the second I see his face I know something is wrong
his lips are tight and thin
and his eyes are wide
scared

he is very early

I look around for my coach, who
is looking at Presley’s ankle
and I jog over to the bleachers

“She’s in the hospital again.”
I nod
knowing full well this is not good

“You should go,” I say. “It’s alright.”

he pulls me into a tight hug
his breathing rapid
he lingers there
holding me like a drowning man

when he lets go
his expression is still controlled
but his eyes are redder, wetter

“I’ll drive out later,” I say

he nods
touches my cheek
and is gone

I’m not in the mood
for gymnastics anymore