by Lucia Franco
I glanced around my cold, small room with two twin beds, and stopped when my eyes landed on the ice pail. I got up and walked over to the black bucket. I checked to make sure I had my room key before grabbing the bucket to go fill. I was supposed to meet Kova in just over an hour. I wanted to, I missed him terribly, but my gut told me to stay in the room and open the book. It was a feeling that resonated within my soul and I couldn't ignore.
I wasn't going to give up Kova, that was virtually impossible. What I needed for myself right now was to rest my body and ice my aching arm.
Maybe cry a few more tears too.
What I really needed to do was heal my heart and learn to love myself again.
Twenty
It was a quiet, somber morning.
Madeline didn't say much, but neither did Kova. My guess was that we all were going through the motions and preparing for the long day ahead of us.
I'd worked my ass off to finish in the top five yesterday, but that didn't mean anything today. Today was a new day with new scores and new routines.
Once the meet was officially over, both days’ scores would be taken into consideration along with previously required meets standings. Then the Olympic committee would convene in a private, soundproof room, while all fifteen gymnasts were placed in a separate room, watching the clock turn as we overanalyzed our routines, wondering where we could've been better. Everything we all worked so hard for came down to that moment. Only four would be chosen plus two alternates.
It was such a mind game.
Later this evening, the final women’s team would be selected and prompted to stand in the center of the floor of the arena. Chills raced down my arms just thinking about it. For that reason alone, I was a ball of nerves today.
I hadn't told Kova I wasn't going to meet him last night. I just didn't show. I couldn’t contact him, and he had no way of contacting me either. I felt bad. He’d probably waited for me. I imagined him looking for me every time the door opened, getting his hopes up. Eventually he’d realized I wasn’t going to show. He hadn't said anything about it, and it made me wonder if that was why he was all broody and quiet this morning.
The book Sophia gave me was an oddly interesting page-turner. I wasn't sure I'd like it at first. A self-help book definitely wasn't my style. But I gave it a shot and found myself having to force it closed to get proper rest for today. The author offered a thought-provoking approach to finding yourself that strangely resonated inside of me. I had to ask myself a lot of open-ended questions that kept going and going. I was oddly excited to read more once we were on the plane ride back home, tempted to try out the different methods to finding inner peace. I had a lot of turmoil left inside me.
"Does being here bring back memories?" I asked Kova, breaking the silence.
A distant smile touched his lips as he wrapped up my wrists for bars. "Yes, it does, actually. Some happy, some bittersweet."
It took me a moment to realize what he was talking about. Kova had been to two Olympics but had to withdraw from the third one because of his mom’s declining health. If I remembered correctly, she'd passed away shortly after the Games that he’d missed.
"Is that why you're moody today?"
"I am not moody. I do not get moody."
A laugh gushed from me before I could stop it. He moved onto my other wrist. His movements felt mechanical. "You're the moodiest man I have ever met."
The corners of his mouth curled but he still felt a distance away. Why did he have to smile like that? So sexy and so relaxed and so at ease. Damn him.
"How many men do you know?" he asked, humoring me.
"A lot." I teased. He quirked up a brow. "I know many men."
It took effort not to laugh or smile. I knew no men.
"That so, Malysh?"
Blush decorated my cheeks. My heart fluttered with warmth at the sound of the nickname that caused a torrent of feelings inside me. Kova lifted his eyes to mine as he tore a piece of white tape with his teeth. The look in his gaze flooded my thoughts with memories of us together. Doing things I shouldn't be thinking about. It took me back to the day in my condo when the hurricane had hit and I'd carved the first letter of my name into his chest.
Using my other hand, I boldly tapped the left side of his chest twice with my index finger, right over the letter. His hand automatically reached up for mine. My heart sped up and I held my breath. Our eyes locked. Kova held onto my thumb while my fingers softly curled around his knuckles. I didn't have to say anything, and neither did he.
"Malysh…"
"I know."
I was his, and I always would be. The same went for him.
But we couldn't act like this in public.
His callused finger stroked the space between my thumb and forefinger. Something so simple pulled on my heartstrings. It was just us until a bell sounded in the background and broke the moment. I prayed no one took notice of us.
"Are you mad about last night?" I asked ever so quietly. He dropped my hand.
"Not at all. But now is not the time for that. Now is the time to show them why you are a valuable player for the team."
My eyes fluttered shut. I knew Kova supported me, but it still felt good to hear it at the eleventh hour.
"The United States is the number one team in the world right now. You know why that is?"
"Because we're the bomb dot com?" I joked. He wrapped one last piece of tape around my wrist.
"You are one of four reasons why that is. Do not forget that. Vault and bars are a given. You are the best out of them all and why you are the reigning champion. You know it too; you just do not like to admit it. Remind them why they need you on the team. Win the crowd over with your beautiful smile and love of the sport."
My lips pursed together. Luckily, I was wearing a leotard and it covered the blush creeping up my chest to my neck. Kova had said really sweet things to me before, but this time his words made me feel a little bashful. He spoke like he was confident of my abilities, and that ignited my adrenaline.
"You ready?" he asked once my grips were on. I nodded and bounced on my toes to get moving. "We are almost to the finish line."
I exhaled and flexed my fingers. All the days that had been filled with tears and aches and hopelessness, the same thing over and over, my diligent coaches who pushed me to the brink of insanity, it was all coming to an end. This was it, and the feeling was something I couldn't describe. Now it felt like it got here so fast.
"It's kind of crazy, isn’t it? We've waited for this moment for what feels like forever, and it's finally here."
"It is yours if you want it."
"Are you?"
My lips rolled between my teeth, embarrassment flooding me. I briefly squeezed my eyes shut wishing the ground would swallow me whole. I hadn't meant to say that. Not now at least.
His eyes bore into mine. "I think you already know the answer to that."
The bell sounded again, which meant one more gymnast before I took my turn. Steadying my breathing, I said, "I'm going to chalk up. You're going to be there, right?"
He nodded.
Relieved, I smiled, then made my way to the big chalk bowl and submerged my hands. One event down, three more to go.
I closed my eyes as my fingers shifted through the dry, white powder. I regained control of my inner self as my hands moved over the little chunks of chalk left unbroken. My entire body was swollen from head to toe despite taking all my medications like usual. I wasn't going to let that get in my way. I knew once today was over I could crash hard. It'd be worth it.
That's what I kept telling myself, anyway.
"Ladies, please form a single file line and follow closely."
All fourteen of us got in line wearing our matching USA sweat suits to make our way to the back.
Fourteen now, not fifteen. One of the gymnasts landed wrong on her vault dismount and snapped her knee in half. I wasn't squeamish, but seeing a person's knee inverted and protruding from their leg
made my already nauseous stomach churn higher. I felt so bad for her as she was carried off the floor in a stretcher. She covered her face with her hands, hiding her tears and missed opportunity. She was so young, just barely of age to make the Olympic team from what I'd heard. Hopefully, she wouldn’t lose faith and would come back fighting ten times harder. She was incredibly good, and constantly trailing my scores.
Day two was in the books, and now we were headed to the waiting room while the Olympic committee met in another room to discuss the team. A man holding a video camera followed closely, making sure to zoom in as we walked by, but he wasn't allowed in the room with us.
I wasn't sure which was worse, the anxiety or the adrenaline pulsing through me knowing that within the hour, six of us would be called to the floor to represent the United States. The anticipation was making me crazy. I didn't want to get my hopes up, but damn it, I really hoped my name was called.
While the meet went exceptionally well, that didn't necessarily mean anything at the end of all this. Gymnastics was so political behind closed doors. I knew from the beginning I needed to prove myself time and time again at the meets. And I had. At least I hoped I had. I prayed it showed that I worked well under stress, because they were looking for that too. Mistakes could be made, but the committee had to believe in you, had to see you come back with upgraded routines that were more difficult than before. They wanted to see that you were one of the few and strong who could handle the pressure of wearing the red, white, and blue.
Given my secrets, I felt like I was equipped to handle it.
There was nothing I could do now except wait. I'd finished in first place for both vault and bars, fourth on balance beam, and second on floor. My fate was in their hands.
Quietly, we made our way down a chilly, narrow hallway and through a set of double doors. The material of our uniforms swish-swashed as we reached a room with a sign taped to the door that read coaches and athletes only. Ushered inside, we took a seat on the floor and crisscrossed our legs while all of our coaches talked softly amongst themselves. Leaning back on my hands, I glanced over my shoulder and eyed Kova. He seemed to know I was looking for him and glanced at me from the corner of his eye. We exchanged a brief look. He was leaning one shoulder against the wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest as he spoke to another male coach that looked roughly his age.
I looked back at the girls. My nerves were so bad I felt like I was going to vomit any second. I was sure we all felt that way judging by the look of panic written on everyone's faces.
"Is everyone replaying their routines in their head wondering where they could've been better?" one of the pixie girls asked.
We nodded in unison, giggling here and there. The small talk did nothing to hide our jitters.
"Does anyone else feel like they're going to throw up any second?" I asked. Most nodded their heads, and giggled again. Using the back of my hand, I dramatically swiped it across my forehead pretending I was glad it wasn't just me who was a damn wreck.
Time passed painfully slow. Just as we were starting to soothe our nerves, the door opened and five people strode in, three of whom were the Olympic coaches. They carried six large bouquets of roses and sunflowers. It was what the team held in the air once names were announced.
My stomach dropped. I felt like I was going to have a heart attack. My pulse was in my ears and I started sweating. A nervous energy filled the room. There was no denying each of us—including the coaches—felt it. I wanted to unzip my jacket and shake my arms out. I glanced around looking for a bucket because I was sure I was going to vomit any second.
We all came to win, but tonight was the end of the road for eight girls in this room. They'd go home in tears, debating whether this backbreaking lifestyle was worth enduring another four years to achieve Olympic glory.
I knew where my road led if I wasn't chosen.
The door shut with a click, and Romanian Coach Elena, who I last saw at the training camps, held a piece of paper in her hand that sealed our fates. Voices decreased and each of us waited with baited breaths to see who'd been chosen.
Twenty-One
"Ladies and gentlemen…"
Chills kept pebbling my arms. I closed my eyes and listened as the president of the gymnastics committee spoke to the crowd. The team had been selected and announced in the private waiting room, and now the four were just waiting to be individually called to the floor.
The air in the room was packed with tension, anguish, and exhilaration. Tears fell for those whose road came to an end tonight, and for those whose dreams were only beginning. The anticipation was wreaking havoc on all of us. For me, it was a bittersweet ending.
"How does my mascara look?" I heard one of the girls ask another as she hiccupped.
After the team was announced, my stomach had been a disaster of emotions and still was. Now I knew why coaches were brought into the waiting room too—they had to console us after. My knees had buckled, and my heart had crashed to the ground in shock. Kova had been right there when my vision became spotty and I almost fell over. He grabbed me immediately and took me into his arms.
He’d comforted me as I cried on his shoulder, then held my face between his palms and kissed my forehead. It had been both heaven and hell for me.
Heaven, because this was it and what I'd worked so damn hard for.
Hell, because I knew what came after.
I took a deep breath and sniffled, and watched the rowdy crowd with blurry eyes through the tiny window. Coaches were sent to the floor while the rest of the gymnasts stood behind the double doors, waiting. I could see Kova standing next to the other head coaches with his arms crossed in front of his chest as he wavered back and forth on his heels. They were standing near the floor. His black dress pants were custom tailored and fitted to form around his butt and thighs, and the polo World Cup shirt made his biceps stand out. He wore a massive smile, one I rarely saw unless I was alone with him. I loved seeing him like that, though it had been a while since I had. A few feet down were the members of the men's team in matching sweats that'd been selected and announced before us. We'd only been standing there for three minutes max, but it felt like three hours.
"The United States is the number one team in the world…"
My pulse hammered in my chest. I took a deep breath and exhaled. I looked ahead through the narrow windows of the doors and tried to locate Dad and Sophia in the seats. I thought they were somewhere on this side of the building, but I couldn't find them. I probably looked right at them and didn't even notice. Dad was probably on the verge of a stroke waiting for what felt like forever. Even the parents were left in the dark as to who made the team. Any minute, names were going to be called again. And any minute, the tears would start up again.
"I'm sweating right now!" I heard one girl say. I chuckled, so was I.
"It is with great pleasure, I announce the four women who will make up the United States women’s gymnastics team…"
The crowd went wild. They were so loud I could barely hear the first name announced.
The double doors were pulled opened by two people with earphones and microphones. Cue the tears. They waved with frantic hands instructing us to hurry up. The coaches turned around and my eyes immediately locked with Kova's.
I didn't hold back the smile on my face. Neither did Kova. The pride in his eyes made everything we'd gone through together worth it. He was so happy.
I pulled my lip into my mouth and bit down. It was hard to believe we were finally here. My chin trembled and I sniffled again. After all the tears and rips, the aches and pains, aggressive coaching and daunting practices, we were finally at the moment we'd worked so hard for. There'd been so many days where I didn't think I could handle another second, yet, somehow, I didn't give up. Sometimes I was surprised myself that I didn't give. I'd made mistakes along the way. A lot of mistakes. There were a few meets where I'd let the nerves get the best of me, but I'd gone into the next meet challenging mysel
f ten times harder to be better, proving to myself and my coaches and those watching that I had what it took.
And it had paid off.
"Go, go!!" one of the employees said.
I drew in a shaky breath as tears filled my eyes again when the second girl was called to the floor. I watched as her arm went into the air and she waved to the crowd, then covered her mouth as she cried and sprinted onto the floor. We were advised to wait before the next name was called.
My teeth chewed into my lip.
"Reigning world champion on vault and bars…" I sucked in a breath and thought my heart was going to burst from my chest "…The third member to join the women’s Olympic gymnastics team, Adrianna Rossi from World Cup Academy of Gymnastics!"
There was no stopping the full-blown tears when my name was called next. They hit like a punch to the gut. Suddenly all eyes were on me. A bouquet was pressed to my arms as I stepped back into the arena. I crushed it to my chest, the clear plastic wrap holding the flowers couldn't even be heard over the roar of the crowd. My eyes frantically searched the packed room.
Elena, along with the other two Olympic coaches, believed in me enough for me to represent the United States.
I can't believe I really did it.
All I saw were smiling faces and clapping hands and my country's flag being waved in the air. Emotion flooded every ounce of me. Happy tears poured from my eyes. I was too overwhelmed to really see anything except Kova and the steps I was about to walk up.