The Hardest Cut by Jamie Bennett (book club recommendations .TXT) 📕

the smile.  Even if I wasn’t a gymnast, at least I had nice teeth, thanks to my mom and all the money she’d spent at the orthodontist.  It was an investment in my future, she’d told me, and I hoped that investment would pay out now.

At the end of the practice, after he finally called for a stop to our roundoff work, Coach Sam had us all take another knee and said that we needed to talk about something important.  He looked around at all of our faces and then shook his head.

“Uh, Rylah will say it,” he told us, and gestured her forward.

She shot him a look but stepped up.  “Ok, so, we don’t have weight standards for our squad.  We don’t use scales here in the studio, we don’t use fat calipers.  But we all want to be healthy and appear to our best advantage, right?  Just like the conquistadors did, eons ago.”

I squinted, thinking back to World History.  The conquistadors—

“So, we’re not taking your measurements on a weekly basis, but returning cheerleaders know that we will be using the same uniform sizes as last year.  And they better fit,” she said, glaring around the room.  “If they don’t, that’s a big issue.  Huge.”  I heard audible gulps and some nervous giggles.

“But health is what matters,” Rylah continued sunnily.  “Semper fidelis, right?”

“That’s the motto of the Marine Corps,” Nadira muttered, but no one dared to laugh.

“If you don’t think you’re healthy, then you need to work on that!” Rylah grinned at us but it was gone in a heartbeat.  “Like, immediately.  Now.  Pull it together or walk out the door.”

I tried not to look over at Kennedy, the returning dancer whom Addison had accused of having a bigger butt than last year, but I did slide one little glance in her direction.  Addison had fully turned to stare at her and she wasn’t the only one.  Kennedy looked at the floor and a red flush bloomed on her cheeks.  The women sitting on either side of her scooted closer and one put her arm around Kennedy’s shoulders.

The head coach cleared his throat.  “Ok.  First thing, we’ve arranged a locker room tour for you trainees, led by our co-captains for this season, Aubin and Genesis.”  We all clapped happily.  “For most of you,” he amended.  “We have notes from this week and from the tryouts, and some of you ladies will stay back to talk to Rylah and me about them and about your future here.”

No.  No, not me.  Please, not me.  I smiled, as carefree as I could look, and died inside.

“Kenny, honey, we’ll talk to you first,” he told the veteran, and she visibly shrank back and started to cry.  Sam looked pained and cleared his throat.  “Then, let’s see…number twenty-four, Vanessa, eighty-two, Danna, number twenty-one, Kacie, and number ninety-three, Luna.”

I blew out a huge breath and relief swamped me, making my muscles turn to jelly.  I had survived—

“Oh, and number seventeen.”  Sam looked across the studio at me.  “Gaby.”

“Don’t worry!” Caitlyn told me as the rest of the girls followed the captains toward the door.  “I know you won’t get cut.  You’re so gorgeous!” she complimented.  “And your dancing is just fine,” she added, with a lot less conviction.  But the locker room tour was starting and Aubin was calling everyone over.

“I’m sure it will work out,” I said, smiling.  “If I do get cut, I’ll consider myself fortunate to have gotten this far.”  Which was true, but it sure wouldn’t make it feel any better.

“Good luck!” Caitlyn told me, and squeezed my shoulder before she skipped away to join the tour, so obviously happy not to be on the chopping block herself.  I couldn’t blame her.

“If I get cut, I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Vanessa muttered as we waited outside Sam’s office, and I remembered her saying the same thing in the parking lot before the first audition a few weeks ago.  Just like I’d done then, I stealthily scooted away.

“What would you do other than cry?” Luna asked scornfully.  I didn’t know her all that well, but I had noticed her falling out her turns a few times today.  Apparently, the judges had, too.

“I can’t help sweating!” Kacie told us, already tearful herself.  “I even went to the doctor, but she said it’s just how my body works!  There’s nothing physically wrong with me but I’ve been using these creams and prescription stuff and—”

The door to Coach Sam’s office flew open and Kennedy, the returning cheerleader, came out.  Her eyes were practically swollen shut from crying and she grabbed her gear bag and ran from the studio without saying a word.  All of us newbies looked at each other in horror.

“Did they just cut a vet?” Danna whispered.  And it was her turn next.

Kennedy hadn’t been cut, but Danna was.  She announced that information at the top of her voice when she left the office and then bolted to the parking lot, sobbing.  I felt terrible for her and my heart sank a little lower about my own chances.  Luna was next, but she just got a stern talking to about focus and discipline.  She beamed and whispered that she hoped to see us at the next practice and Kacie went in for her turn.

“I better not get cut.  I better not get cut!” Vanessa repeated under her breath.  She sat with her knees pulled up to her chin and rocked a little.

I had to ask.  “Really, what would you do if that happened?”

“I’ll…I’ll…” she sputtered, rage building on her face as I waited in horrified anticipation.

But before Vanessa finished her threat, the office door opened, and when I saw Kacie, I knew that the worst had happened for her.  She only whispered it—whimpered it, actually: “Cut.”  The excess sweat really wasn’t her fault, either, and she was a lovely dancer!  I hugged her as Vanessa went in for her conference, and I tried to convince Kacie that things would be