Balance (Off Balance Book 1)

by Lucia Franco

  However, Alfred gave me a cupcake with a candle last night when he handed over the keys to the Escalade, my very own Tonka truck. I thanked him and actually called him Thomas.

  Aside from being famished and probably capable of eating a cow right then, I just didn’t have the strength after the long and draining day I had.

  Stepping out of the private tutoring room housed in the back of the library, the lights were soft and the vacancy in the air left me feeling a little cold. My grades were good and I stayed on track, so I really didn’t need to come, even though I skipped class that morning to take my driver’s test. Where my mom peeved about my appearance, my dad focused on school and how important grades were. I knew he was right, because at the end of the day, I wasn’t naive to think money could buy everything like it had in order for me to come to World Cup. One day this would all be over and I’d be living in the real world with real responsibilities.

  We were a few weeks into August and the weather changed in Florida. Although still stifling hot during the day, the humidity was thicker and stickier by nightfall. I began fidgeting with my zipper so I could remove my jacket before I walked outside, but it was stuck on the material. I placed my books on a nearby table to fix it.

  I was oblivious to the world when a whisper of breath brushed across my skin. “Do you need help with that?”

  My hand flew to my neck and I spun around at the voice in surprise.

  Hayden.

  “Shit! You scared the crap out of me!”

  Hayden grinned, his dimples showing. My eyes shifted to his shoulders, and even through the light gray hoodie, I could see his well defined muscles.

  “Sorry, I just saw you were stuck and thought I’d help.”

  Simmer down, hormones.

  “Aid, do you need help with that?” he asked, nodding toward my hands.

  Shaking my head, I snapped out of it. “Ummm, yeah, thanks.”

  Hayden fiddled with my zipper and asked, “Are you okay?”

  “I’m sorry...I’m just exhausted.” He grinned and my stomach rumbled.

  “And apparently hungry, too.”

  Heat crept up my neck and into my cheeks, embarrassed over how loudly my stomach grumbled.

  “Yeah, that too, but I’m too tired to eat, and the last thing I want is one of the prepared meals I have waiting for me at home.”

  Hayden’s brows angled toward each other, so I answered his perplexed look.

  “My mom has fresh meals prepared and delivered to me weekly. The thought of putting that in my mouth right now doesn’t sound as appealing as face planting into bed. Most of the time I can deal with them, but if I never had to look at another piece of fish or bark again, it would be too soon. So I’d rather not eat.”

  “Bark? Like from a tree?”

  I chuckled, thinking how funny that sounded. “Not really bark, just food that has nothing in it, no spices, and tastes horrible. Not to mention, they’re small servings.”

  He nodded, accepting my answer. “Why don’t you just go food shopping?”

  I shrugged. “Truthfully, my mom would have a conniption if I bought something she didn’t approve of. Plus, I just don’t have the energy.”

  “So you’re just not going to eat?” He fumbled with my zipper and finally got it down my body.

  “I have some fruit I can pick at.”

  “Adrianna, you have to eat,” he said, grabbing hold of my hips. Since that kiss in my condo, Hayden hadn’t been this forward with his touch. So naturally I noticed his hands on my body.

  “Let’s go. We’re going to grab something to eat together.”

  “Where would we go?”

  “There’s a Gino’s Pizza up the street. How about there?”

  “My mother would kill me if I had pizza.”

  Squeezing me closer, Hayden looked around aimlessly. I followed his gaze, curious to see who he was looking for, but I didn’t see anyone.

  “Adrianna, do you see her anywhere? She won’t find out about it and I promise not to tell her.” The corner of his mouth perked up.

  Hesitating, I bit my lip. I haven’t had pizza in so long.

  “Come on,” he coaxed, and grabbed my books, then laced his fingers through mine. “My treat.”

  I must’ve stayed in the library longer than planned. A murky fog sat low in the parking lot as we walked hand-in-hand. I didn’t typically hold hands with someone I wasn’t dating, but Hayden was different. Much to my surprise, he’d become a really good friend. I expected to be close to my team girls more than anything, and I wasn’t.

  “Which car is yours?”

  I pointed to the black SUV with the almost illegal tint and twenty-two inch rims. It was the SUV Alfred had driven when we first came to Cape Coral earlier this year.

  “That’s your ride?” His brows angled, skepticism in his tone.

  God, I just wanted to crawl into a hole and hide. To say Hayden was flabbergasted over my top of the line Escalade was an understatement. It was the Platinum edition and aside from being slightly embarrassed, I really did love it. No one’s first car was this nice unless the family had money. But back home, this kind of thing was normal, and the kids I grew up with had even nicer cars. Avery had a sleek BMW that I voiced to my dad wanting on numerous occasions.

  “Yes.”

  “When did you get that car?”

  “Umm, well, I’ve had this car for a while now actually. I just happened to get the keys to it last night.”

  “Last night?” he questioned me.

  I bit my lip. “Today’s my birthday.”

  Hayden stopped in his tracks, jaw dropped and his face lit up. “Today’s your birthday and you didn’t tell anyone?” He slammed into me and gave me the tightest bear hug possible. I laughed when he picked me up and spun me around, wishing me a happy birthday.

  He put me down and said, “When did you get your license? I can’t believe you didn’t tell anyone.”

  “I skipped tutoring and Alfred took me this morning.”

  “Dude, your car is sick. I’m buying dinner, but you’re driving.”

  Relieved over his opinion, my shoulders relaxed. “I’m okay with that.”

  Hopping into the car, I pushed the button to start the engine as Hayden looked over his shoulder at the two rows behind him.

  “Why do you have such a big car? And how come I’ve never seen it at the gym?”

  I sighed before diving into it.

  “My dad insists a bigger car is safer to drive, but he’s wrong. He just worries about a small car crushing me to death, so he got me a Tonka tank. He’s not the type you argue with and usually what he says goes. End of story. Plus, Alfred used to drop me off, which is why you probably never saw it,” my voice trailed off.

  “Hey,” Hayden said softly, pulling my chin up to meet his steady gaze. “Don’t feel embarrassed or ashamed of anything you have. I think it’s pretty cool. Gotta be honest, I’m a little shocked to see you drive something so big as small as you are. It’s a badass truck, but I’d never make you feel uncomfortable over it. I swear.”

  His thumb gently grazed my jaw, and I felt his touch all the way to my stomach. I nodded, accepting his genuine words.

  “So what does your dad do?”

  “He’s a real estate developer.”

  “Oh, that’s right. You mentioned it at Kova’s barbecue. I forgot.” I turned onto a busy street and he asked, “Do you live in a gigantic house?”

  “Well, it’s average sized...for the island.”

  “What’s averaged sized?”

  I bit my lip. “It’s a little over nine thousand square feet. There are seven bedrooms, all the boring formal rooms, two kitchens, a guesthouse, movie theater, wine cellar, gym, sauna room, and a game room. We have a three car garage and live off a private road, which I actually like.”

  His eyes grew wide. “And it’s on the beach?”

  “No, we live on a golf course. My dad is a big golfer.”

  “Wow,” he w
as speechless.

  “It’s actually really beautiful and originally belonged to the Post cereal heiress. It’s a Mediterranean style home with the original floors and same architecture from when it was first built. Nothing was touched. So for my dad, buying it was a no brainer. He appreciates that kind of stuff. My mom wanted to rip the floors up and redo everything, but he put a firm stop to that.” Unexpectedly, a shot of homesickness hit me and I frowned.

  “The beach isn’t far, which was where I spent most of my free time. Nothing compares to a Florida beach, you know? The pale sand, crystal clear water, endless rays of sun, it’s really beautiful.”

  “Well, it’s settled then.”

  “What’s settled?”

  “That I’m coming home with you over Thanksgiving break. You’re going to take me to a beach and then over to Mar-A-Lago.”

  I couldn’t stop the loud laugh that erupted from my throat. It felt good to relax and let go, and surprisingly I could with Hayden.

  “You do realize you have the ocean over here, right? You can go any time you want?”

  “I do, but after what you just told me, I want to see where you live.”

  “Well you’re in for a surprise then. People are different over there.” I flipped my blinker on and turned into the parking lot. “I’m not like them, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I shrugged, unsure of what to say. “First, you have to understand I’m not trying to flaunt my family’s money or anything. Okay? Because I don’t typically talk about it. It’s embarrassing how people do, honestly.

  “People on the Island are snotty. Everyone has money, and lots of it. Like an obscene amount. It’s all about what kind of car you drive, which designer you’re wearing, where your money comes from and so forth. A who’s who pretty much. The air is full of wealth and The Islanders turn their noses up quickly and talk so much shit. Their children are even worse because they’re raised with that kind of mentality, so their egos are the size of a watermelon by the time they enter middle school. And don’t get me started on the socialites.”

  Hayden grew silent while I looked for a parking spot and slowly tried to pull in.

  “What?” I asked, glancing at him.

  Brows cinched, he gave me a skeptical look. “Are you okay driving? You don’t look so sure of yourself right now?”

  I laughed. “I’m still not used to driving a real life Tonka truck, so I tend to pull into the parking spot the way eighty year olds typically drive—barely able to see over the steering wheel and slower than a damn turtle.”

  Hayden barked out a laugh and I continued.

  “The elderly give me road rage. I mean, they have the most experience and yet they’re the worst drivers on the planet! And best of all, they just love to retire to Florida. Why couldn’t they go to some no name town in North Dakota or something? A place where people hardly ever think to go to vacation?”

  I parked outside of Gino’s, and Hayden hopped out, making his way around as I locked my car and dropped the keys into my purse. “But you’re not like them even though you come from there,” he stated more than asked, continuing our conversation.

  Stepping inside the pizzeria, I looked him straight in the eye and said with sincerity. “No, I’m not. And I hope I don’t come across like that either.”

  Wrapping an arm around my shoulders, he drew me to him and rested his chin on top of my head. “You don’t. Not yet at least.”

  I elbowed him playfully in the ribs and pulled away.

  “Ow! That hurt.” He grinned.

  “Yeah, right. All that hard muscle and you’re hurt by a small girl like me?”

  Hayden stood tall, shoulders back and his chest purposely puffed out. “True. All this hard muscle you like to stare at…” he drifted off and began lifting his shirt. I playfully slapped his hand down and the shirt fell.

  “I know what’s under there, I see it every day. Nothing special in my opinion,” I said teasingly, turning away to hide my grin. I knew his golden stomach was flat and toned. And don’t get me started on his obliques and that tightness. Damn gymnast.

  “Adrianna. Remember, I know what your lips taste like,” he said only for my ears.

  My eyes widened as Hayden’s mischievous ones flashed back at me. I was instantly red, my cheeks blazing hot. I glanced around and spotted a girl a little older than me behind the counter.

  Clearly she got a sneak peak of Hayden’s show. “Lucky girl,” she said and smiled. “What can I get you guys?”

  I slapped his side with the back of my hand and called him a jerk, making him chuckle.

  “SO DID YOU like the pizza last night?” Hayden asked while I chalked up my hands.

  “Yeah, it was really good. Who knew there were so many different kinds? We don’t have that kind of selection back home.”

  “Where is back home again?” Reagan chimed in. I was pretty sure I already mentioned this to her.

  Glancing down at the chalk bowl, I grabbed the block of chalk and cracked it. Kind of the way I wanted to crack Reagan’s head sometimes.

  “Palm Beach County.”

  She scowled. “Where in Palm Beach County?”

  Squatting down, I looked inside my bag for my grips, but I didn’t spot them anywhere. Shit. The last thing I wanted to do was answer her while I was frantically searching for my gear.

  Pushing things around, I pulled out my extra leos and dropped them to the floor. I found the wristbands, but my grips were gone. I couldn’t do bars without them, not again, and if I ripped my hands open it would take forever to heal at the rate I trained.

  Gritting my teeth together, I responded. “Palm Beach Island, to be exact. It’s in South—”

  “I know where it is. So you’re a rich bitch, then?”

  I paused. “Excuse me?”

  “Reagan,” Hayden warned.

  “What?” she snapped.

  “Leave her alone.”

  “Why? Are you guys a thing now? Because you know that’s not allowed.”

  Giving her the sweetest, most sugary voice I could muster when she looked at me, I answered her. “Yeah, Reagan, I’m a rich bitch. Is that what your problem is with me?”

  “I just don’t understand why you would leave there and come here,” she stated. “Your dad couldn’t build a gym for you?”

  Was she serious? The urge to roll my eyes was strong at her condescending comment. “If you must know, I wanted a better gym and my dad happened to be friends with Kova, so it worked out perfectly.”

  I didn’t like confrontation, but I also didn’t cower away from it when the time called. She had absolutely no reason to feel the way she did about me. Plus, the last thing I needed was for Coach to think I had drama with any of his team girls.

  “Seriously, Reagan?” She looked at me. “What’s your problem? You hardly speak to me, yet you clearly can’t stand the sight of me. What did I do to you? Let’s just clear the air now because your attitude is getting old.”

  She gnashed her teeth together and stepped to me. “You want to know what my problem is? My problem is Coach pays you more attention than anyone else and I just don’t get it. It’s like his sole focus is on you and it’s not fair. You don’t deserve it.”

  Cry me a fucking river. “What are you talking about? He trains with you and all the other girls everyday as usual.”

  She shook her head, huffing. “He took time away from working with us so he can work on you more. I mean, God knows you need the extra hours and all, but it’s still not right. And believe me, we’ve all noticed how he looks at you.”

  I froze. No. No way could someone see anything at all between us. We were good at hiding the tension, at least I thought we were. Reagan’s words hurt, but I needed to shield my emotions immediately. I pushed away her last comment and planned to deal with it later.

  “So you want more attention, then? Is that what it is?”

  “I don’t need attention. I need a
coach who puts in as much time with me as he does for every gymnast here. He used to be like that, but once you got here it’s like he completely changed, which can only mean one reason. You.” She lowered her voice and looked down at me. “I work harder than anyone here, and I refuse to have it all taken away. I have goals and dreams, too. Not just you, Adrianna.”

  As much as I tried not to let her words bother me, they did. The looks, the comments, they all grated on my nerves. I was tired of feeling like I wasn’t good enough. I worked just as hard as any of these girls.

  “You’re wrong.” Standing up, I decided to walk away. Tears were welling in my eyes and I didn’t want her to see. I refused to listen to any more of her bitter bullshit. Rips were most likely happening, so I knew I needed to load up with as much chalk as I could now.

  With my stomach in knots and tears burning the back of my eyes, I felt myself slipping. The toll my emotions were taking came close to the edge and I needed to get them under control before I broke.

  Grabbing the honey, I squirted my hands, and patted on more chalk. Reagan’s words replayed in my head as I repeated the process, over and over again.

  Walking to the uneven bars, Hayden grabbed my arm midstride to stop me.

  “Where are your grips?” he asked, glancing at my wrists then back to my eyes, knowing the kind of end result I could face.

  I shrugged. “I have no idea, Hayden.” I said, dejectedly. “I thought I had them—”

  “Hey Reagan, let Adrianna borrow an extra pair of your grips, would ya?”

  “What are you doing,” I whispered at him, yanking my arm away. “You know she can’t stand me and honestly, I don’t want any favors from her.”

  I could swear I’d seen my grips in my bag this morning. The thought crossed my mind that maybe Reagan purposely took them out. I wouldn’t put it past her. She seemed hell bent on wanting me to fall.

  “If she’s so rich, then why doesn’t she have more?” Her squeaky voice was like nails on a chalkboard. I’d give anything to rub chalk on her vocal chords so she didn’t sound like a mouse.

  “Don’t worry, Reagan. I like the bloody rips on my hands. It feels so good when the chalk hits my red, irritated skin, turning my hands raw. What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger, right?”