Chapter 4
FOUR
LILY
JULY
A muted wall of noise pressed in around Lily as she shook out her arms under the hot arena lights, waiting for her cue to step onto the floor for her second-to-last event of the Olympic Games.
It had been an intense week of competition; it was the Olympics after all.
She had helped Team USA secure gold in the team all-around with her beam routine and had even picked up an unexpected gold on her individual uneven bar event.
Still, it was the bronze medal for the individual all-around that had been gnawing at her for two days.
It wasn’t the outcome she had planned for.
But it was fine. That’s just how things went sometimes. Lily would adjust. All she needed to do now was take the next ninety seconds of her life and give it everything she had. A judge motioned for her to step onto the floor. Time to shine.
The spring-loaded floor creaked beneath her feet as she took her starting position, inhaling deeply as she placed one hand on her hip, turning her head, waiting for her music to start.
Ninety seconds. That’s it. That’s all it was. Lily could do that except for… Bronze.
The word bounced around her head like a rubber ball, ricocheting off every surface. You didn’t win the all-around. You were supposed to, but you came up short. Maybe you’re not as good as everyone says.
“Get out of your head, Gallagher.”
Jamie’s voice cut through her mental chatter. It sounded so clear, so real, almost as if Jamie were standing on the mat beside her.
“And remember, have fun.”
Lily inhaled deeply as the first note of her floor music rang out.
Go. She stepped forward, arms sweeping delicately through the air with the rhythm of the music, her hips swiveling into an elegant pivot.
Her first few movements were all dance elements, fluid and natural to her.
The floor had always been her playground.
Lily knew how to take up space here, how to own the air around her body.
She moved her way to the corner, heels aligning perfectly, preparing herself for her first big tumbling pass.
The beat dropped. Arms pumped as she propelled herself forward in three powerful strides, launching her body into the air, twisting and flipping, landing perfectly on beat—exactly how she had trained for it.
Lily couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her cheeks as the crowd cheered and she moved through her choreography to set herself up for her next pass.
Sixty seconds to go. Don’t think, keep it tight, let it rip, and stick it.
Again, Lily launched herself into the air, but halfway through the second rotation of her twist, she felt it. Something was off, she was half a beat early.
Oh no.
Time felt frozen as she tried to figure out a correction, a way to compensate for her mistake, but then the floor was beneath her, heels slamming into the padded surface.
She heard a pop, followed by a pain ripping through the back of her left calf as if someone had taken a searing hot knife and sliced the muscle.
She clutched her leg, her balance giving out, sending her toppling to the floor.
Lily couldn’t hear anything over the whooshing of her heart pounding in her chest as white-hot pain licked its way up her leg.
She was pretty sure her music was still playing, but the pain—the pain.
She slammed her palm into the floor as she gritted her teeth, trying to breathe through the throbbing, unable to help the way her vision went fuzzy.
The next thing she knew, she was looking up at the arena lights twinkling above her, slowly coming into focus, and she became loosely aware of people moving around her. Had she passed out? That was definitely not good.
“Vitals are stable. Spinal check, clear.”
Lily shifted uncomfortably as a uniformed medic squeezed her calf.
“Thomson test indicates a tear.”
“Okay, let’s boot her.”
Lily listened to their voices as the same medic quickly immobilized her foot.
“What’s going on?” she asked numbly.
“Looks like a potential Achilles tear. We’re going to get you all ready for transport and then off to the medical facility for some imaging. The team doctor will meet you there.”
“What about my moms?” she asked, suddenly feeling the need to have both of them by her side. “Is someone getting them? They texted me where they’re sitting. If you just get me my phone—” She tried to stand up but the medic placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, keeping her down.
“Lily, don’t try to stand up. It’s okay. Someone is getting your moms. We need to get you up and off the floor now. On the count of three, we’re going to move you to the gurney.”
Twenty minutes later, her moms slipped into the room she had been placed in shortly after arriving at the medical center.
Her mom was, unsurprisingly, on the phone, talking quickly in a hushed tone as words like ‘specialist’ and ‘triage priority’ came Lily’s way.
Meanwhile, her mama pulled up a chair next to her cot, scooting closer, brushing her hair gently in that comforting way Lily always craved when she was upset.
“Hi,” Lily said, tiredness creeping into her voice. The room felt floaty, no doubt the effects of the pain medication the medics had given her.
“Hey, love.” Beth’s voice was gentle, filled with understanding. Lily was grateful that she seemed calm, rather than panicked, as she had expected. Calm was exactly the vibe she needed right now.
“I’m sorry if I scared you,” Lily said preemptively, trying to get ahead of a lecture she wanted to avoid. “I knew in the air that something was off and…” Her voice trailed off at her mama’s gentle squeezing of her hand.
“You’re okay, and that’s all that matters to us.”
Lily searched the blue eyes that mirrored her own, looking for a deeper disappointment lying somewhere beneath the surface, but she couldn’t find it.
“Nobody texted Wren, right? She’s got a game today, which means tech blackout—no phones, no socials. I don’t want her to know what’s going on until after she plays. I know she’ll be worried about me.”
Her mama opened her mouth to answer, but her mom’s movement on the other side of the room pulled their attention as she slid her phone back into her pocket. “Our second opinion will be here within two hours from San Diego. Nell called in a favor and is arranging transportation.”
Lily groaned. Her mom was always doing stuff like this—just a little over the top. “Mom, I haven’t even seen the team doctor yet. Don’t you usually need a first opinion before getting a second?”
“We’re doing our due diligence, Lils. Your contract with the Gymnastics Federation entitles you to seek medical assessment outside what the team provides.”
Oh yes, the contract. “Okay fine, but promise me you’re not going to get weirdly intense with the team doctor.” Lily shifted her gaze to her mama, silently pleading for backup.
“When have I ever gotten weirdly intense about anything?” Sarah shrugged, sliding into the empty chair on the other side of the cot.
“Oh, never, can’t think of a single time,” Lily said under her breath.
Her mama’s hand patted her thigh gently.
“We are so lucky to have someone like your mom who loves with so much care. Can it be a little intense sometimes? Yeah, but I wouldn’t trade that for the world.
Plus, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree because you, my dear, have always had your own little fire. And trust me, it’s just as intense.”
A look passed between her moms, reminding Lily of their silent language she had never quite been able to decipher.
“Intensity isn’t a bad thing, Lils,” her mom added, leaning back in the chair.
This time, Lily did roll her eyes. “Oh my god, it’s not that deep, guys. You can just be a little embarrassing sometimes,” she grumbled, leaning back into the pillows. “Both of you.”
“There is absolutely nothing embarrassing about using your voice to advocate for yourself,” Sarah said with her usual confidence.
“Okay, I get it. Can we talk about something else?” Lily shifted against the thin sheets, trying to get comfortable with her foot elevated. “Did the team already put out a statement?”
“Yes, the official statement is that you’ve been injured and are pending further evaluation. The Team USA Alternate will replace you in the beam final. Here.” Sarah flipped her phone screen toward Lily so she could see the social media post.
“Well, at least Hadley Knight will get a chance to show the world what she can do. She deserves to shine, too,” Lily said, referring to the alternate.
A knock came at the door before the familiar team doctor entered the room, followed by two of the team’s medical staff.
Lily listened, or at least tried to hear through pain medication induced fog.
She heard the words rupture, surgery, and recovery as she tried to digest what Dr. Ryan was saying.
All eyes looked to her to decide what to do next, which momentarily confused her because she didn’t feel like enough of a grown-up to be making any decisions, let alone ones as serious as this.
But she was nineteen; legally, she was an adult.
Shortly after Dr. Ryan left to give her and her moms some time to think about things, the second opinion arrived. Dr. Mel Thatcher—Dr. Mel, as she insisted—reiterated what Dr. Ryan had delivered. Lily had managed to rupture her Achilles Tendon, and it would require surgery to fix.
“And what does my recovery time look like? I need to get back to training as quickly as possible. My college season starts in December.”
Dr. Mel gave her a long, serious look, considering her fully. Lily returned it, equally as serious.
“It’s unlikely that I’d advise returning to competition this year.
If I were being conservative, based on the MRI and ultrasound results and the severity of the rupture, you’re looking at a minimum of six months before you would even be able to get back on a mat with any kind of load-bearing movement. ”