Learning Curve

Scottie

Kayla squeezes my hand, and I grip Emma on the other side, our cross-armed, pre-routine circle in full effect. It’s a ritual we never miss before taking the floor, and my knees shake and my heart races as all of us ready ourselves for what lies ahead.

We’re next on the mat, and Coach Jordan stands before us, her eyes serious but her lips set in a smile. “This is what we’ve been training for,” she says. “The hours and hours of practices and training have brought us here. To this moment. And now it’s time to show the world what we’re capable of. Show them why we’re the best. Show them why we’re going to leave NCA Nationals with that trophy clutched in our hands.”

“Hell yeah!” Tonya cheers, and a few other girls yell along with her without releasing hands.

“I believe in you. Each and every one of you,” Coach Jordan states. “I know this is scary, but be brave and you’ll amaze yourself. Dig deep and find your courage. The moment you step on that mat, I want you to show the judges just how good I know you can be. I want to see you smiling and having fun. I want to see you working hard. I want to see the kind of focus I saw last night when we were running through our routine one last time. It all comes down to two minutes and thirty seconds, and I know you guys are going to make every second count. Now, everyone huddle,” she says, and we close our circle even tighter around her, letting go of one another’s hands and grabbing our poms from in front of us as we do.

“Poms in the center,” she says, and no one hesitates to follow her instructions. “One team!” she yells.

“One dream!” we respond in synchrony.

“One heart!” she exclaims.

“We believe!” Everyone shakes their poms in the center. “Dickson Dragons!”

“Let’s go, girls!” Coach Jordan shouts at the top of her lungs, and my heart is already pounding hard inside my chest as we line up just outside of the main stage mat.

The team before us—the Stalwart Scorpions—have just walked off, and the MC steps onto the stage to announce us.

“I’m so nervous,” I whisper into Kayla’s ear, and she turns around to give me a tight, reassuring hug.

“You’ve got this, Scottie. We’ve got this.”

“Damn straight,” I say and swallow hard against the dryness in my throat.

“Plus,” she adds with a wry grin, “we’ve got a little Dickson fan section out there in the stands.”

“What?” I ask, but my eyes are already peering over her shoulder to steal a glance at the crowd. And it only takes me two seconds to spot Ace, Blake, Julia, and Finn.

Finn is here.

Wren and Dad wanted to be here, but they couldn’t afford to take any time off work. Not to mention the money it would’ve cost them to get here.

It’s an expensive trip for anyone, and I was prepared to be alone. But Finn somehow found a way to show up for me.

I want to cry from relief, but the visual of him standing there in a glittery Dickson Cheer T-shirt and a poster board that reads “Go, Scottie!” spurs several shaky giggles from my lungs. Ace and Blake and Julia are all wearing T-shirts that match Finn’s, and their posters are held high in their hands.

It’s a sight I’ll never forget.

And just as the MC announces us and we start to file out onto the mat to take our places, I lock eyes with Finn. It’s brief, but it’s all I need.

Calm washes over me, and I kneel down in my position and wait patiently for the music to start, without nerves or anxiety or fear.

Just like Finn told me this morning, I’m ready.