Free Tumbling by Caela Carter

knocked Wilhelmina’s guard down so fast, she almost fell with it. “To the Olympics?” she asked.
    â€œYeah.” Camille scrunched her lips to the side of her face.
    Wilhelmina nodded. Of course she really wanted to go. Didn’t they all? Wasn’t that the only reason to be here today?
    â€œDon’t you remember Melissa?” Camille whispered, her voice barely audible above the gym-chaos behind them. “And Caitlin? And Danielle?”
    â€œYes. . . .” Wilhelmina said.
    Those girls had been on her brain constantly the past few years. Those girls who also shirked the system. Who had coaches who refused to play by all of Katja’s rules. Who skipped camps or added events last minute.
    None of them had gotten to the Olympics.
    â€œBut I’m better than all of them,” Wilhelminasaid. “Everyone is going to see that today. I can do the all-around. I can help us win team gold. The committee will choose me.” Inside she said,
Be quiet. Don’t spill your secrets.
    Camille shook her head. “Katja doesn’t like surprises.”
    Wilhelmina wanted to scream, “Who cares?” across the gym. She wanted to pound Camille’s head into Katja’s knee.
    Camille went on: “Katja is . . . She won’t . . . If she’s mad at you, you’re done.”
    Wilhelmina rolled her eyes. Camille was trying to get under her skin. She didn’t remember this dirty side of Camille from four years ago, but she hadn’t spent this much time with her back then. “If I prove I’m one of the best five gymnasts here, or one of the best four
all-around
gymnasts,” Wilhelmina said, “Katja will take me. She’s not going to hurt the USA’s chance at gold just because I didn’t do it her way.”
    Camille was shaking her head. “That’s what Melissa said, remember?” Camille said. “She was ready for the last trials. You weren’t at the selection camp four years ago, but believe me. She was better than everyone, almost. She totally should have made the team. Katja refused.”
    â€œBut—” Wilhelmina protested.
    â€œYou’re better than she was,” Camille said. “Or you might be. I don’t know. I don’t think it’ll matter. It’s too risky for Katja.”
    Wilhelmina stared, dumbfounded. Camille couldn’tbe right. There was no way she knew what she was talking about.
    â€œIf you go to the Olympics,” Camille was saying, “you prove that all of those camps aren’t necessary. You prove that you don’t have to train constantly six days a week, eight hours a day in order to be an all-around gymnast. If you make the team, you prove you can do it
without
Katja.”
    â€œExactly,” Wilhelmina said.
    â€œYeah . . . that’s why she’s never going to choose you,” Camille said. “If you make the team, you prove she’s pointless. You threaten her power. You kill her job . . . her whole life.”
    Despite herself, Wilhelmina froze.
    â€œIf you want to go, you have to make it impossible for her not to pick you,” Camille said.
    Wilhelmina wanted to tell her to shut up. She wanted to unleash an angry barrage of gymnastics right on Camille’s wide cheekbones.
    She said, “You’re saying I have to win the meet?”
    â€œNo,” Camille said. “Probably not. You just have to beat someone she wants to bring. You have to beat Georgette or Leigh or Grace. Or else you have to . . .” Camille trailed off. But Wilhelmina knew how her sentence ended.
    She said it: “Or else I have to beat you on vault.”
    Camille snapped her jaw shut.
    Truth: it wouldn’t be as simple as eight great routines after all.
    The other truth was that Camille was evil: theonly reason to say all of that to Wilhelmina in the middle of the meet was to try to get her to