19. Sadie
Nineteen
Sadie
The music begins before I’m ready, a cascade of Debussy notes spilling through the gym. My body is ready for this.
I stand in that coiled stance, my weight balanced on the balls of my feet, my arms loose and open, every nerve humming.
But beneath the focus, my mind flickers traitorously to him.
Miles. How he was with me in the library, and at Grounds in the morning.
He was flirting, well I think he was flirting with me.
The memory sends a warm spark through my chest that I shove it down hard.
Not now, I need to focus on my movements. I need to win this floor routine.
Then the music calls, and I launch.
Three steps, then gravity releases me. The front aerial into the double pike unfolds like muscle and longing braided together.
It’s clean, weightless, and inevitable. My feet meet the mat with perfect certainty, my arms high.
There’s no time to linger on the ache of wondering what Miles would see if he were watching.
The melody dips, soft and aching, the piano breathing like a lover pulling away just enough to make the heart chase.
My body follows, flowing where it once fought.
This is the part that used to resist me, until Miles sat across from me in exhausted silence and cut straight through my doubt.
Now the movement pours out of me, my arms tracing slow, sensual arcs that echo the melody.
My weight shifts, effortless on the surface but costing everything underneath.
My spine lengthens, my chest opens, and the gym fades.
There is only the piano’s sigh… and the persistent, unwanted awareness of how much I want Miles to see me like this. Truly see me.
The music builds. A crescendo tightens low in my belly, spreading heat through my sternum.
I leap into the series, the switch ring landing with a shock of pure rightness that travels up my legs like lightning.
The turns flow seamlessly. One element melting into the next.
The thought of him, of his steady voice, his unreadable eyes makes my pulse stumble for half a beat.
I push harder, channeling the tension into the movement.
I’m at the final corner. Three steps, and the full twisting layout explodes from pure instinct, and when my feet strike the mat, solid, planted, arms high, the silence feels electric.
I wait three heartbeats.
Coach Pearce’s voice cuts through. “Again.”
I look down at my feet, annoyed that I have to do it again. Where did I mess up? I thought it was perfect. Maybe my movement in the air wasn’t right, maybe I landed a little to the left. But I do as the coach says and start it over again.
I run the routine four times. On the fourth, she lifts her hand. I stand breathless in the center, my skin flushed and damp, and my heart is still racing from more than the routine. She walks toward me slowly.
“The floor piece is ready,” she says. Her eyes hold mine. “That’s as good as I’ve seen it. Tomorrow, with the lights and the crowd, it’ll be better. Your beam has been flawless. You could win this.” Coach smiles and I feel so happy knowing I can win if I focus.
I feel warm and validated. Coach walks away and I remain rooted, my chest tight with a different kind of anticipation.
Juno appears, seizing my arms, her joy bright and fierce. “She said you could win this now; we all need to do our best to win.”
I smile, but my mind is already drifting toward tomorrow’s stands. We can do this as a team, we can win.
“Are we going to Grounds, I need a coffee,” I ask, which makes her laugh. She turns to the girls and tells them we’re going to Grounds.
“Maybe someone else will be there,” she winks at me, and walks away. I know who she means but I’m not saying anything. Because she will try to do anything to set us up together, but I want Miles to want me because he wants it, not because my friends are pushing it.
***
Grounds buzzes with evening energy. We claim the corner table like always. Our coffees arrive, and some sandwiches as we all need to get some energy into us. Coach really made us work tonight, and I have nothing left in me.
Maya scribbles in her notebook. Cara nods as Juno hasn’t stopped talking since we left practice.
“That leap series,” she says, her eyes sparkling. “When you hit the switch ring and just kept going… that’s the moment.”
I nod, but my thoughts circle back to Miles, how his suggestion unlocked that flow. How his presence lingers in my routines now because he’s the one who opened that door for me.
I look over at the door when it opens, hoping its Miles, but it’s not.
“Lileah, over here.” I wave to her and Trixie to come join us.
Lileah slides in beside me. “Are you guys ready? We are all coming, it will be fun.”
The casual mention of we, including Miles, sends a flutter through my stomach I try to ignore, but I have to stop myself from smiling at the thought of him being there.
I eat my food because I can feel myself getting a little light-headed and the conversation around me moves to a class Cara and Lileah are both in.
Leaning back in my seat, my hands are wrapped around my coffee, and Lileah’s gaze lands on me. I can already tell she’s going to ask something I don’t want to be answering. “Sadie, I heard that you’re seeing someone.”
Heat rises up my neck; I look at Juno who’s smiling at me. She’s going to be the pain in my life, but I know she’s going to be in my life a long time after college is finished.
“There’s someone. But they’re… hard to read,” I tell her.
“Hard to read how?” Lileah asks. One thing I’ve noticed is that Lileah does all the talking. Trixie doesn’t talk, and I don’t ask why, because it’s not my business.
“I leave every conversation feeling like I understand less than when I started.” My voice softens. “Like I’m always reaching for something just beneath the surface. Why are men like that?”
Juno makes a small, knowing sound. “Miles is a closed book, isn’t he.”
“It’s not Miles,” I say quickly… too quickly. The denial burns on my tongue, it’s a half-lie, and half-protection. My heart kicks against my ribs.
The table laughs, because they all know it’s Miles. I can’t even hide how I’m crushing on his,
“It’s not Miles,” I repeat, but the words feel like the biggest lie I’ve told.
Heat floods my cheeks. I think of him in the library, no sleep shadowing his eyes, yet still seeing me so clearly.
The way his quiet certainty had steadied my chaos.
The way his rare smiles feel like something earned.
The way I lie awake replaying the low timbre of his voice saying my name.
Lileah grins, shaking her head. “As his sister, the idea of Miles as anyone’s crush is gross. He’s not easy. Whoever ends up with him will need oceans of patience.”
The table quiets and I’m hoping it’s the last time I have to talk about Miles, because I’m going to start blushing, and tell them all how I’m itching to feel Miles on top of me. Crazy, I know it’s crazy, but thinking about Miles in all the wrong ways, takes me to a happy place, I’d like to stay in.
“Tomorrow,” Juno declares, setting her mug down. “We sleep. We eat well and we win regionals."
“We go and compete and have fun,” I murmur.
They need to know we’ll all try our best, but out of all of us, Juno puts the most pressure on herself. I have no idea why, but nothing but the best comes from her.
“We will win,” she insists.
I can’t argue. Not when every beat of my heart feels like it’s already racing toward him and not regionals.
***
I can’t sleep. We leave for regionals in the morning, and my mind is a storm of flips, twists, and every possible way I could humiliate myself on the mat.
I pace the dorm room in slow circles, my arms wrapped tightly around my stomach, trying to breathe through the anxiety.
Every time I close my eyes, I see myself falling. Failing. Letting everyone down.
I stop in front of the open laptop.
This is insane. This is the most dangerous, stupidest thing I’ve ever considered.
I know I shouldn’t. I know normal people don’t invite masked strangers who break into their room to fuck them just because they’re stressed. But the thought of his hands, his mouth, the way he made me come so hard I saw stars… it keeps pulling me back in.
This is crazy… I’m crazy.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I open the laptop and turn on the mic.
“Are you there?” My voice is barely a whisper.
The words appear almost instantly.
Yes. Always.
I take several deep, shaky breaths. My heart is pounding so violently I feel dizzy. I know this is wrong, yet I can’t stop myself.
Another message appears.
Is everything okay? You look tense.
I stand up and start pacing again, chewing on my thumbnail. What the hell am I doing? This man could be anyone. He could hurt me. He could ruin my life. But even as the fear spikes, so does the heat low in my belly. I stop, turn back to the laptop, and speak before my rational brain can stop me.
“I’m… really stressed about Regionals. I need to relax. I need to sleep so I’m fresh when we leave in the morning. I just… I need to turn my brain off.”
The cursor blinks.
Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.
My hands are trembling as I slowly peel off my tank top, then slide my shorts and panties down my legs. Cool air kisses my naked skin. I feel ridiculously exposed standing there in front of the laptop, but I don’t stop. I’m doing this. I’m actually doing this.
“I want you here,” I whisper, my voice shaking with nerves and need. “I want your hands on me… I want to feel you inside me.”
The screen goes completely black. I wait hoping he’ll turn it back on, but there’s nothing.
Oh god, I went too far. He’s disgusted, or he’s coming to kill me. I stand there frozen, my heart hammering, shame and arousal twisting together so tightly I can barely breathe.