CHAPTER 2
BEAM BRUISING
Sofia’s body slammed into the beam, headfirst. Her spine rattled, and her head exploded in a burst of pain. She slipped, scrambling for the beam, but couldn’t grab on. A second later, she hit the mats.
Through the ringing in her ears, Sofia heard her teammates gasp and Rana shout, “Sofia!”
A moment later, Coach Jackson leaned over her, touching her face. “Don’t move,” the coach said.
Sofia couldn’t have moved if she’d wanted to. Coach Jackson ran her hands down Sofia’s arms and legs.
“OK, turn your head back and forth,” she said. “Now move your arms and legs.”
Sofia groaned at the pain in her head and back. She tried to breathe deeply as Coach and Rana helped her sit up, but then nausea overwhelmed her. Leaning over, she threw up right on the mat.
“I’m so sorry,” Sofia whispered, tears filling her eyes. “It was my fault. My foot was in the wrong spot.”
“Yeah, I saw that,” Coach said. “You know you can’t execute a move like that if you don’t start correctly. I’ve taught you that for years.” She leaned over. “Honey, your pupils are different sizes. I think you might have a concussion.”
Sofia closed her eyes against the blinding headache. “What was that sound?” she managed to ask. “That boom?”
“Just the door,” Rana said gently. “The wind slammed it closed.”
Sofia groaned. “It threw me off,” she said.
She wished she could hide. Coach always made it clear that gymnasts only had themselves to blame if they went into a move without a perfect setup. Sofia had tried ever since she was six not to make a mistake like that. And now she had.
* * *
Dr. Berman withdrew the auriscope from Sofia’s ear. “No skull fracture,” she said. She gently moved Sofia’s head back and forth. “And you say you vomited? Can you count backward from twenty by fours?”
“Twenty, sixteen, twelve, eight, four, zero . . . ,” Sofia counted slowly.
She wanted to stop shaking but couldn’t. Her head hurt so badly. She glanced at Tia, who was sitting very straight and stiff in the other chair. Tia had rushed to the gym as soon as Coach Jackson had called. She’d insisted that they drive straight to Dr. Berman’s office.
Dr. Berman started typing on her laptop. “Well, with your pupils different sizes, the direct head hit, and the vomiting, I’d say you gave yourself a pretty good concussion, Sofia,” she said.
Sofia started crying. She’d never had a concussion before. Sure, she’d had plenty of injuries—bruises, sprained fingers, shin splints. That came with being a gymnast. But she’d never had a head injury.
“When can I go back to the gym?” she asked. “I can’t take too much time off. I have meets to prepare for. My coach is counting on me!”
“You need a few weeks off,” Dr. Berman said. “Don’t go near the gym. We’ll do a follow-up visit, and once I clear you, you can start back. But I want you resting in the meantime. Got it?” Dr. Berman paused with her hand on the exam room doorknob.
Sofia nodded, looking at her lap. She didn’t want to rest. She wanted to travel back in time, before today ever happened.