by Lucia Franco
"Answer me," he demanded, his eyes shooting all around us.
"Nothing… I'm just nervous."
He paused before tearing off a strip of tape with his teeth. "Anything else?" he asked, lifting his eyes to look at me. Kova was acting strange.
"N-no," I said. "This is just a big meet and I'm honestly a ball of nerves, Coach. I'm nervous."
It wasn't a far stretch from the truth. I was nervous. The medications were kicking in and making me a little jittery on top of the meet stress. Unfortunately, they weren't helping with the fatigue. I was already drained. We’d traveled across the country for this one. The National Championships was a two-day meet where the best of the best gymnasts around the world competed, not to mention the Olympic team coaches were in attendance too. Next up if I got lucky was Worlds.
Kova’s eyes softened. Maybe it was all in my head. He applied the tape then ripped off another piece. "I understand. Just remember you are here because of the work you put in. You proved that you are worth it, that you can handle the pressure. You are now considered a valuable piece to the Olympic team. You have what it takes and deserve to be here."
I gave him an appreciative smile. "You're just trying to make me feel better."
"Whatever it takes, Adrianna. But you should know by now that I do not speak bullshit."
I chuckled. "I do not speak bullshit," I said in a low faux Russian accent. The corner of his mouth curved up and a sense of ease rolled over me.
"How does that feel?" he asked.
I flexed my foot and moved it around. "Good."
"What about here?" he asked and placed a hand to my calf. "We have not done blading in some time."
"I haven't really needed it, but it feels good. Thanks."
Kova stood and held his hand out. I took it and readjusted my leotard, pulling it to cover my butt. I glanced around the stadium once more, trying to see if I could spot my dad.
"Do you want to know where he is?" Kova asked.
I glanced at him. "How did you know I was looking for him?"
"Wild guess."
I knew it was against the rules to see or talk to family before a meet, but something inside my heart was reaching for the kind of comfort only a parent could give. With everything I was going through, I’d been more emotional lately. Sometimes a girl just needed her dad.
I chewed my lip and nodded my head. Kova turned around and pointed. My eyes searched as quickly as my heart beat for the familiar face.
It didn't take long. He was already waving before my eyes landed on him. Our eyes met and happiness burst through me. I smiled from ear to ear, waving frantically. I hadn't seen my dad in months, but I felt like I'd grown closer to him despite the distance between us.
"Thank you," I said softly. "I'm surprised you let me say hi." It wasn't meant maliciously, but honestly, and he knew that.
He shrugged one shoulder. "I just want you to be mentally prepared for today and tomorrow, and if saying good day to your father is necessary for that, then sometimes rules are meant to be broken."
We broke the rules every chance we got.
"Good day?" I laughed, and smiled. "See? You need to work on your English. No one says that. You sound like you're from the Stone Age."
"I say it." He played back. "And I am not old."
I was still smiling. "You're insufferable. At thirty-three, you're kinda old."
One brow peaked. "Kind of old?"
"When you start growing grays, isn’t that when you're considered old?"
His brows shot up to his hairline. "I have grays?" He patted his head.
I stifled a chuckle and tried not to smile. "I saw one the other day."
"One?" His eyes twinkled with amusement. "How close to my head were you to see one lone hair?"
I bit down on my lip and propped my hands on my hips. "I saw it, okay?"
"If I have gray hair, it is because of you, you know."
"Right," I said, drawing the word out through a smile from ear to ear. "You should start looking into dyes. After one, they start growing like weeds."
"Adrianna," he warned, and I burst out laughing at his tone. "You need to understand now that I will never dye my hair."
This was too much fun. "I can dye it for you."
"You will not."
"I'll get you to drink a lot of vodka one night. You won’t be able to say no."
"I already feel like that with you," he admitted, this time seriously. "I find it harder and harder to say no to you."
A shy smile tugged at my lips that grew into a full blown one. My cheeks heated. I liked this easy back and forth with Kova.
"So that's a yes? Cool. I'll start researching dyes for men, and while I'm at it, I'll look for hair regrowth."
Propping his hands on his hips, he smirked. "Nice try, but I am telling you right now that it will never happen. I do not need to color my hair to look young. You make me feel young, and that is all that matters."
Kova reached out but quickly pulled back. Recognition dawned in his eyes. Sometimes when it was just us being normal and playing around, we tended to forget the outside world. I felt his pull, his playful need to wrap his arms around me and tug me to him. I needed that too. My emotions had been an array of sadness and fear, and something as little as this interaction gave me life and a reprieve from my thoughts. People usually took the big moments in life as what spoke volumes, but for me, it was the little things.
"Thanks," I said softly. I brushed back a few strands of loose hair behind my ear. "For this." He knew what I meant without having to say it.
Kova nodded, regarding me with a heartfelt look in his eyes. The way my pulse beat for him wasn't normal. The way he looked at me wasn't normal. And what I felt deep in my bones for him most definitely wasn't normal.
"Okay." He clapped his hands. "Chalk up and let us get going. Yes?"
I turned to walk away, feeling so much lighter on my toes.
"Adrianna?"
"Yes?" I looked at him over my shoulder.
"It is nice to see you smile again. Oh, and when you get a private moment, check your duffle bag." He gave me a knowing look.
The notebook.
I could feel a flutter of the wing that had been clipped desperately trying to fly. Kova didn't know it, but he was breathing life back into me. Each day he helped me find my inner strength so I could grow strong enough to hold myself up again.
What scared me about that was I had a feeling he was going to be the only one who would help me get there.
This time I gave him a real smile that showed exactly what I felt in my heart. And I didn't give a shit if anyone saw.
"Okay," Kova said, rubbing my shoulders a few hours later. He bent down to look me in the eyes and said, "Two events down, two to go. You ready?"
I nodded. I was more than ready. I had this. After two rotations, I was in first place with just four-tenths of a point separating me from second. Anything could happen from here until the last event, but I had a good feeling about it. A really good feeling.
Those two events were my best ones—vault and bars. I stuck both dismounts and received almost maximum points for my routines.
"It is like gravity does not apply to you. You flowed more smoothly on bars than I have ever seen you do before and with height that made even my heart drop. Your lines could not have been more perfect. Let us do the same for beam."
The only event I was truly worried about was beam because of how jittery I already was. It was subtle, but enough to throw me off balance. My bones shook, muscles rattled, and I didn't like it. I couldn’t feel it on the other events, but I had a feeling I would on beam.
Kova grabbed my hands in his. He glanced down. "You are still shaking," he said more to himself.
I tightened my fingers around his. "I'll be fine," I said. "Just nerves." The flash of a camera caught my eyes and I pulled my hands from his.
"Nerves are a good thing if you channel them properly. Focus and control."
I nodd
ed and applied powder to my feet and hands, then to my inner thighs. I stood to the side, letting the judges know I was ready. When they gave me the green light, I saluted first then stepped onto the memory foam mat and walked up to the balance beam and faced it.
Exhaling a calm breath, my hands hovered over the four-inch piece of wood and shook a little. Clearing my mind of everything except this moment and what I was about to try and attain, I mellowed my soul and mounted the beam.
I finished eighty seconds later, both feet stuck together with a small hop that would cost me. But I felt good. Really, really good that as I walked off the podium, I went straight into Kova's arms.
We broke apart and walked toward my chair. I was breathing heavier than normal and my chest was a little tight. I rubbed the ache, thankful the pain in my back from the kidney infection had reduced to a dull throb.
"I wobbled on my turns."
"You still finished with an unparalleled amount of ease."
I glanced up at him. "I had two balance checks, Coach…"
"Everyone does," he said. "Just little things we will work on before Worlds."
Worlds.
I nodded and took a few sips of water then dropped the bottle back into my bag. I stood up and adjusted the sleeves of my all black leotard that had an enormous amount of peridot rhinestones. It'd been my favorite to wear to date, and the colors were finally a good match for my auburn hair.
My knee bobbed.
"What's taking so long?" I said just for him to hear.
I took a deep breath again to regain my poise, hoping I would catch my breath too. Kova glanced at me, his brows bunched together, but I averted my gaze quickly and acted normal. I had a gut feeling the wobble would knock me down to second place. Or maybe the hop would. Or something they saw that I didn't feel. Maybe it was all three.
"Patience is a virtue."
I scoffed. "I hate that saying."
"Does not matter that you slipped up. You still had the highest amount of difficulty in your—"
I looked up to see what had interrupted him and followed his gaze. Chills wracked down my arms.
My score posted.
The only deduction I received had to be for the balance checks because my score wasn't far from the max. In fact, it was almost too good to be true for an event that was considered my weakest.
I stood in disbelief. Kova, on the other hand, was losing it.
He turned toward me and grabbed my shoulders. "You do not give yourself enough credit," he said, his voice much higher than usual. I gazed into his lively eyes. "Well, say something!"
"I… I'm speechless." I really was. "How the hell did I pull that off?"
Kova let out a loud good-natured laugh. "I knew you could do it! When you place your focus properly, you dig deep to do whatever it takes to get you there. I see it every time when you compete." He pulled me in for a bear hug. "I am so damn proud of you," he said then pulled back and grabbed my shoulders again and gave me a little shake.
A bashful smile splayed across my face. It wasn't over, but I could breathe a little easier knowing I only had floor left.
"Give yourself a pat on the back."
I literally patted my shoulder, and Kova smiled at me with more pride in his eyes than I'd ever seen before.
I was going to rock my floor routine.
Sixteen
"How does it feel to come in first place?" Dad asked, his voice full of cheer.
It'd been a couple of hours since we got back to the hotel room and the disbelief still hadn't worn off. Dad hadn't stopped smiling. Seeing my final score left me stunned with too many feelings to sift through. It was overwhelming in the greatest way. Today was my best meet to date, but it also required the most energy from me. Now my body was settling, and my muscles were crunching up into tight coils.
I couldn't believe I finished in first in prelims on the first day of nationals. On the airplane to the meet, I'd read a few articles that predicted I had a chance of finishing in the top three. The pros expected Sloan to take it because she was that good and finished in first place nine times out of ten. But I took it, while she fell to third.
I glanced at my dad, who was still smiling.
"I'm happy, but this is a really big meet. I still have another day, you know? I don't want to get ahead of myself, so I'm trying to remain calm and collected but prepare for the worst."
Today was surreal, but tomorrow was a new day with new possibilities. I could fall to third, and Sloan could take first. Anything was possible.
Dad's eyes glistened with pride. "My daughter is going to the Olympics." He took a sip from his crystal tumbler and grinned behind it.
I rolled my eyes and a little chuckle escaped me. "Don't get ahead of yourself. I'm not going to the Olympics just yet. There's still tomorrow, and then another competition after this. It really comes down to the committee and whether they think I can handle it or not."
"You're going all the way. I can feel it. Mark my words."
"I'm glad you can."
He tilted his head and a puzzled look crossed his face. "You don’t?"
I glanced over his shoulder at the sheer curtains that hung from the ceiling to the floor in the penthouse suite of his hotel room. They reminded me of my current status: a foggy future that will be hard to wade through.
Anxiety filled my chest and a level of dejection settled in me. My life would forever have some sort of barrier to work through. Learning a new neck-breaking skill at practice didn't seem so terrifying anymore. Tomorrow seemed scary. Next week, next month, a year from now, it seemed impossible.
"I have hope."
"Okay." My dad placed his glass down and leveled a stare at me. "What's on your mind? You hardly ate dinner, and now you have hope? That's not you. Talk to me, sweetheart."
I squeezed my eyes tight, then I opened up about my insecurities.
"Today wore me out, both physically and mentally. I can barely keep my eyes open right now, and tomorrow is going to be even more exhausting. I ache everywhere," I said. "My bones actually hurt. It was hard today, Dad. Really hard. I was running on adrenaline and stubbornness but now I feel like I'm about to crash any second. I'm fighting it, honestly. Monday's practice will leave me crawling. Tuesday will be a fight to get out of bed. Wednesday will make me want to give up. It's been like this for months now and I never knew. I'm wondering when it'll all catch up to me—because it will. I selfishly ignored the signs for so long when I should've addressed them. Now they're stronger than me and pulling me down because I can't stop thinking about them. I pushed myself, which I can keep doing just like I've always done, but I'm worried I'm going to make everything worse and work against myself to the point that if I actually get handpicked for the Olympic team I physically won't be able to make it."
He regarded me with sympathy. Softly, he said, "You mean the kidney disease and lupus? I never would've guessed it's even been on your mind. You hold yourself together so well."
I nodded faintly. One corner of my mouth tugged miserably to the side. Even when I was sleeping it was on my mind because I'd wake thinking about it. I couldn't escape the way it was suffocating me.
"Today made me realize just how big this battle is. I don't want to make myself any sicker," I said quietly. "But I'm terrified I will with the way I keep pushing my body. That's why I don't want to get my hopes up."
"Listen, I've done some research and spoke to a couple of people. While there hasn't been a whole lot of athletes who've gone to the Olympics with an autoimmune disease and kidney disease, there have been a few with one or the other. With the right attitude and team of doctors, it can be done. You have both. You just have to have faith. Think positive and remember it can always be worse. Yes, the signs were there, but anyone would've mistaken them for overtraining. Don't beat yourself up over that. Try not to think about the things that can possibly hold you back, but look forward to this life you have and how lucky you are to have gotten this far when others haven't."
"There are so many more struggles now. So many more risks I'm taking that can hold me back. I'm worried I won't get there even if I have the aptitude. Like it's so close, but this fear, this voice in my head telling me it's hopeless and I won't make it because no matter how hard I fight I won't have the strength to keep going. It's so loud and always there. I hate it."
"You're the only one who thinks that way. You do have what it takes, you just can't see it yet because this is still very fresh for you, for us."
Harsh lines creased between my eyes. "What do you mean I'm the only one who thinks that way?"
Dad observed me for a long moment, unblinking. The silence grew thicker, dread curled its way into my stomach, one hefty bag of coal at a time.
No.
He wouldn't.
"Dad," I said, rattled. I sat up straighter. "Dad, you promised—"
He waved his hand through the air. "I just meant you're too deep in your head and reading too many what-ifs online. You put too much pressure on yourself and start thinking the worst. That's all."
"I had to read about the diseases so I could understand them."
I read all the good and the bad, even though it reduced me to ugly tears at times. Some of it was downright disheartening, but I couldn't live in denial. Being practical was smart. I needed to know. I had to. So I lost myself in article after article until I fell asleep most nights. It bothered me that he couldn't see it from my point of view and respect the fact I was studying up on it. I thought he, more than anyone, would want me to be informed.
His familiar eyes softened. "Your body is already used to this type of strenuous activity, sweetie, and has been for quite some time now. Nothing has changed except for up here," he said and tapped the side of his head.
I bit down on the inside of my lip and chewed it. I leaned back again as tears filled my eyes. "I'm not a mental case." My voice shook. "I'm just nervous."
"I never said you were. You're stressing yourself out when you have everything under control. Don't let yourself fall down a dark hole. It's not healthy."