I land with a thud,
stumble backward,
just barely keep my feet.
The audience groans.
Coach hustles over. Hannah
Lincoln, I want you to dig down
deep and take control. You’ve
worked too hard to give up
like this. Do you understand?
I nod. “Yes, Coach.”
Let’s see a perfect second vault.
It isn’t perfect, but it’s really
good. Problem is, averaged
with my first score, it still
leaves me near the bottom
of the vault leaderboard.
The girls all finish their rotations
and the judges make their final
tallies. It wasn’t my best day,
but neither was it my worst.
I earn a silver medal
in balance beam,
and another in bars.
The two scores together
don’t level me up, but
they do help the Comets
finish second overall
and take the runner-up trophy.
Too bad only one of my parents
is here to see me accept my awards.
Definition of Incorrigible:
Not Fixable
The Lincoln family tradition
is to go for pizza after every meet.
Usually, Misty comes along,
and sometimes the whole team
celebrates at Bruno’s Pies.
But after that runner-up
performance, not to mention
the commotion with Cal,
everyone begs off, including Misty.
But I’ll see you at Brylee’s party
tomorrow, right?
“Guess so.”
Gee, don’t sound so jazzed.
“Sorry. Yeah, I’ll be there.”
Brylee’s birthday blast is at
the skating rink, and all the kids
are excited because it’s boy-girl.
Not that anyone in our class
is going together, and the only
reason both girls and boys
are coming is because
Brylee’s mom said
everyone had to be invited.
Everyone.
Which is why I’m not exactly
thrilled, because that includes Cal.
Wonder what kind of stunt he’ll pull.
The possibilities are endless.
Dad meets me at the locker room
door. He lifts me high, smooshes
me in a bear hug, and his bushy
blond mustache tickles my cheek.
Great meet, Bug. You were awesome!
The nickname makes me smile.
When I was, like, three or four,
my very first dance troupe
was the Ladybugs. Dad’s into
abbreviations. “I could’ve done better.”
Hey, you killed the beam and
rocked the bars, and if it wasn’t for . . .
well, you know. He changes the subject.
Hope you’re hungry. I called Bruno’s
and ordered an extra-large Super Combo.
Way to erase my smile.
“Cal’s coming, too?” Super Combos
are his favorite. I like them
okay, but Hawaiian is better.
Why is he getting the reward?
The plan is for Mom and Cal
to meet us there. Oh, and I
also ordered a small Hawaiian.
“All for me?”
Who else? Let’s go. I skipped
breakfast to make my plane
and I’m starving.
We’re quiet for the first
part of the ride, but finally
I say, “I’m glad you made it today.”
I give it my best try every time.
By the way, if I haven’t told you
lately, I’m so proud of what
you’ve accomplished, I could burst!
“Don’t do that. Then you’ll be
gone forever.” I meant it as a joke,
but it didn’t come out funny.
“I wish you could be home more.”
I know. I miss you, too. He thinks
for a minute. You should probably
know I have some big contracts
coming up and might be gone
even more for a while.
“No!”
I’m sorry, but we need the income.
Money. Right. Or maybe
he’d rather be on the road.
Alone. Away from the problems
at home. Especially one very
big problem named Cal.
“Hey, Dad? Are you and Mom
okay?” They have to be. I’d die
if they got divorced, like Brylee’s
parents. She hardly ever sees
her father. I need mine.
Before Dad can answer, his phone
buzzes and the car’s hands-free
system picks up for him. It’s Mom.
Um . . . We’ve had a little trouble.
Can you bring the pizza home?
Dad scowls. What happened now?
The screen on my phone is totaled.
I told Cal he’ll have to help pay for
the repair. He insisted it was your
fault, that you have to cover it, then
jumped out of the car and took off.
Not again! Dad complains.
Cal says it’s how he cools off.
But he wants to make us worry.
Last time he was gone for hours.
Dad was about to call the police
when Cal wandered in. He won’t say
where he goes, only that it’s safe.