Coach Kim and Tasya kept the gymnasts entertained in the van on the ride to Vail. Tasya told amusing and heartwarming tales of national competitions in Russia, and around the world.
“Our tour took us all the way to New York City,” Tasya said. “Coach and I fell in love with the Big Apple. And by that time, we were quite disappointed with the Russian government for many reasons.”
Jenna and her friends listened intently, eager for more of the story.
“The morning we were scheduled to fly back to Russia, Coach Kim and I spoke to the American officials.” She grinned, looking fondly at Coach. “Tell them the rest, dear.”
Coach glanced in the rearview mirror. “Can anyone guess what happened?” he bellowed.
Jenna raised her hand. “You stayed in America!”
“Tasya defected from Russia,” said Cassie.
The whole van was cheering. “Hooray for Tasya!”
It was a thrilling moment, especially for Jenna. She felt she understood the triumph of being granted asylum because her ancestry was closely tied to another country. She, too, was proud to call herself an American citizen. It was thrilling to hear the national anthem played or sung at gymnastic events.
“On that day, we started all over with nothing,” Tasya said softly when the hoopla died down. “Such hard work it was, making a new home in America. But it was worth every struggle.”
Just like gymnastics, thought Jenna.
She was thinking of the effort that went into perfecting every single gesture, every movement, every breath. Flashy, impressive moves fell flat if the smallest motions were sloppy or incomplete. Bad habits had to be relearned and replaced with good ones. The overall performance was a make-or-break situation, depending on all of the above.
* * *
Within minutes of their arrival in Vail, they were registered. Then the intense training began. Physical skills were one thing, the other hurdle was the test for mental toughness. To be a successful gymnast, focusing one hundred percent was most important. Jenna knew that if one tiny detail was overlooked in any of her routines, the whole program was zip.
She was determined to master her skills—to benefit from the three-day sports camp. No matter what.
The first three hours, she did “timers,” a trick cut down—abbreviated. She raced along the vault runway and flew into a roundoff handspring. Nels was nearby, but she never once looked at him.
To get the feel of the springboard under her bare feet, she stopped abruptly, not doing the flying skill over the vault. By repeating this many times, she “made friends” with the springboard. This was the goal of the exercise.
“Doing fine?” Lara asked her during the first break.
“Yeah, how about you?”
Lara frowned, patting her own head. “Getting used to extra inches is real tough.”
“It’ll take time, but you’re sticking with it. That’s what counts.” Jenna sipped some fresh carrot juice.
Lara stared at the juice in Jenna’s hand. “How can you stand that stuff?”
Jenna smiled. “Well, if it didn’t give me so much energy, I’d probably never drink it.”
“You’re saying it’s an acquired taste?”
Jenna nodded, finishing off the container. “But it’s easy on the stomach.”
Lara laughed. “You sound like my grandpa. He’s always talking about food that ‘goes down easy.’ ”
They giggled at that.
“I’m not that old, thank goodness,” Jenna said.
“Mom says to enjoy the strength and stamina we have now, as young gymnasts.”
“Because it won’t last forever?” Jen added.
Lara was nodding her head. “Sounds like your mom and mine are in cahoots.”
“Actually,” Jenna said, “when we’re too old to perform, we can instruct other gymnasts.”
“Teaching is the last thing I want to do.”
Jenna tossed away her carrot juice container. “For now, all I can think of is Olympic gold. I eat it, drink it, and breathe it.”
Lara agreed. “I’m with you. Getting on a national team would be so awesome, wouldn’t it?” Suddenly she looked sad. “That is, if I can ever get control of my legs again.”
Jenna put her arm around her friend. “Keep your chin up. It’ll happen. You’ll see.”
“I’d trade places with you any day,” Lara whispered, eyes glistening.
Jenna could hardly believe her ears. They linked arms and hurried back across the gym toward the vaulting horse.
Lara said, “Be thankful you’re still so small.”
So small . . .
Jenna didn’t want to hear that about her size. She wanted to grow taller than this minibody of hers. She wanted to become a normal-sized young woman.
When would it happen?
Better Than Best
Chapter Six
Jenna stared at the vaulting horse—vault for short. It stood four feet high, five feet long, and eleven inches wide. The runway, leading to the vault, was three feet wide and eighty-two feet long. She knew she’d have to be very fast, with a strong burst of energy to build up enough speed.
“You can do it!” Cassie, Lara, and the other girls called from the sidelines.
“Go, Captain Jen,” a male voice called.
She saw Nels in the crowd of gymnasts. Some were from the Vail area. Others had driven from as far away as Denver and Grand Junction. Seventy-five young gymnasts, in various levels.
Coach Kim cheered her on, clapping his hands, as he stood on the sidelines. “You’ve got what it takes. Think ‘the best.’ Okay! Push for perfection!”
She faced the horse, focusing deliberately. She thought through her explosive hurdle off the springboard. Her legs must fly high over her head, toes pointed. The next move was a half twist before pushing off the horse with her hands. Her body must create a tall, perfect arc, with an assortment of bends and somersaults.
Last of all, her feet would smack the mat with a deft “stick” landing. Hops and steps backward never cut it with the judges at the competition stage. At all costs, she must avoid any hint of sloppiness in practice.
Be the best, she told herself. Better than best.
It was time the All-Around Team saw who was tops. She would show her stuff. She would stretch past her best, to perfection. She was so psyched up, she almost could fly!
* * *
“You were so amazing,” Cassie said as she and Lara gathered around Jenna after the vault.
“Thanks, but believe it or not, I’m not that crazy about the vault,” Jenna admitted.
“Could’ve fooled me,” Lara said.
“Me too,” said Nels, walking up to them.
Instantly Cassie and Lara clammed up. But Jenna wasn’t going to let Nels’ presence spoil her moment of victory. “What’s your best event?” she asked him.
“Me?” He turned comically, looking behind him.
“Yes, you.”
“Uneven bars. What’s yours?” His eyes twinkled with interest.
By revealing her best, she would be confessing her weaker skills. She glanced nervously at Cassie and Lara.
Cassie frowned. “What?” she mouthed silently.
My girl friends know the truth, she thought. Both Cassie and Lara—Coach too—knew her preferred events.
“C’mon, Captain. Cough it up.” Nels’ smile made her soften. Maybe telling him wasn’t such a big deal, after all.
But no, something kept her back. Both the floor exercise and the balance beam were her all-time best. Her greatest passions in gymnastics. But she wanted to keep this to herself for now. She shrugged him off. “I . . . uh, later,” she managed to say.
Nels looked puzzled but didn’t push the question. “Whatever,” he said, following the girls into the cafeteria.
They kept pace, the three of them, side by side.
“Guess who’s tagging along?” Cassie whispered.
“And guess who likes you?” Lara teased.
> Jenna smirked. “Guess who’s toast?”
Cassie and Lara gave her confused looks, but they said no more.
Jenna had already guessed that Nels had singled her out. That he liked her. But cute or not, he was obnoxiously competitive. Not that an ambitious spirit wasn’t totally essential for an athlete. But Nels Ansgar was a pain about it. He acted like a medalhead or something.
Jenna decided to try to throw him off, just a bit. So she waited till Cassie and Lara were out of earshot. “You asked about my favorite event?” she taunted him.
He’d already sat down at a long table. “Sure, what is it?”
“Can you guess?”
“The beam?”
She grimaced. “It’s okay, I guess.”
“Floor exercise?”
She shook her head, but her heart pounded. “Floor exercise stinks.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope.”
His eyes squinted. She had him. He could not figure her out. “I saw you training yesterday at the gym. Your floor routine was outstanding.” He didn’t crack a smile. His eyes held hers. He was testing her, she was fairly certain.
“I just give it all I’ve got, no matter the skill.”
It was his turn to shrug her off. “Every good gymnast is supposed to do that.”
“So what do you like best?” she asked.
Cassie and Lara were waving her over. Looked like they’d found a table near the juice stand.
“Well, gotta go. See ya around,” she said.
“Hey, I thought—”
“Later,” she interrupted.
“So long, Captain Song.” There was a knowing ring in his voice. It was as if he were taunting her.
She didn’t like it one bit. She resented his scoffing her name. He’d made fun of her title, too. She wished he’d stayed in his own country, far away from Colorado.
Why had Coach Kim and Tasya bothered to bring him all the way to America just for a few days of sports camp? It made no sense.
Marching toward Cassie and Lara, she was secretly glad she had tricked Nels. For all she cared, he could mistakenly think she disliked the floor exercise.
Lie or not, it served him right!
Better Than Best
Chapter Seven
All four Girls Only club members relaxed in the third-floor dorm above the sports center overlooking the Vail mountains. Posters of various celebrity-status sports heroes decorated the walls across the long, narrow room. There were showers and bathrooms at the opposite end of each wing, complete with hair dryers. A first!
“We survived our first day of camp,” Jenna said, lying back on her bunk.
“It was hard work but lots of fun,” said Livvy. She towel-dried her auburn hair as she sat on Jenna’s bunk. “I’m glad ballet sessions are happening all weekend.”
Jenna nodded, filing her fingernails. “If the ballet segment wasn’t being offered, the Girls Only club wouldn’t be meeting here tonight.”
“Supercool,” replied Livvy. “I’m glad we have one sport in common.”
“Me too,” Manda spoke up. She was curled up on her bunk, leaning back on two pillows. “Otherwise, I know you three wouldn’t be hanging out with me on the ski slopes, right?”
“Hey, you can’t say that,” Heather insisted. Her blond hair billowed down over her shoulders. “Some of us are big risk takers. Right, Livvy?”
Livvy laughed. “Well, I’d rather not gamble with my life on ski runs like that. You’re the fearless one of us, Manda.”
Heather’s face drooped a bit. “Really? Well, let me tell you about fearless.” She began to describe in detail several new stunts she and her ice-dancing brother and partner were learning. “One wrong move, or one half inch off, and my head’s crashing into the ice! Now, if that’s not daring, I don’t know what is.”
Jenna spoke up. “You’re right. Both you and Manda are the thrill seekers.”
Livvy said no more. Obviously, she wasn’t going to fight for a slot on the most-daring list. Not tonight.
Jenna knew what truly motivated Livvy. It was all about excelling in her sport and had nothing to do with thrills and chills. Liv had already gone through a frightening experience. Nearly one year ago, her mother had lost her battle with cancer. Jenna was positively sure her best friend was more cautious than the other club members because of her deep loss.
* * *
The official start of the Girls Only meeting began with prayer. Jenna usually prayed, but instead, she asked Livvy Hudson, the vice-president.
“Dear heavenly Father,” Livvy began, “thanks for giving us the chance to come here. Help us stay focused on the things we need to learn and perfect. For your honor and glory, we pray these things. Amen.”
After the prayer, Manda stared at Jenna. “What’s wrong—why didn’t you pray?” she asked, sitting cross-legged at the foot of her mattress.
“Nothing’s wrong,” Jenna replied quickly.
“Right,” mocked Heather Bock. “You can’t fool us.”
Manda twisted her dark locks. “My guess? Something happened today. Something got you off on the wrong foot.”
“Hopefully not one of the coaches,” Heather said smugly.
All three girls were staring a hole in her. Jenna knew she’d have to level with them sooner or later. “Time for the reading of the minutes,” she said, ignoring them. “Will the secretary please bring us up-to-date on last month’s meeting?”
Heather’s eyes widened. “I didn’t bring along the minutes notebook,” she confessed. “I didn’t know we were having a formal club meeting.”
Jenna looked at Livvy and shrugged. Manda and Heather exchanged glances and frowned.
“Maybe you could recite the minutes from memory,” Jenna suggested.
Manda grinned. “Yeah, and we’ll help fill in any holes if you forget something.”
“Me, forget?” Heather joked.
“Well, there’s no forgetting the Passion Play we performed last month,” Livvy pointed out. “Remember that?”
Only three of the girls had been involved in the creative presentation called Resurrection. Manda had gone to Kansas for Easter, so she couldn’t be in the play.
“Remember those quick changes we had to make, because each of us played two different parts?” said Heather.
“I thought it was supercool,” Livvy said softly. “We should make it an annual event.”
“Right, and next year Manda gets a lead part, okay?” Jenna said, tossing a pillow at their Hispanic friend.
“Oh, I can’t wait,” Manda said sarcastically. “But what I want to know right now is, what’s bugging you, Jen?”
Scratching her head, Jenna pretended not to hear.
“C’mon, don’t do that,” Heather protested.
“Do what?” Jenna said, frowning.
“You know” was all Heather said.
Unexpectedly, Cassie and Lara flounced into the room. They were sharing the space in two more bunks. “Are we interrupting anything?” Lara asked.
“Not really,” Jenna was quick to say.
“Oh, it’s your club thing, right?” Lara said, standing taller than ever.
“Actually, I think we’re finished,” said Jenna. “Aren’t we, girls?”
Manda was shaking her head. “Not till you answer my question, President Jenna. What’s bugging you?”
Jenna felt the heat rise into her cheeks. “I say the meeting’s adjourned.”
“Okay, have it your way.” Manda got up and draped her arm around Heather. She whispered something, and both girls glanced Jenna’s way.
“Hey . . . no secrets,” Livvy said, obviously sticking up for Jenna.
But Jenna didn’t care if Manda and Heather talked behind her back. Besides, she had every right to keep her opinions to herself. No way was she going to say why she was ticked off. Mainly because she was so upset with herself.
Better Than Best
Chapter Eight
Jenna
tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable in bed. The narrow bunk, probably a twin-size, seemed smaller than that. At least it wasn’t lumpy like the mattresses at other sports camps she’d attended. Something to be thankful for!
When she finally did fall asleep, she dreamed she was riding bikes with Lara Swenson. The wind was in their hair as they flew over the bluffs on the outskirts of Alpine Lake.
Midway down the hill, she realized her feet didn’t reach the pedals. Surprised, she saw that the bike was a minibike with training wheels!
This is crazy. I know I’m bigger than this! She panicked.
She awakened with a start and sat straight up in the bunk. The dorm was dark and still. The other girls were sound asleep. Lara Swenson was snoring. Livvy, in the next bunk, was half in, half out of bed, with one leg flung over the side.
Slowly, Jenna leaned back onto the mattress, wondering about the weird dream. Was she so worried about her size that her subconscious had kicked in with the ridiculous dream?
She decided she would try to brush it off. She would wake up in the morning and probably forget the bike dream ever happened.
* * *
Forgetting the dream is exactly what Jenna tried to do, except that during breakfast, she could think of nothing else. The dream about riding a beginner’s bike plagued her thoughts.
Is that really how I feel about my body? she wondered. Am I too small for who I want to be?
“Hey, wake up, daydreamer.”
Jen looked up to see Livvy sitting across the table from her. She had a fruit plate of fresh strawberries, bananas, apple slices, and a bran muffin. “You look wiped out, and the day’s just starting,” said Livvy. “You okay?”
“Sure,” Jenna replied. “Did you sleep all right?”
“Sure,” Liv said flatly.
The girls’ gazes met and held.
“So . . . how’s it feel?” Livvy said.
“What’re you talking about?”
“Saying ‘sure’ when you don’t mean it.”
Girls Only! Page 9