I’m way, way, more nervous for this part. In a group, if you make a mistake you can cover it, blend it in. When it’s just you? There’s no hiding. Every little thing can be seen, and given that Carter, the totally-off-limits hunk, is the one watching, my skin is practically crawling with anxiety. What will he be thinking about when I’m performing? Will he be thinking about the way he touched me, fingers sinking beneath my underwear to feel how wet I was? Will he be thinking about how his body pressed against mine? Damn it, I shouldn’t have let myself go there. Now it’s all I can think about, and his eyes on me are only going to make it worse.

But I don’t have a choice, because now it’s my turn.

I don’t look at Carter as I move to the center of the mat. I won’t. But I can feel his eyes on me, and Marian’s, too. Two very different gazes.

The music starts and I let myself go, throwing myself into the performance, yelling my cheers with all the energy and enthusiasm I can muster. I throw my performance to the squad members on the bleachers—in my head the cheering crowd of a game. This. This is how I usually feel. Fun and free and totally engaged in the performance. The end is coming and I feel good. I know that I’ve nailed it. Everything is perfect.

Then it happens.

I glance down, towards the front of the mat—towards Carter—and I catch his eye. I was so engrossed in the routine that I had almost forgotten he was there, and in that split second, everything comes rushing back. I trip, nearly falling, and recover at the last second. I have to improvise some of the dance to get to my spot for the finale, but I finish and make sure my smile is as if nothing had gone wrong.

If I ever get him alone again, I’m going to kill him.

“Thank you, April,” Carter says.

I nod, smiling, and take my place back against the wall while the next person goes out to show the routine.

“What happened?” Kara asks.

I shrug. What am I going to say? I can’t tell her the truth. Not yet, at least. Not the time or the place. “Shoe got caught on the mat.”

“That sucks,” she says, “but you pulled it off. If I didn’t know the routine, I wouldn’t have even noticed.”

“Thanks.” I manage a small smile. Then we’re quiet as the music restarts, and we watch the same routine for the tenth time. At least when I get to tumble, I know that I can make up for tripping. Tumbling is my favorite part. Most girls want to be fliers, get the high lifts. I prefer the power of forcing myself into nearly impossible twists. It’s exhilarating.

It seems to take forever, but we get there. Carter calls anyone who wants to specifically show tumbling skills forward. There are only five of us. I volunteer to go first. I haven’t tumbled on this floor before, but I feel so ready for it. I’m going to make up for that stupid trip. The tumbling pass seems to unfold before me and it feels like I can almost see outside my body as I go. Run. Roundhouse, step out, double back handspring into a tuck. I land and turn, not letting the energy go, and start another pass. Run. This time I throw a layout and full twist, landing perfectly at the edge of the mat.

Kara stands up from the sidelines, shouting and clapping, “YEAH! That’s my girl!”

I blush, and everyone laughs, but I can’t help giving a smug glance towards Marian. She looks furious, and I know I’ve made a good impression. “Her actual cheering still needs more practice,” she says loudly, and I see Carter roll his eyes. I bite back the laugh that tries to force its way out of me as I leave the mat. Good to know her smear campaign isn’t working with him.

They give us a break when the tumbling is finished but tell us not to leave. I was surprised that they’d tell us who made the team so soon, but with Coach Ridley out, Carter wants to start building up the team as soon as possible. I don’t blame him. Being unexpectedly promoted into a job as visible as this is no small thing.

Kara reaches out and grasps my hand tightly. I’m about to ask her what’s going on, but then I see. Carter and Marian are standing in front of the group, and it’s decision time.

“Thanks for staying so late,” Carter says. “Might as well not keep you in suspense, right?”

Is it late? I hadn’t noticed. There’s nervous laughter all around at his words—we all want to know who’s going to make it.

“We’ve decided to ask twelve people to join us for a full squad of twenty-one. I’m going to call your names. They aren’t in any order, so don’t think if you’re called last you just barely made it, okay?”

That means the group will be cut in half again, and my stomach drops with nervousness. He starts listing of names and I count off on my fingers. When he reaches the sixth name I start to feel nauseous and I think Kara is going to squeeze my hand off. Then there’s the eighth name, and the ninth—

“April Collins.”

My body sags in relief and I glance at Kara. She’s smiling but scared. The tenth name isn’t her. The eleventh isn’t either. If she doesn’t make the squad, I’m not sure what I’ll do. The entire group of us take a breath as Carter gets ready to read the last name. “Kara Greenwood.”

Kara lets herself fall back against the mat. “Geeze. You trying to kill me before we even start?”

“I hope not,” Carter says, laughing. “For those who didn’t make it, I really appreciate you coming out. It wasn’t an easy decision. I hope that we’ll see you around and trying again next season.”

Trying to get up, I’m unable to because Kara has rolled over and tackled my legs in a hug. “We did it!”

“I know,” I smile. “I wasn’t sure what I was going to do if it was only one of us.” I’m trying to be happy, but all I have is a sinking feeling in my gut. Because now that I’m on this team, I’m going to see Carter all the time. Every day. He’ll be right there, plaguing my mind with memories and thoughts of what might have been if I hadn’t been so afraid. I should be celebrating right now. Instead, I just feel a little sick.

But I can do this. It was just one night, just a little make-out. And then a little more than a make out. But it doesn’t matter—I can move on and pretend it didn’t happen. We both can and should. We’re adults. Professional. No reason it has to be otherwise.

“Come on,” Kara says, pulling me towards where we left our bags. “If there’s anything that deserves a celebratory smoothie, it’s this.”

“Coming.” I follow her, but to get where she’s heading, I have to walk right by Carter. I do, and he gives me that sexy little smirk. His voice is low so no one else hears. “See you tomorrow.”

Crap. This is going to be so much harder than I thought.