.
As she exited the locker room, she saw Sasha leaning up against the platform that led to his office. "You off to see your dad?" he asked, his brow furrowed in concern. She had to resist the urge to reach up and smooth away the worry lines.
"Yeah," she said, hitching her gym bag over her shoulder.
He sighed and patted her shoulder lightly, the most physical contact they ever allowed themselves beyond the confines of coaching in the gym. "He loves you, Pay. He won't want to miss it."
She bit her lip and shrugged. "We'll see."
Fear wasn't usually a problem for Payson. The only time she'd ever let it get the best of her was just after she was cleared to do gymnastics and that sort of fear was physical instinct, her mind and body reacting to the stimuli that caused her injury. So as she sat in her car on her parents' driveway, the total and complete panic running through her veins was an unfamiliar feeling.
She took a deep breath and thought about what Sasha said. He father loved her, despite everything, she knew that was true and it was with that thought she finally worked up the courage to unbuckle her seatbelt, pick up the thick envelope on the passenger seat and make her way to the front door.
"C'mon Keeler, don't be an idiot," she said, staring at the door. "Here goes nothing." She rang the bell and stood there, her fingertips digging into the thick paper of the envelope.
The door opened and her father stood there, his eyes a mirror of hers, "Payson," he said, little emotion in his voice, before he shook himself and opened the door further, "come in, come in." He waved her into the house and they stood there in the hall for a moment.
She bit her lip, having no idea how to broach the subject. She hated this, hated that her relationship with her father, one of the people she loved most in the world was like this, awkward and stuttering.
Finally the silence was too much and he coughed before speaking, "What brings you here in the middle of the day? Shouldn't you be training?"
"I put in a solid half day," she said, smiling a little. "We're leaving for Denver tomorrow to start podium training and so today was the last day that I would be able to stop by. I've been meaning to for a little while, but I've been training pretty hard lately…" she trailed off. The excuses didn't matter. She shook her head, "Anyway, I wanted to give you this," she said, handing the envelope over to him.
He stared at the blank manila envelope and then looked back up at her. "What is it?" he asked.
"Round trip airfare to Heathrow and hotel accommodations, restaurant reservations for you, Mom and Becca, tickets to the gymnastics competition obviously and some of the other events too, swimming and tennis up at Wimbledon. Everything you guys will need."
He shook his head, "Payson, this is incredible I'm sure, but…"
Her eyes immediately filled with tears at the word, but. "You don't want to come," she finished for him. A sob catching in her throat as the tear drops fell freely. "I thought that maybe – forget it. I'm sorry, it was stupid, I shouldn't have…"
"Payson," her father interrupted her, "sweetheart, don't cry," he said, stepping forward and wiping away a tear. He hesitated for a moment before slowly wrapping his arms around her and that's when Payson felt the dam break.
"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for everything," she said, burying her head into his chest, feeling his arms tighten around her, holding her close.
"I know," he said, taking a deep breath, this exhale ruffling her hair.
Payson sniffled, pulling back, trying to compose herself, shaking her head, "I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't. I knew what you'd think, both you and mom and I just couldn't take that risk."
Her father's hand came up and stroked against her forehead, brushing away a lock of hair. "You love him that much?" he asked, his eyes searching hers.
She nodded quickly, "I do. I didn't even understand how much at first. Sasha did though, he knew and he never…I swear to you, Dad, he never pushed or anything. He wanted to wait it out, wait until after the Olympics. At the time I thought that it was just because of the age difference or because of what people would say, but he wanted to give me time, time to see if what I felt for him was real. I don't even think he knows I know that, but he's never been able to keep anything from me for long. I just, I love him, Dad and he's such a good man. He…he reminds me so much of you, you're both so strong and stubborn and I love you both so much."
"Okay," Mark said, putting his hands gently on her shoulders. She immediately calmed, sighing. "Explain it to me, Payson. If you really love him that much, explain it to me."
They sat on the living room couch, "You really want to hear this again? We told you everything before the trials."
Mark shrugged, "I wasn't exactly in the best frame of mind to be listening, Payson, but I'll listen now."
She nodded, "It all started just before Worlds, two years ago. It was stupid of me, but I kissed him."
"You kissed him?" Mark repeated.
And she smiled softly, remembering the utter joy that spread through her after she'd hit her floor routine for the first time, truly grasping what it meant to be an artistic gymnast, understanding what Sasha had been coaxing from her for months. "I did." She shook her head and shrugged. "And he pushed me away, pretty firmly if I remember correctly. We talked about it the next day, decided to forget it ever happened, but it started something, for the both of us, and we just couldn't ignore it, Dad. We tried, all the way up until Worlds, when we kissed again and that's when we decided to wait until after the Olympics. I'll never forget what he told me. He said, 'Two years, Payson Keeler. We have a mission, together: Olympic gold and once we've succeeded, well then, if you'll have me.' He thought I'd change my mind, I'm sure of it. But then we got home and it was like there was a cloud hanging over us, all the time, it was impossible to ignore, Dad."
"He should have," Mark said, though his voice was measured.
"I didn't let him," Payson said and as he opened his mouth to protest, she shook her head. "Dad, what was he supposed to do? We were falling in love."
"He could have done something, he could have left," he insisted, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration.
"And what good would that've done? We would have been miserable without each other and purely on a gymnastics level, he's the best coach in the world. I wouldn't be on my way to the Olympics if he'd left. It's as simple as that. We did what we had to do, including lie to you and mom and everyone else. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do."
They sat in silence for a minute, each agonizing moment weighing down upon Payson's shoulders. Maybe he can't forgive me.
"Payson," he said, finally looking at her. "I just don't want to see you hurt. Setting aside the lie for a minute, he's so much older than you, sweetheart and I feel like in the end you'll regret not going out into the world, exploring what it has to offer you, settling…"
"Dad, I'm not settling. I'm with a man I love. I'm about to go to the Olympics. We're moving to New York. I'm going to Columbia in the fall. We're going to open up a gym, I'll be coaching. This is everything I've always wanted and I found it at nineteen."
"Nineteen," he said, "we never did get a chance to celebrate your birthday, did we?"
She pressed her lips together and shook her head, "You guys could always come over for dinner tonight," she suggested and as his head tilted and brow raised, "or maybe we could celebrate in London?" she smoothly transitioned.
"That sounds great," he said and he smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes, but at his words, Payson overlooked that.
"So you're coming then?" she asked, her eyes lighting up.
His smile widened, "Of course I'm coming, Payson. My daughter is going to the Olympics. In case you hadn't realized, that's a pretty big deal."
She let his joke slide over her, shaking her head, "But before, when I gave you the envelope, you said…."
His brow furrowed, but then realization washed over him, "Payson, everything you put together sounds great, but I think your mom already took care of most of this stuff, plane tickets, travel arrangements, all of it."
Payson bit her lip, "I might have told her to tell you that so I could do it and then bring it over to you," she tensed, hoping he didn't take it badly. "I wanted an excuse to come see you since I knew you were still angry and…"
Her father sighed and moved closer to her. Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, he placed a kiss at the top of her head, "For the rest of your life, you never need an excuse to come and talk to me, understand? No matter what."
Sasha carefully spooned the rice pilaf onto the paper plates and went back to the counter to grab the grilled salmon he'd picked up from the fish place downtown. They'd been living on the healthiest takeout they could find over the last couple of days as most of Payson's kitchen supplies were packed away, ready to be shipped to New York. He heard her car pull into the driveway and filled their cups with ice and water.
"Hey," she said, placing her gym bag on the counter as she walked into the kitchen.
He turned to her unsure what he was about to see, he was expecting either devastated or jubilant, but what he saw was simple serenity. "How'd it go?" he asked, stepping towards her, taking her hand as she offered it to him and pulling her into an embrace.
"He's coming to London," she said, her voice muffled a little as she buried her face into his shoulder, breathing deeply.
Sasha closed his eyes in relief and sighed. He silently thanked Mark Keeler for being the kind of man who would put his daughter's happiness above all else. He would make sure to thank him himself, though he wasn't sure if his thanks would be all that welcome.
"I told you he wouldn't miss it," he said, leaning down, resting his cheek against the top of her head.
She pulled back, "Something smells great," she said, peaking around his shoulder. "You picked up dinner?"
They ate quickly, before moving into the living room. He sat on the couch, leaning into the corner before taking her hand and pulling her with him, their bodies relaxing into each other immediately, her shoulders pressed into his chest, the top of her head tucking perfectly up into the crook of his neck. He brushed a kiss lightly against her cheek, his hands resting against her shoulders, massaging lightly.
"That feels nice," she said, as he increased the pressure just enough to help release the tension she held there.
"Good," he whispered, feeling her entire body practically melt under his hands.
They lay there together for a while, relishing the peace and quiet, but Sasha knew he'd have to break it. "We need to talk about something," he said, unsure if this was the right moment to broach this subject, but it was the only one he had left. Just like she'd waited until the very last minute to ask her father about going to London, he'd waited on this too.
"Mmm, about what?" she asked, her hand running down the length of his thigh, distracting him for a moment as it came to rest on his knee.
He cleared his throat, trying to refocus. "About…" he hesistated, "about abstinence."
She laughed a little, her shoulders shaking lightly with the sound. "I think it's a little late for that, Sasha."
"I mean during the games. I don't think it's a good idea for you to waste your energy on sex. The Olympics are…" he paused, searching for the right word, "taxing, mentally, physically and emotionally. It's not like anything you've ever done before; you won't even realize how much has been taken out of you. It all becomes such a blur. And it's not like we'll have much privacy. You'll have a roommate and living in the Olympic Village is like living in the smallest town in the world. There are no secrets."
"You really think it's necessary?" she asked, still resting against his chest as his arms snaked around her, lying against her stomach, slipping gently under the cotton fabric of her shirt to stroke the soft skin there.
"I do," he said. "It's only three weeks. Three weeks for the rest of our lives and I won't do anything to hurt your chances."
"Then that's what we'll do," she said, lacing her fingers with his.
They lay there in silence for a moment until he heard her take a sharp breath, "It doesn't start tonight, does it?" she asked, sitting up and turning back to look at him.
"Absolutely not," he said as he pushed up off the couch to press his lips against hers. If tonight was the last night they'd be together for three weeks, he was going to make it count.