Hallie presses her lips together like she’s trying not to wince or groan. I kneel down in front of her, gripping both of her hands in mine. I have to go off script.

“Look, I know that we’ve been saying all day that you should just pretend like this is a normal day, and that you should just chill out and not sweat the competition, but that isn’t going to work for floor,” I tell her bluntly.

“What do you mean?” she asks.

“This is the most important performance you’ve ever had,” I tell her honestly. “You need to pour every ounce of energy, every ounce of passion into this routine. Go out there and enjoy every single second of it, because this is what you’ve been training for your entire life.”

The hairs on my arms stand up on end. Hallie locks her eyes with mine and nods seriously.

“This is it,” she says.

“This is it,” I repeat. “No matter what the outcome is, I’ll always be so proud of you. But I want you to feel proud of yourself, too, and that means giving it your all.”

“I can do that,” she says.

She gives me a hug and heads to floor to warm up.

“That was a solid pep talk,” Ryan says.

I groan. “I just hope it was enough.”

I’m almost too antsy to watch Hallie practice her tumbling passes, but I know I have to pay attention in case there’s any last-minute practical advice I should offer her. I wish we could just fast-forward through the fourth rotation.

Finally, enough time creaks by and it’s Hallie’s turn to compete on floor. Ryan and I stand fifteen feet to the left of the judges’ table, which is just about as close as we can get without causing a distraction. Adrenaline rushes through me as her name is announced over the loudspeaker one more time.

Hallie composes herself at the edge of the floor. She smiles warmly at the judges as she salutes, then gracefully walks to her starting spot. She settles into position and waits for her music to begin. For a moment, everything is still and quiet—or as quiet as a bustling arena like this can be. She’s a vision in sparkling red. As the jazzy opening notes play, she blossoms into a swirl of motion. The flick of her wrist is precise and delicate; the swing of her hips is flashy and flirty. She’s always been a gymnast, but here, after months of hard work, she’s developed the grace of a dancer, too.