by Lucia Franco
A tear slid down my cheek. I relied on her too much. It was selfish of me, and I didn't realize she needed me the way I did her. I was too consumed with my life to recognize anyone else's.
A light tap sounded on my door. I quickly wiped away my tears as Kova stepped inside. Our eyes locked and his face crumbled when he took in the site of me. He wasn't angry with my antics anymore—his face showed nothing but sympathy for me.
Everything came roaring back. How conniving I'd been toward him, how self-centered I was toward Avery, how I forced Hayden to carry a burden of lies for me. Tears fell like a waterfall and Kova rushed over and gathered me into his arms.
"Come, malysh. Come here," he said, pulling me close to him. "I take it that was your mother?"
I shook my head. "Avery," I said through the tears.
"I imagine that is worse for you."
More tears fell and I nodded. My heart hurt so bad. Kova climbed into my bed and got under the covers with me. He aligned his body with mine and I cried silently into his chest. He kept me warm and comforted.
"I'm sorry for ruining your life," I said, my voice muffled. It felt like I left a tarnished imprint in everyone's life lately.
He kissed my forehead and snuggled me to him. "You have not ruined my life. If anything, you have made it better."
My jaw trembled. "Kova?"
"Yes," he said, rubbing the back of my head. Fatigue hit me hard, I could barely keep my eyes open much longer.
"You should probably go home. It's getting late." And I'm sure Katja is wondering where you are, I wanted to add.
"I am right where I want to be. Now go to sleep."
Chapter Thirty-Five
Exhaustion had caught up to me.
"Adrianna, have you lost weight? You look awfully thin today."
I picked my head up and met Kova's concerned gaze. He stood before me, his face scrunched together while his eyes scanned the length of my body. He gawked unhappily while I dug through my gym bag searching for my wristbands. I had vault with Madeline soon.
"Um, no? Not that I know of, but even if I had, wouldn't that be a good thing?" I mocked with annoyance, rolling my eyes.
"Excuse me?" he retorted, placing his hands on his hips.
It’s been over three weeks straight of this self-induced madness I had asked for. Over three weeks of long and grueling, hardcore extra conditioning. Fifteen-hour day practices, muscles so overworked it hurt to walk or even lift a fork, sports tape covering various parts of my body, so much Motrin I should be committed for abusing it. Biting words crammed with harsh disagreements hurled back and forth. And of all things to say, my coach asked me if I had lost weight.
He should be fucking beaming if I had.
Okay…I was a little cranky lately.
I dropped my bag and stood taller, digging my heels into the floor. I winced. Today was not my day. I had an awful headache and my Achilles was throbbing terribly. It started out as a dull twinge here and there over a week ago and had progressed into a fiery pulse since then. But I had hidden it well, no one would suspect I'd been dealing with this new pain.
Not to mention, I peed blood again, only this time it wasn't as much.
Lowering my voice, my heart sped up as I said, "You repeatedly tell me I sound like an elephant when I land. Obviously, I'm too fat for your taste. My mom is still harping on me. It wasn't like I was trying to lose weight, but if it happened, then I'd called that a blessing in disguise. Wouldn't you?"
Kova stepped closer, a cruel darkness swirling about him. I swallowed hard.
"I am getting sick of your attitude, little girl. I have done nothing but give you what you begged me for every day, and every day you reward me with a sharp tongue I want to cut out. I do not know who you think you are talking to me like that, but it is getting old. You better get rid of that attitude fast."
"Or what?" I snapped, putting emphasis on the T. I licked my dry lips and Kova watched, his forehead creasing together.
Just when I thought he was going to come back with another ultimatum, he caught me off guard.
Kova titled his head to the side to scan my body again. Now he seemed alarmed more than anything, like he actually looked at me.
"Are you sleeping enough?"
"What?"
"Answer the question. Are you sleeping? You have bags under your eyes, you are haggard looking. I guarantee if I put you on a scale it would show weight loss. And you are moody."
"I sleep like a baby," I lied. I hadn't slept in weeks, not since the night Kova stayed over. I was running on fumes, past the brink of exhaustion, and yet, somehow, I was still here giving it my all. I think it was sheer will and determination that drove me, because my body was ready to collapse at any minute. Maybe a dash of hardheadedness. Who needed sleep when their future was a ticking time bomb? I had one week until my first meet. There was no time to sleep when I had so much to do.
He squinted his eyes. "Is there something you want to talk to me about, maybe? Did I do something? Am I pushing you too hard?"
I scoffed. "I'm dealing with PMS. My cramps are terrible and I'm about to get my period. Not everything is about you, Kova." Partially true. Mostly a lie.
All I ever did now was lie.
Kova closed his mouth, but I knew by the look in his eyes he didn't believe me. I was overworked, and I was fucking tired. I had no time to sleep.
I could sleep when I'm dead.
His arms dropped to his sides and pity filled his face. Kova's entire mood shifted. "Go home, Ria," he said softly.
Fire fueled me, my eyes widened. "What? No!" I rebutted, stepping back. "You have no reason to send me home."
He took a step toward me and cupped my shoulder with empathy. "I can see it in your face that you are drained. You look like shit. I worried practicing at this magnitude would set you back."
"Oh, please. I've only gotten better, and you know it. But Coach Kova has a bug up his ass. When he gets mad, gymnasts must leave," I mocked, rolling my eyes, and regretted the words the moment they left my lips. I sounded like a damn child.
He was still soft with me. "Yes, you give me lip, and yes, I take it, but this is not like you, Adrianna. It worries me. Go home and sleep. Your body obviously needs it. Take tomorrow off and go to the doctor. Get your vitals checked. You have not been yourself lately. If you do not, and you keep up this behavior, the closer the competition gets, the weaker you get. It will not end well for you."
I stood my ground, grinding my teeth together. "I'm not weak."
"I would never take you for a weak person."
"I'm not leaving. I have two hours of vault practice left. Then I will go home."
Kova shook his head in incredulity. "What is it with you? When are you going to learn I have your best interest at heart and to trust me? I am genuinely worried about you. You clearly need rest."
"The last time I put all my trust in your hands, you hurled it away. I can't afford to let that happen again."
"I thought we were past that. You just cannot let it go, can you." Kova looked away, his jaw tightened. I loved when it flexed like that. Such a masculine thing to me.
"Nope, and I won't. So, now, if you'll excuse me, I see Madeline growing more and more impatient with me by the second. I need to get to vault. I'm sure she'd love to know what this little spectacle was about. She doesn't like it when I waste her time."
Kova stared at me with disdain written plain as day on his handsome face.
I lowered my voice. "I'm going to do what I need to in order to get what I want."
"I understand that, Adrianna, but you are going about it all wrong. This is going to backfire on you, trust me."
I shook my head and turned around.
"You are walking on thin ice with me," Kova said under his breath before I was two steps away.
Looking over my shoulder, I said, "What could you do that could possibly hurt me even more?" When he said nothing, I smirked and turned back around, walking away.
&nbs
p; * * *
"Your legs separated off the spring board, and in flight."
I landed with the sound of Kova's voice to my right. I glanced at him and grimaced. I wasn't sure why he was here when he wasn't my vault coach, but one thing I was sure about was that he had other girls to coach and mentally break down aside from me.
"I know. Madeline already told me," I said dryly, fixing my leotard. It had pulled up on one side, giving me a wedgie. Hated when that happened. I walked past him as if he was a stranger.
It had been an hour since he tried to send me home, and I was still fuming.
"So lock your ankles together instead of trying to glue your thighs," he suggested behind me as I readjusted my ponytail and tucked in the flyaways. "Sometimes stronger quads make it hard for the legs to stay closed."
I gave him a thumbs up and kept walking.
I stopped in front of Madeline who looked at Kova behind me in question. My stomach churned. I prayed to the heavens above that I kept my face neutral as she glanced back and forth between us. I didn't need to look over my shoulder to know that Kova was cool as a cucumber himself.
"So the good thing about your leg separation"—Madeline returned her attention to me—"is that I know you're squeezing your butt really hard to keep everything tight. That shows you're trying, but now let's get those legs glued together. Try your vault again and focus on trying to glue your ankles together, like Coach Kova suggested."
I nodded with a firm mouth and walked back to the end of the vault runway and stood behind the line. Taking a deep breath, I mentally prepared myself by visualizing the Amanar, a two and a half twisting Yurchenko, with closed ankles. The hardest vault for women to execute.
I breathed out a strenuous breath and whispered to myself, "I got this." I visualized what I needed to do.
Looking directly at the vault, I sprinted toward it, gaining speed with every pump of my legs. Just a few feet away, I hurdled into a round off, punched the springboard with both my feet and arched into a back-handspring. I made sure my block was strong with a pop of my shoulders off the vault to gain as much height as I could, an absolute must for this skill. Sometimes in flight, or really with any skill, it was difficult to tell if a gymnast made a mistake.
As I landed, exhaustion struck me with the weight of fifty bricks. A massive huff escaped my chest. My eyes rolled shut and everything turned dark for a split moment.
I glanced at Madeline for approval, completely ignoring Kova's searing gaze. I pretended like I didn't notice him.
"Better, but you had a slight leg bend. If we can just tighten it up and control it, I have a gut feeling you are going to turn heads with your vault, Adrianna. The height you get is unbelievable."
A massive smile spread across my face. Coach Madeline's words gave me hope, something Kova loved to crush.
As if my smile could get any bigger, my cheeks burned when she said, "I love the improvement I'm seeing with you. Really great work." Madeline's enthusiasm was contagious. My belly fluttered with excitement and hope, erasing the tiredness.
After another hour of working on vault, I was feeling the effects of Madeline's coaching. My shoulders ached from arching back and popping off the table, and my stomach was tighter than a fishing knot. I had done so many practice vaults I'd lost count, but strange enough, I wasn't ready to go home. I was more pumped than ever.
Madeline was strict and tough, but with a feminine touch. She knew how to push without breaking down a gymnast. Many coaches trained with an iron fist. I had no issue with that mentality. I got it, and I understood why they did it, it worked in my advantage. It took a strong mind to ignore the harsh comments and push past them. But some days it was a nice change to have someone like Madeline coach you.
Most of the time I welcomed the change with Madeline, but I preferred Kova's training any day. Not because of what occurred between us, it had absolutely nothing to do with that. Kova could crush me in seconds, but he pushed me harder than anyone else ever had. And I loved it more than words could ever express.
A hard practice produced confidence.
Confidence could move mountains.
Adrianna Rossi. An emotional sadist at its finest.
"Come. I have some drills I think will benefit you I want to work on before you leave." Madeline’s voice broke into my thoughts.
I followed her to the tumble tramp, climbed up, and stood feet together in the middle. There was a landing mat at the end with a massively tall rectangular blue mat made up of vinyl and nylon mesh fabric.
I loved this trampoline for the simple fact that I could practice tumbling passes until I was blue in the face without putting stress on my body. It reduced injury from multiple repetitions. At the elite level, that's all we did—repetitions.
"Let's do some handstand hops. I want you to be aware of your wrist extensions so when you push through, you don't put all the weight on your shoulders. You need to extend your wrist as much as possible when you pop up."
I nodded and moved into position. I'd never done this drill on a trampoline, only on floor, so I knew exactly what she meant. My palms touched the black spring mesh bound together by bungee cords on each side. I popped off my hands into another handstand without touching the floor, and came loose. My hips dropped to the right and my knees bent, pulling into my stomach. I caught myself and stood up.
Madeline looked up at me. "You weren't tight, but you got the power. Keep your chest in." She hollowed her chest to form a curve with her upper body and tapped it. "I don't want to see your ass, roll them hips under and open, girl. Hip flexors flat, so you're constantly working on keeping them flat and open. Closed hips show you're a frightened amateur, opened hips show you're in control and fearless."
My coach was one hundred percent correct. This time when I did the handstand hop, I did it correctly.
"Good. Now let's do a few passes of those up and down, say about"—she squinted her eyes like she was thinking about it—"thirty?"
Thirty was not a few passes, but I wasn't going to argue with her. If I could do them on the floor, then sixty rows total up and down thirty feet of narrow trampoline would be a piece of cake.
By the time I finished, my wrists were a bit tender. They cracked a few times mid-hop that produced a wince from me, but overall, I felt great.
Standing at the edge, Madeline reached up and handed me a blue square. I knew where she was going with this before she said anything. I did similar drills on bars with these foam squares.
"Put the block between your knees and squeeze. Back handsprings up and down the track. This will give you cleaner and tighter back handsprings. Use those inner thighs."
Not only would this drill really benefit four events, but it would also rectify legs separating when moving from low bar to high bar. Any time I saw legs split just even a hair open during a Shaposh, I would grimace. It annoyed me to no end and all I could see was sloppiness from there on out. That being said, it was a lot harder to keep them closed than together. I completely understood the issue.
"Now back tucks," Madeline ordered before I reached the end of the track. Once I'd gotten a little more than halfway down the mat, she yelled, "Look how when your legs are tightly squeezed together how your hips rotate faster. It's beautiful and clean. This is what I want all the time, Adrianna. Great job!" Just when I thought I was going to get a second to catch my breath and not jump, Madeline added, "Now full twists with the foam."
Shit. My stomach was a flaming ball of heat from squeezing my abs. At least this was a little easier in a way. All I had to do was complete four back handsprings and a full-twist, not pull up my knees and punch out tucks every time.
On my last pass, my arms buckled. Bent at the elbow, my back gave out and yet somehow I dug deep and still managed to keep the square between my legs. I gasped quietly, catching myself so it appeared I'd just finished the pass and nothing more. Landing, my heart pounded so loud I could hear it thumping in my ears, and my skin tingled with little pricks from t
he tightening of my muscles.
"Great, now move to the floor and grab a folded panel mat. Set it down at your feet." Madeline stood off to the side and called out instructions. My joints cried out from the inside but I kept my face neutral.
"Once again, handstand hops. This time up to the mat and remember to extend your wrists. Start with one knee bent so it's facing forward." I brought my toes toward the opposite knee. "Right. This is going to make it so you have to wind up and kick with the bent leg. Handstand snap down from the mat and rebound. Remember to keep your hips flat and press the hip flexors open. Go."
I wasn't sure how many I had to complete, I guessed I'd go until she said stop, or until I couldn't take anymore.
I wasn't sure which was worse.
Only a handful in and Madeline said, "We want a quicker rebound. Push it, Adrianna." She clapped her hands loud, rushing for me to speed up. "Chest in, hips under! You need to use your lower back and stomach so you don't pike down."
I grew more exhausted each time I punched the floor with my feet and snapped my hips down. My entire body was ready to cave in. And the truth was, I couldn't tell if it was because I was physically or mentally worn out.
"Head and arms stand parallel, I don't want to see your ears. Your head and shoulders are not to come out first. When you bend your body down, your arms and head go at the same pace and direction. Do not pop that head up like a turtle."
I grimaced. Coach Madeline was starting to sound like Kova.
I didn't give up though. Not once. I fought through the tiredness and pain. If I didn't sacrifice myself in those moments and push, then what I wanted would become the sacrifice. I was too close to the victory tape to give up now.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Any exhaustion and fatigue I was dealing with earlier was long gone now.
A hot shower, four Motrin, and a cup of dark coffee would do that to you. Throw in some lemon garlic chicken and a detox salad, and I was ready to ride.