“I just don’t understand why you would leave there and come here,” she stated. “Your dad couldn’t build a gym for you?”
Was she serious? The urge to roll my eyes was strong at her condescending comment. “If you must know, I wanted a better gym and my dad happened to be friends with Kova, so it worked out perfectly.”
I didn’t like confrontation, but I also didn’t cower away from it when the time called. She had absolutely no reason to feel the way she did about me. Plus, the last thing I needed was for Coach to think I had drama with any of his team girls.
“Seriously, Reagan?” She looked at me. “What’s your problem? You hardly speak to me, yet you clearly can’t stand the sight of me. What did I do to you? Let’s just clear the air now because your attitude is getting old.”
She gnashed her teeth together and stepped to me. “You want to know what my problem is? My problem is Coach pays you more attention than anyone else and I just don’t get it. It’s like his sole focus is on you and it’s not fair. You don’t deserve it.”
Cry me a fucking river. “What are you talking about? He trains with you and all the other girls everyday as usual.”
She shook her head, huffing. “He took time away from working with us so he can work on you more. I mean, God knows you need the extra hours and all, but it’s still not right. And believe me, we’ve all noticed how he looks at you.”
I froze. No. No way could someone see anything at all between us. We were good at hiding the tension, at least I thought we were. Reagan’s words hurt, but I needed to shield my emotions immediately. I pushed away her last comment and planned to deal with it later.
“So you want more attention, then? Is that what it is?”
“I don’t need attention. I need a coach who puts in as much time with me as he does for every gymnast here. He used to be like that, but once you got here it’s like he completely changed, which can only mean one reason. You.” She lowered her voice and looked down at me. “I work harder than anyone here, and I refuse to have it all taken away. I have goals and dreams, too. Not just you, Adrianna.”
As much as I tried not to let her words bother me, they did. The looks, the comments, they all grated on my nerves. I was tired of feeling like I wasn’t good enough. I worked just as hard as any of these girls.
“You’re wrong.” Standing up, I decided to walk away. Tears were welling in my eyes and I didn’t want her to see. I refused to listen to any more of her bitter bullshit. Rips were most likely happening, so I knew I needed to load up with as much chalk as I could now.
With my stomach in knots and tears burning the back of my eyes, I felt myself slipping. The toll my emotions were taking came close to the edge and I needed to get them under control before I broke.
Grabbing the honey, I squirted my hands, and patted on more chalk. Reagan’s words replayed in my head as I repeated the process, over and over again.
Walking to the uneven bars, Hayden grabbed my arm midstride to stop me.
“Where are your grips?” he asked, glancing at my wrists then back to my eyes, knowing the kind of end result I could face.
I shrugged. “I have no idea, Hayden.” I said, dejectedly. “I thought I had them—”
“Hey Reagan, let Adrianna borrow an extra pair of your grips, would ya?”
“What are you doing,” I whispered at him, yanking my arm away. “You know she can’t stand me and honestly, I don’t want any favors from her.”
I could swear I’d seen my grips in my bag this morning. The thought crossed my mind that maybe Reagan purposely took them out. I wouldn’t put it past her. She seemed hell bent on wanting me to fall.
“If she’s so rich, then why doesn’t she have more?” Her squeaky voice was like nails on a chalkboard. I’d give anything to rub chalk on her vocal chords so she didn’t sound like a mouse.
“Don’t worry, Reagan. I like the bloody rips on my hands. It feels so good when the chalk hits my red, irritated skin, turning my hands raw. What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger, right?”
Tightening my ponytail, I gripped the low bar and swung into a glide kip. With my hips back, I extended my legs as far as they could go so I was in a perfect horizontal line, and felt the pull in my stomach. I brought my toes to the bar and piked to a kip, then cast to a handstand, holding it for three seconds, before doing a glide kip out so my arms were straight and my thighs rested very lightly on the bar.
I turned to Reagan. “Guess this means Coach will just be giving me more attention since I’m without my grips today.”
Casting to a handstand on the low bar once again, I piked down and swung around in a straddle position and released the low bar. With my hips high in the air, I twisted my body completely around and reached for the high bar.
Chalk sprinkled down lightly when I grasped the bar, and I closed my eyes. Doing a few light release moves allowed me to warm up as I swung from bar to bar with ease, while it stretched out my sore muscles. It felt good, and I had to admit I loved the pull on my body. Everything just faded away. It was like a stress reliever and I embraced it every single time. Especially now.
I warmed up with a few handstands and pirouettes, making sure I hit them in vertical, then a Giant to a flyaway dismount. I warmed up once more and decided instead of doing a flyaway again, I would go for a double layout. It wasn’t really common in a warm up, but it was something I mastered long ago and could do in my sleep.
Two Giants completed, I released. The bar ricocheted loudly, springs bouncing. I flew through the air, making sure I kept my body straight as a board and my hips opened while I flipped back two times before driving my heels into the ground. I landed with a slight wobble. A rolling flame of heat shot up my calf, but I forced it out of my head.
“Nice, Aid!” Hayden yelled excitedly as he walked over to the pommel horse.
All Reagan could manage was a glare. Before I could say anything, Coach Kova yelled across the gym, “Nice job, Adrianna. Tighten up a little more.”
Naturally he saw my wobble, but nothing got past the man. “It was just a warm up, Coach.” I responded back and he nodded in approval, his eyes gleaming with contentment.
That was the first real thing Kova had said to me in weeks. I needed it, I needed his backing after what Reagan said. I needed to know I was making progress in his eyes, that my hard work did not go unnoticed. Other than commands about gymnastics skills, we hardly spoke. I’d come to accept his stiff personality after what happened between us.
I turned and smiled brightly at a seething Reagan, who stepped around to mount the bar and begin her routine. But just before she did, she threw an extra set of grips at my feet.
“You know, Coach works with you the way he does because he feels bad. You’re not good enough to be here, and it’s obvious you never will be. Why do you think he puts in so much time with you? It’s the same way with Hayden. Holly told me Hayden said you have no friends and you’re alone all the time, so he’s friends with you out of pity. I’m not surprised, though. Hayden’s a good guy. It’s in his nature to go out of his way to help those in need.”
The satisfaction I felt moments earlier was gone. Tears pooled in my eyes again at her heartless words. Months of hard work and emotional avoidance bubbled at the surface. I didn’t want to cry, but her words stung and I felt them ready to spill over.
“No one here likes you, and the one friend you have isn’t a real one. Your coach and your only friend have no faith in you whatsoever.” She laughed, mockingly. “You should just leave now. You’ll never amount to being an Olympic gymnast, Adrianna Rossi. You don’t have what it takes and you never will.”
With that, she smiled and turned to mount the bar. I walked back over to the chalk bowl, my heart pounding against my chest. I was sick to my stomach. Her words rang in my ears, getting louder and heavier. They couldn’t be true.
A fat tear slipped down my cheek at the reality of my life and I quickly wiped it away. Embarrassment over forgetting my grips clogged my throat, and my chest tightened from the humiliation Reagan just dealt me. I was suffocating in a bowl of fucking chalk. Somehow I had been completely oblivious to my surroundings. I’d been used to snotty girls back home, but Reagan was a true mean girl, and I didn’t know how to deal with it. I’ve been taught to handle things with poise and control, not act like a loose cannon, but her words were cruel and they struck deep. All I wanted to do was retaliate.
But I didn’t. Instead, I took the higher road and began powdering my hands as another tear fell into the bowl, her words repeating in my head.
Taking a deep breath, I exhaled and let all the bullshit out. I looked up at the gym around me and locked eyes with Kova, who was staring at me intently.
I didn’t want to appear weak, but there was no way to stop another warm tear from rolling down my cheek. Kova’s eyes darkened, his jaw set tight. He glanced at Reagan for a long moment before giving me one more look. This time it was filled with concern that caused my belly to clench. His gaze said more than I think he wanted to give away.
Before turning toward the bars, I wiped the tears away so Reagan wouldn’t see she got to me. I refused to show her she’d won this battle.
But she wouldn’t win the war.
T
hree long-assed weeks passed by where Kova and I skated around each other. To be fair, I kept my focus primarily on gymnastics.
It wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be. In fact, it was downright hard. Being in a gym and training for nearly fifty hours a week was a daunting task alone. I’d been taking extra dance classes and spending hours transforming my body just so I could reach Kova’s standards. Sadly, I didn’t know if I’d ever meet them, because he sure as hell wouldn’t tell me.
Add in an illicit act between a coach and his athlete and see where that got you. Especially an athlete he has to personally train for a number of those hours.
I’d caught him sneaking glances, touching me more than needed during gym, practices lasting longer. In his defense, I’d been doing the same thing to him. The tension was mounting between us, but where was it going? There was no outlet for any of it. It was just brewing, the pressure building to an unhealthy level.
Worst of all, I started to worry if anyone else noticed. Especially after the comments Reagan made.
Things were getting to me. Not to mention, I was almost positive there was something wrong with my calf, which wasn’t helping the situation—or my life. The pain would come and go in the beginning, so I tended not to focus on it. But now that it was starting to appear more often than not, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was something serious. It was stressing me out more than ever. My mind was on edge with all the thoughts running through it, and the silence of my condo was eating at me.
Today was my one day off. I’d been restless, all alone and nothing to fill the void. I needed to get out. Avery was nowhere to be found, which was pissing me off. If I knew her, there was a good chance she was with her mystery guy. She’d given me the fuck you button a few times already. I cleaned every square inch I could and there was nothing on Netflix worth watching. I even tried to read a book in hopes it would help me escape the monotony of my life.
Nothing helped.
I was beginning to drive myself crazy over everything that had happened since arriving at World Cup. My head was pounding. I needed to zone out and forget about it all, and the one thing that would allow me any form of relief was gymnastics.
I wanted to train, I needed to. I needed the release it brought on.
Pulling open the door to the gym, I blew an unruly auburn strand of hair from my face. The gym was typically closed on Sunday, which meant I would be alone and without the constant observation from my team and coaches.
Just what I wanted.
Flipping on the lights in the dance room, I dropped my stuff on the wood floor and walked to the shelf that held the radio. Funny how Kova had radios in the actual gym, but he wouldn’t put one in the therapy room. I needed music, otherwise the silence would ruin my train of thought.
I decided I’d work on the skills I learned in the stupid ballet classes I was forced to take. I wondered how much longer I’d have to take them. They weren’t as bad as I thought they’d be, I just didn’t care for them. Maybe this was what separated me from being a mediocre gymnast and an incredible gymnast in Kova’s eyes. It was no secret I hated ballet, but I wasn’t naive enough to think I didn’t need it anymore. I hated admitting ballet played a large part in gymnastics. The components had not only increased my flexibility and balance, but the coordination and discipline required made a huge difference, especially on the floor.