by Lucia Franco
“She’ll be training with us?” Reagan scoffed.
“That is what I said,” he said sternly.
The ugly glower on Reagan’s pinched face fueled a fire inside of me. It was hard not to stare at her. Her features bunched together, giving her an overly dramatic expression. Just because I wasn’t in the elite program yet didn’t mean I couldn’t train with them. Gyms all over the world had mixed classes, and most gymnasts benefited by watching the technique of their teammates while on an apparatus.
I could see her definitely being a problem. Living amongst the wealthy had shown me how to view the true colors of people quickly, no one could pull off bitchy better than blue bloods, and I had been conditioned by some of the best.
“Coach, why isn’t she training with her level then?”
Coach? Coach!
“You’re the coach! My coach?”
“Adrianna!” my mother gasped, mortified over my outburst.
“Last time I checked. Who did you think I was?”
The girls on the team snickered. Warmth climbed my chest and hit my cheeks and ears over my outburst.
“You mean you didn’t know, Adrianna,” Mom said, adding fuel to the fire. How convenient of her to pay attention now.
Lifting one shoulder, I said candidly, “He’s dressed for a business meeting, not prepared to be covered full of chalk for the next eight hours. How’s he going to spot in those clothes and dress shoes? I assumed...” I trailed off, biting my bottom lip. My shoulders dropped. “I don’t know what I assumed, honestly. I just thought he owned the gym and didn’t coach. A lot of owners don’t coach.”
My cheeks blossomed with heat when I glanced at my new coach. The veiled smirk he donned matched the glimmer in his eyes. I’d never had a young coach before, much less someone as attractive as Kova. Intimidating was an understatement. How the hell was I supposed to concentrate when he was the coach for fuck’s sake?
“As for the rest of you, I decide who you all train with, and as of right now, she is with us.” Kova turned toward me and gave a pointed look. “Is this going to be a problem for you?”
“Not at all,” I lied.
Yeah...This was definitely going to be a big problem. Like when your gynecologist is hot kind of problem.
“Good, let us carry on and finish the tour so your parents can get you settled. I expect you here early Monday morning.”
I nodded and we walked over to the men’s team, where they were sharpening their skills to perfection. Just when I thought gymnastics couldn’t get any tougher, I observed the brute strength it took for a male gymnast to balance himself on the rings while keeping them steady with very little movement. It was quite impressive to watch their arms slowly extend out to the sides, perpendicular to their bodies while their legs were straight and together to perform an Iron Cross. The control along with the upper body muscle it took was utterly astounding and probably why females were unable to do it.
“Gentlemen, this is Adrianna Rossi. She is a level ten but will be joining the senior girls to train.”
There were three senior gymnasts Coach introduced, Alexander, Gavin, and Hayden. Solid bodies with flawlessly sculpted, vascular arms. Their shoulders were carved and contoured, the silky smooth skin curved around the tissue and hugged the muscle underneath beautifully. And the best part was it was all natural muscle from years of training, not the steroid-induced kind of shit.
There was something about a male gymnast’s body that just did it for me. They yielded so much power and control. It was beauty hiding in plain sight.
I waved. “Hi,” I said shyly, and they gave a few polite smiles.
Basketball shorts hung low with form fitted shirts that stuck to their bodies from exertion. One guy, I think his name was Hayden, was shirtless and had that boy next door charm written all over him. Washboard abs, dimples on both cheeks, and perfectly straight, white teeth. He had it all. This guy could cut steel on his abs, which were covered in powdery white chalk. And the V all girls went crazy for—sharp as a knife and pointed right down to his groin. I couldn’t help but admire it. But the best part of him, by far, were his arms. From his broad shoulders to his wrists, his honey colored skin glowed with vitality.
I knew my main focus was to train with the best, but they were going to make focusing more difficult. They were definitely not bred like this back home. At least not at my old gym that was for sure. That whole no boyfriend thing no longer sounded as easy as I’d originally thought.
“I usually have the men’s and women’s senior teams train at the same time in the early morning,” Coach said.
My coach. I still couldn’t get over the fact he was the coach. Or that my mouth got me into trouble once again. I never knew when to keep it shut.
“They will take a lunch break or go to school and then the younger ones come around mid-afternoon for practice. After that, the seniors come back and train for another couple of hours.”
Konstantin led us down the hallway and back to the lobby. His shoulders were massively wide, the dress shirt he wore stretched across his back. He was rolled tight, and it was apparent now he was once a gymnast. At first glance, he looked like any regular guy in casual business attire.
I kid. That was such a lie. He definitely didn’t look like any other guy—other guys weren’t built like him. No gymnast’s body could ever be considered regular.
Turning around, Konstantin’s chin slowly dipped, giving us a solid stare. “Now that we have cleared everything up, I will let you guys go. My gymnasts need me,” he said to my parents before turning to me. “Adrianna, it has been a pleasure. I look forward to our first workout where you will be evaluated to see what you are suitable for.”
My jaw dropped for the thousandth time since entering World Cup. I hoped this wasn’t a precursor for what was to come. My heart pounded, prickly heat coated my arms, and I was sure my blood pressure was steadily rising. This had to be a fucking joke.
“What do you mean evaluate me? I am suitable for elite. With my age alone, you have to train me for senior elite. I can’t be in any other level. I’m supposed to start the program so I can test this season. That’s why I’m here.” I had to be with elite by the rules set forth by USA Gymnastics. Not what he wanted.
He raised a brow, his green eyes scolding me once again. With the amount of staring he had done since I stepped through the door, I felt like I needed to decipher his thoughts through his eyes as if he was too lazy to open his mouth to speak his mind.
“I am well aware what the guidelines are. However, I am your coach now, so I will be making the decision to see which level I think you are fit for, which skills you will learn and master,” he stated. “You will train with the seniors and do your previous routines for now until I do my assessment, along with the other coaches. We will decide if, and when, you can practice for senior elite.”
“Ana,” my father said, demanding my attention. Dad read the expression on my face and knew I was ready to contest his comment.
Pursing my lips together, I grinded my teeth. I wasn’t sure what he thought he could do. It wasn’t as if he could just change the rules everyone who trained in the United States had to follow just to suit him. The sole reason I came to World Cup was to be in the elite program, and I’d make damn sure I did.
I hadn’t even officially started training and I was already frustrated with my new coach.
Like most nights, dinner was stiff and uncomfortable. Mother eyed my plate as she shifted her food, trying to appear as if she was eating, which she hardly did. She had an image to maintain, which meant I did as well. I had to be careful with consumption when she was around. I was cautious in general due to gymnastics, but she just made it much more stressful.
“So you have everything you need, Ana?” Dad stated more than asked the question. He washed his steak down with a glass of bourbon. They were getting ready to drive back home.
My parents had been doing better with letting a little rope go the past few
years with less and less restrictions. I had three rules I had to follow. Don’t get arrested, don’t do drugs, and be home by curfew. I was still a teenager, but living the Palm Beach lifestyle is like growing up in Hollywood—you matured much faster and fended for yourself. So those rules were not always easy to abide by for my brother. You were thirteen going on eighteen. Parents were hardly present and money was thrown around left and right for anything their kids wanted. Old money, new money. The upper crust with Gucci squad kids. To the outside youth, it was what every teenager dreamed of having—money, fame, and fortune. But it all came with a price.
“I do.”
“Use your Centurion Card for anything you need.”
Confused, I asked, “My what?”
“The black American Express Card. I gave it to you last week.”
Oh. I didn’t know it had a special name. “I will.”
“Come on, Frank, our driver is waiting.” Mom’s distant eyes looked around the unknown.
Leaning down, my father kissed the top of my head and said, “Keep me updated with everything. Okay?”
I nodded, squeezing him in a hug as tight as I could. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Of course, sweetheart.”
“Behave, Ana. Focus,” Mom added. I tightened my jaw. I wanted to snapback, I’ve always focused and behaved. But I didn’t. “I will, Mom.”
“You’ll let us know when your first meet is?”
Bewilderment with slivers of hope wedged through me. “You want to know?”
Joy jutted out her hip and propped her hand. “Of course I do.”
This was news to me. Mom hadn’t been to one of my meets in years, and not for lack of trying on my part, either.
“Ana, we’re paying a lot of money for this ridiculous hobby of yours. Don’t make us regret it.”
My shoulders dropped. I should’ve known. “I’ll let you know once I find out.”
Her patronizing tone over my “ridiculous hobby” was heartbreaking. For a split second, I thought she actually wanted to watch me do what I love. How foolish of me to think otherwise.
Then she did something surprising. “Please, be safe. I know you’re self-sufficient, but I—we—still worry.” She leaned down and kissed my cheek. I wasn’t sure how to react. I forced a smooth smile and took joy in it.
Mom pulled back, and I saw the love in her eyes she so rarely showed. I had yet to figure out why she rode me the way she did. I hated it, but I’d take what little bits of affection I could from her. She was still my mother after all, and I loved her.
WHEN SUNDAY ROLLED around, I tried to get settled as quickly as I could. I didn’t have a ton of things to unpack since my condo was fully furnished before we arrived, but I did want everything to be just right. Dealing with the chaos of unpacked boxes and shuffling through them to find things was not something I wanted to deal with. I was used to structure and needed it in all aspects of my life. Monday was the first day of my new workout schedule and I knew I wouldn’t have much time for anything once it started. I woke up early and began emptying boxes, finding places for framed pictures of Avery and me, my family, and of good times back home. I even hung some of my most prized medals.
My nerves steadily climbed as the day went on, anxious for tomorrow to come. I was eager to rub my hands through the chalk bowl, feel the springboard beneath my feet as I flipped backwards onto the vault. I couldn’t wait to learn more about my teammates, and bond with them.
Into the afternoon, I took a break and pulled out a meal from my mom’s favorite fresh food delivery company. My cell phone rang and I smiled at the name on the screen.
“Hey, girl!”
“Hey!” Avery responded. “How’s it going? I miss you already.”
“Ave—I haven’t even been gone a week.”
“I know,” she whined. “But you’re my bestie and you moved thousands of miles away!”
I chuckled at her exaggeration. “You act like I moved to China. It’s not thousands of miles away. I didn’t move across the world, I’m literally three hours away...max.”
“True, but who am I going to people watch and gossip with now on Worth Avenue? I need my girl.”
A smile spread across my face, reminiscing about fun times with Avery. Worth Avenue was equivalent to New York’s 5th Avenue, it had all the top designer stores and restaurants. Tall palm trees lined the streets, flower bushes with the most vibrant colors I’ve ever seen bloomed beneath the high sun climbing the buildings. Worth Avenue was a picturesque little spot.
Avery and I had been best friends since we were infants. Our parents were extremely close, her dad was a partner at Rossi Enterprises, so we were pretty much inseparable. Leaving her was more difficult than I expected. I knew it wouldn’t be anything for us to drive to see each other for a quick visit, our parents wouldn’t bat an eye, but that wasn’t the point. I left behind my one true best friend. She was the closest thing I had to a sister—my confidante and my lifeline.
“Stop being so dramatic. We can still do that on the phone. Plus, I’ll be home for holidays and stuff.”
“Whatever, so what are you doing now?”
“Taking out all the meals my lovely mother ordered for me,” I said sarcastically. After all these years, Avery knew how my mom loved to micromanage certain aspects of my life. “I don’t even know what half this stuff is.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. She’s still controlling you from three hours away?”
“Sure is. She had that delivery diet food service set up for me—the same one your mom uses. It’s all naturally prepared meals. Though, I’ve never taken the time to actually look at the food, have you?”
“Nope, never ate the crap either.”
“Ugh. Lucky.” I picked up one tray and inspected it. “This one looks like...” I trailed off, looking at the name, unable to make out what it was. “You have got to be kidding me. Tofu? She’s making me eat tofu? With gluten free croutons?” I scrambled around to look at the rest of the meals in the vibrant green mesh bag. “Oh my God, they’re all gluten free meals! Why the fuck is she ordering me gluten free? I’m not allergic to anything!” My stomach churned as I sorted through the rest of the contents. This stuff would taste horrible.
Chuckling, Avery said, “Gluten causes belly fat and she wants you fit and trim, dumbass.”
“Thanks, Captain Obvious. I know that, but I have no belly fat left to lose. She acts like I’m fucking overweight.”
“I can only imagine what she thinks of me.”
“I’m not eating this shit,” I said, dumping one of the trays into the garbage.
“Last time I checked, there’s a lot of salt and sugar in gluten free diets. Sugar turns to fat and salt is going to bloat you. What else is in there?”
“Let me see...There’s a whole week of terrible looking meals and snacks.” I grimaced at the appalling food choices. “Lamb meatballs? How do people eat this stuff? This looks like mystery meat patted together. I can’t believe she’s expecting me to eat this shit. It doesn’t look appetizing at all, it looks disgusting.”
“Take a picture and send it to me right now. I have to see this.”
I pulled another tray out. “What are corn grits?”
“Grits? Never heard of it. Maybe some type of specialty corn your mom thinks will make you lose weight after one bite?”
Shaking my head, I laughed. “That sounds like something she’d do.” I picked up another tray. “Well, this doesn’t look too bad. It’s turkey and green beans in a gluten free wrap.” I opened the plastic container and took a bite. “The wrap tastes like cardboard, but I’ll take it over the tofu,” I said with a full mouth. Before I knew it, the small snack size wrap was gone and I was still hungry.
Avery moved to another topic and began chatting about the sport she loved, talking a hundred miles a minute about her tryouts.
“You’ll make the cheer team for sure. I’d be shocked if you didn’t.”
“I hope so! I mean, I want t
o make the All-Star competition team. I should be able to after all the private lessons I’ve had.”
“I have no doubt you will. I’ve seen those girls, and you’re so much better. Oh shit, you’re never going to believe this. I met my coach.”
“Yeah?” she said, unimpressed. “And?”
I sipped my water and told her how I made a fool of myself. “He’s really young, a former Olympian, but I just can’t picture him training us. It’s weird.”
“How young?”
“I have no clue, I didn’t ask, but I would say around twenty-five? Thirty? I have no idea.” I puckered my lips, my forehead bunching together. “That seems kind of young for my dad to be friends with.”
“I didn’t know you had to be a certain age to be friends with someone.”
“You don’t, obviously. I just wasn’t expecting it.”
“Is he hot?”
My cheeks flushed. “Avery! He’s my coach!”
“And?”
“And what?”
“Is he hot?”
Hot was an understatement. His jet black hair complemented his stunning green eyes perfectly. A square jaw with hollow cheeks but profound cheek bones. I loved that he was tall and had broad shoulders. All my other coaches had been short and stumpy.
“Well...I mean, yeah, he’s hot, but I can’t think of him like that. I’m going to be working closely with him for like forty hours a week.”
“Send me a picture.”
I burst out laughing. “Avery! And how the hell am I supposed to do that? I can’t just bring my phone in there and be all ‘Hey, Coach, let me take a picture of you.’”
“Fine. I’ll Google him. He’s an Olympian so there’s bound to be a picture of him out there. Hang tight, what’s his name?”
I paused for a moment, my brows pinching together. “Well, he addressed himself as Konstantin, but search Konstantin Kournakova. I mean, Kournakov. Or Kova. My dad called him Kova. I think he changed his last name, though.”