Blind Landing (Flipped #1) (16 page)

W
hen I was sixteen
, my parents took us back to Poland for a month to see extended family and cram a little of their culture into us. While we were there we visited many places, but one of my favorites was the day trip we took to Berlin to experience the Love Parade.

Thousands upon thousands of people, so many colors and noises. I vividly remember the crowds, the way everything smelled, the beautiful chaos and free love sweeping the streets.

And as our van moves through Rio, the same feelings tingle through my body, the movements of color, people and sound like one giant wave trapping me within its crescendo. I press my nose to the glass, itching to get out of the car. We’ve been on a plane for ten hours, and I’ve waited sixteen years to be in this moment. I’m so anxious it’s like my nerves are jumping out of my skin.

“Do you see that woman? There! I think she’s actually naked …”

Swinging around in my seat, I see Anna with her nose pressed against the glass, gawking at the nearly nude woman shaking her tatas in the street.

“No … she has a bra and underwear on … wait, nope. Those are just crystals. I can totally see her nips.” Julia confirms, all of use moving to one side of the van to get a better look.

The woman is joined by dozens of other carnival dancers, shaking their bodies in an intricate and sultry dance, almost welcoming the line of cars from the airport. They wear colors, sparkles, feathers and more, and the beat of the drums and maracas invade our vehicle, booming all the way into my chest.

Everything here is bigger, more colorful, just more … everything. Travelers from far and wide representing their country’s flags or colors litter the street, popping into local shops or sitting enjoying the cuisine.

“There it is!” Grace cries as she points through the windshield of the van.

I follow her arm, focusing on the large structure in the distance.

“That’s it. The Rio Olympic Arena,” I breathe out as the rest of the girls crowd around me.

We all stare in wide eyed wonder at the tall white building ahead, the white cable like spires shooting up off the roof. It’s the building where our destiny will be decided, where we will either become champions or go home losers. It’s all or nothing now … there is no more fighting. No more struggle or competition. All I can do three days from now is walk out onto that arena floor and perform my butt off. Nothing I say or do, and nothing anyone else says or does, matters anymore. My body has to go out and do what it was trained to do.

“I can’t believe we’re finally here!” Anna gives another squeal. “I wonder if James’ plane landed yet.”

She pulls her phone out and begins furiously typing at the screen, probably sending her boyfriend a bunch of gold medal emojis followed by the face with heart eyes. I want to say they make me gag, but deep down, a pang of loneliness radiates through my heart and gut. If things had gone differently, Spence would be here, in Rio. We would probably still be hidden, and he’d be here as a coach for the men’s team, but he still would have gotten to see me compete.

I’d give anything now for him to be in the stands cheering for me.

It was bad enough my family couldn’t scrape the money together to fly out and watch me in the Olympics. My heart threatened to crack even further. This wasn’t just my dream after all. They’d given up opportunities, money, years of their life … all of this so I could pursue my dream. I was grateful and guilty that my brothers had to suffer because I was given more than they were. I wanted them all here to take part in this, to celebrate in all of the sacrifice finally paying off.

But if they couldn’t be here to join in with me, I was going to give them the next best thing. A gold medal. Then I’d finally be able to help them out, support them in the way they’d always supported me.

“Has anyone seen the new leotards yet?” Grace picks at her cuticle, her blue and red gel manicure perfectly fitting the USA theme.

“Novak has them under lock and key, or so I’ve heard. Wants to make some big splash.” Julia rolls her eyes.

“Oh crap! I forgot my lucky sports bra!” Anna cries, engrossed into her phone once more. I’m sure to try and have someone ship her that lucky bra.

“You don’t need a bra to compete well.” Quinn pipes up from her backseat.

Even though we’ve been together nearly every day for the last three months, I haven’t quite figured Quinn out yet. She’s eighteen, in the middle of the age group of the Fearless Five.

Oh … yeah
. That’s what they’re calling us.

The nickname started when Grace made some asinine comment to a reporter about the criticism of Rio as a host city.

There have been reports of unsafe drinking water, disease and pollution … causing some Olympic athletes to even go so far as pulling out of the games. We’ve been assured all of the facilities will be safe and clean for the athletes, but we are all still being cautious about pretty much everything we’re going to put into our bodies.

Well, everyone except for Grace. When she was asked by a reporter what her opinion on the reports were, she decided to tell him that, “The five women of the USA Gymnastics Team have faced more adversity and struggle trying to just make the Olympic team. Now that we’re here, nothing will scare us away. We will be fearless in the face of conflict, or any attempt to remove us from the competition.”

I have to roll my eyes again. I don’t think she quite got the question, but her answer ignited some kind of national pride, prompting the reporter to brand us the Fearless Five.

And eventually, the entire country and world caught on.

“I’ve worn that sports bra for every single one of my last twenty international competitions, and I’ve always placed top three!” Julia whines.

Quinn chuckles, “I think that means you smell, not that your successful.”

I have to stifle my laugh as Julia pouts more, sending daggers from her brown eyes straight at Quinn. I have to side with Quinn, I don’t really believe in the whole sports superstition thing. Sure, I have my methods and ways, but I don’t believe wearing a pair of earrings, or how many times you go to the bathroom before a meet matters in the outcome.

But with Peyton gone, it seems I’m the designated leader of the team. I don’t know when I was given that title, but many times over the last month I’ve been looked at to settle a dispute or form a plan.

So I step in now. “Anna, it’s probably fine … but just in case, let’s talk to the U.S. equipment manager and see if anything can be done to get it here.”

She nods, blinking away the tears in her eyes. I need to dissipate the tension that has settled over the van.

“Hey, everyone chin up now. The hard part is over! We’re here … we made it. Olympic gold is within our grasp, all we have to do is reach out and take it. I know we can do it, I have faith in every single one of you. It doesn’t matter where we trained before, what our superstitions or preferences are; we’re a team now. I expect each person to support and strive for our group of five as if you were a limb, an essential part of one living body. Got it?”

My little speech has them, all of the girls leaning forward toward me. And as if I told them to do it in unison, they all put their hands in, smiling and nodding as a life-force of unity blossoms in my chest.

* * *

D
rums beat deep
down into my soul. The guitar riffs and maracas shake me, sending my body on a musical journey. The band, no the symphony, stirs up something powerful and joyous, building me up to the highest form of bliss.

There might have been concerns about having Rio as the host country for the Olympics, but goddamn … the opening ceremonies did not disappoint.

I’d been so focused on getting here, on the competition and then being caught up in my heartbreak that I’d forgotten all of the pomp and circumstance that goes along with this once in a lifetime sporting event.

All of the traditions and festivities, the ceremonies … the drinking. The Olympic Village. I forgot that I’d be seeing old friends, gymnasts I’ve met over the years at international competitions.

“Oh. My. God. That’s LeBron James!” Grace shrieks in my ear, pointing to a tall figure in the sea of athletes walking the track inside the Maracanã Stadium.

And yeah, the other athletes. I had forgotten that the Olympics wasn’t as amateur as it used to be. Tennis star Andy Murray was among the mass of bodies, as were Michael Phelps and Usain Bolt.

In the middle of it all, Shakira belted out a catchy Latin pop song.
That one
had me pretty starstruck. She was vibrant and beautiful, and up close, her hips definitely did not lie.

The whole spectacle was out of this world; I was a part of something that most people never got to see first hand. I was in the middle of this insane ball of energy, it was an almost out-of-body experience.

“This is truly incredible.” Even Julia looks up at the stadium in awe, the audience like a moving, breathing entity of it’s own.

“I can’t believe we’re finally here.” I grab her shoulder, pulling her in for a side hug.

“What are you doing tonight?” She asks, squeezing me back.

We settled into our dorm earlier, a block of apartments in the Olympic Village with two of us to a room. Julia and I had paired up, with Grace and Anna in the room next to ours. Quinn had a single, something she apparently didn’t seem to mind even though I’d assured her we’d all be together pretty much the entire time.

“Not sure, I was probably just going to go back and rest.”

“No parties for you?” She smirks at me.

“Not for this old broad. But you go mingle it up, there are some dead ass sexy guys here.”

“Maybe … I haven’t really noticed.” Julia shrugs. “I think I might just try to meet up with my parents. I likely won’t be able to see them again until after our competitions are done.”

A pang of jealousy hits me square in the gut, and I have to train my face not to look upset. “That sounds fun.”

The ceremony lasts for another hour or two, the performances and show wowing all of us. I’m exhausted by the time I mosey back to my dorm, watching the giddy athletes babbling in languages foreign to my own ears as they scurry along to the parties of the night.

Before Spencer I probably would have been all about the crazy, notorious parties of the Olympic Village. Now? I just want to quietly reflect in my room.

Our dorm is dark and quiet as I close myself within the room and settle into bed. I change from my Olympic jumpsuit into ratty old sweatpants and my Magnificent Seven shirt. The white T-shirt is threadbare at best, I’ve had the shirt for pretty much my entire life. Shannon Miller, Dominique Moceanu, Dominique Dawes, Kerri Strug, Amy Chow, Amanda Borden, and Jaycie Phelps faces’ are crinkled, the graphic so worn from the dryer it is peeling off.

Even though I ragged on Julia before about superstitions, this is mine. I’ve worn this shirt the night before every single meet I’ve ever competed in. It’s seen me through a lot.

Not two minutes after I settle into bed, Facebook pulled up on my iPhone, someone knocks on the door. I curse Julia for forgetting her key and throw the covers off, dragging my feet towards the door.

Except when I throw it open, a barb on my tongue, it’s not Julia.

It’s my Mom.

Standing next to Spencer.

I
didn’t think twice
when Rourke offered me a room in his rented house in Rio. Not twenty minutes later I was booking a plane ticket and rearranging my schedule. Of course I wanted to see my male gymnasts, my friends, compete and win at the Olympics. But more than that, I wanted to go get Nat back.

And when he let slip that Nat was the only gymnast out of the ten males and females going to Rio whose parents wouldn’t be traveling to watch her compete, I knew I couldn’t let that stand.

So I’d put up my own money, contacting the Grekov’s and finally convincing Natalia’s stubborn Polish mother to come with me. I may have played the guilt card, convincing her that this is the only time in her life she’ll be able to watch her daughter compete in the Olympics. While I couldn’t get the entire family to go, I could at least watch her beautiful face light up as she opened the door to the best surprise she’d gotten in a while.

To be honest, bringing Sophie Grekov with me might have been a little selfish on my part. Nat was so happy to see her mom, that it took a bit of the sting away where I was concerned.

“What are you doing here?!” She shrieks, pouncing on Sophie. The two of them look so identical it’s scary. The same blond hair, the same blue eyes … I’d never admit this to Nat, but her mom is fucking hot.

“Your friend here flew me out, convinced me I had to come.” Her thick Polish accent is muffled in Nat’s hair, the two of them clinging to each other like they’ve been separated for years.

Which I guess they have.

“You look so good, my baby. So strong, so healthy! Have you been eating enough? I need to find a kitchen, I will make you some pirogies and kolduny. Comfort food always does you good.”

I have no idea what that second thing is, but if Nat’s praise of her mother’s cooking when we were together is any indication, I want Sophie to find a kitchen as well.

As if just sensing my arrival, Nat’s head turns and our eyes clash. It’s a shock to my system, one that sends sadness, love, lust and the need to touch her, talk to her, spiraling through me. Moments of the time we spent together flash in front of me, the way she opened me up to something I didn’t think I needed to have. Love was never on the agenda, and then she nearly sent me flailing across the floor of the cafeteria.

“Hi.” She sends a small smile my way, her teeth shining in the lamp outside her door.

“Hi … how are you? You look great.” I know I’m being awkward, especially in front of her mom, but I don’t know how else to act.

Nat shuffles her feet, clearly feeling the tension too.

And so does Sophie, because right then she clears her throat. “I’m going to go inside, rest a little. It’s been a long trip. Spencer, you come get me when you two are done talking.”

She’s staying at Rourke’s house too, no way was I going to make her pay for a hotel.

“Thanks,” I say to her retreating back.

And then I’m left alone with Nat, the music of Brazil and the party sounds of the Olympic Village filling the dark night.

“Want to walk with me?”

She shrugs. “I can’t go far.”

I nod, letting her step out in front of me before we fall into step beside each other. We walk a few feet before I start in again.

“How have you been?”

I can’t make out her expression in the dark. “Good. I’m ready, can’t wait to compete.”

I didn’t mean gymnastics-wise, and she knows it. “That’s great.”

“How have you been?” The question seems to come out of courtesy.

“I’ve been okay. I opened my gym … well it’s not open yet, but it’s ready. Right in Ocean City.”

Nat turns to me, a smile clear as day on her full lips. “You did it.”

“I did,”
But it doesn’t matter without you
, is what I don’t add. And then, it slips out. “I miss you.”

A long sigh from her. “Spence … listen, the things I said, I didn’t mean—”

“I know you didn’t.”

She puts a hand on my forearm, and the initial touch sends my head spinning. “Let me get this out. I was awful, I should never have said the things I said. It was cruel, and a low blow. You didn’t deserve that, I’m so sorry.”

I lay my hand over hers, my fingertips sparking at the contact with her silky flesh. “And I had no right to ask those things of you. Of course you would put the Olympics before our relationship, you’ve been working your whole life for this. I know what this takes, how this sport is. I was pissed and wrong to come to you like that. So I’m sorry too.”

We’ve stopped walking, our hands intertwined on my arm. It would be so easy to lean down right now and kiss her, feel that familiar rush. But I feel it, those three words on the tip of my tongue. I know if I move in close, my breath on her mouth, I’ll tell her I love her. That she’s changed my life in just a few short months, and nothing that was important before is truly important now, because I don’t have her with me.

But I can’t. I won’t. I pushed her too far, too hard, a month ago. I won’t spook her again. She needs to decide that this is what she wants, that I’m what she wants. And if I’m being honest, I’m scared shitless that I’m not what she wants. Which confirms my decision not to profess how much she means to me.

“Thank you for bringing my mother … you have no idea how much that means.” Nat breaks the spell first, turning around to head back for the dorm.

“When Rourke told me your family couldn’t afford it, I knew I had to do something. It was really nice to be able to spend some time with her.”

Touch me again, please.
My hands are screaming to be able to hold her, to caress her. It feels strained to walk beside her and not send an idle hand through her hair or lace my fingers through hers. I miss her so goddamn much my bones ache.

We circle back in front of her dorm, dread swamping me as I realize I’ll have to leave her here for the night. “I’ll wait here, just have Sophie come out. She’s staying with me at the house Rourke rented, so don’t worry, she’ll be safe.”

Nat’s eyes melt, warm pools of blueberry. “Thank you, Spence. This is really great of you.”

I wave her off. “Don’t mention it.”

She turns to go inside, no goodnight kiss or lingering hug. I turn my face up towards the moon, which hangs low and full in the sky. Disappointment hits me square in the chest. Of course things weren’t going to get resolved in seconds, this wasn’t a movie. But maybe there had been a small part of me that hoped that was going to be the case.

“Hey, Spence?” I hadn’t realized Nat was still standing there, one hand on the doorknob.

“Yeah?”

“Will you come watch me compete? I’d really like it if you could be there.”

My heart speeds up, it’s beating renewed with hope and love. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”