Free Return to Sender by Julie Cross

square-shaped. So, no trampoline benefits for us today. By the time we finish setting up our station, TJ has jumped up and down a few times on the floor, stretched his calves for like two seconds, and shaken out his arms.
    “What are you doing?” Stevie snaps at him as soon as he slides in front of her at the end of the floor.
    “What does it look like I’m doing?”
    “I don’t know, warming up for a senior citizens race,” she says. “Nice stretching routine, by the way.”
    One side of his mouth turns up. “Oh yeah? I’d like to watch you stretch your limbs a little. We can test that flexibility of yours later if you want.”
    I bite my lip to keep from laughing.
    Stevie’s mouth falls open and her cheeks redden with anger. “You’re demented.”
    “That’s what they tell me.” He shrugs. “My room or yours?”
    “Girls! Enough talking!”
    Stevie bites back a reply, her hands balling up at her sides. TJ takes off in a run then propels himself into a round-off, tucked double backflip, two whip back somersaults, followed by a double pike, landing with a firm thud on top of our mat stack in the pit.
    TJ brushes past me on his way back and I blurt out, “Not bad.”
    Stevie shoots a glare at me before turning it on TJ. “You didn’t even warm up.”
    TJ snorts back a laugh. “That was my warm-up.”
    I take my spot much closer than TJ ran from since I’m only doing three skills, not eight. I work through my Arabian double front, then watch Stevie perform the tucked double double that she’s famous for.
    On TJ’s next turn, he does the same pass as before, except his double tuck is exchanged for a double pike and his double pike is replaced with a perfect—pencil straight body and all—and super-high double layout.
    “Nice,” I can’t help saying despite Stevie’s animosity and expectations that I take her side. Good tumbling is good tumbling. “So you’re a power tumbler? Do you compete on tramp, too?”
    He levels me with a look. “I don’t need a tramp to get high.”
    Stevie bursts out laughing. “That’s like the anti-public service poster. An anti, anti-drug campaign. Good job.”
    For a second, I could swear TJ almost looks offended, but he spins around quickly and takes another turn.
    “Hello?” Stevie says, “My turn?”
    For the next thirty minutes, the three of us work in silence, TJ studying us shamelessly. Finally, he nudges me in the shoulder. “Where’s your double double?” He nods at my teammate. “You aren’t gonna let her have the edge, are you?”
    I glance over at Nina Jones. She’s got her back to us. Before she can spot me, I take off, jumping into my hurdle and putting everything I’ve got into the new double twisting double back. I can’t conceal the triumphant smile that takes over my face when I land with my chest up, my feet firmly planted on the stacked mats in the pit.
    Stevie’s jaw tenses and as soon as I’m out of the pit, she’s sprinting in this direction, throwing her new double twisting double layout—which is practically a universe above my same skill in the tucked position. The skill Stevie has been well known for since winning the gold at World Championships a few years ago.
    “Oh!” TJ says, throwing his hands in the air. “And she just wiped the floor with you.”
    “You, too,” I point out, already annoyed with this guy’s relentless efforts to state the obvious. “She saw your double layout and raised the bar with two extra twists.”
    TJ’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh yeah? I’m not done yet, Campbell.”
    Stevie’s breathing hard by the time she gets back to the far end of the tumbling strip, but both of us are glued to TJ. He does a round-off back handspring, double layout, two whip backs, another back handspring, and then finishes with a triple back somersault.
    “Holy shit,” I mumble.
    “Who is this guy?” Stevie says, still panting.
    “Power tumbling National Team member,” Ariel, an eighteen-year-old three-time