by Lucia Franco
But what stole my attention wasn't Holly's impressive routine. It was the burning glare coming from my right, searing a hole into my head. It was impossible not to feel the intensity of those spiteful eyes.
Reagan.
My smile faltered as she stared at me with a scowl so profound it caused a shiver to run down my spine. She lifted one brow and angled her head to the side, then shifted her gaze over to our coach.
She'd seen everything she needed to. And I’d let her.
Forty
My parents hadn't shown up until this morning.
Naturally.
My stomach fluttered at the thought of my mom coming to my first big qualifier meet. Not my dad, even though he'd been to less meets than Mom. I knew she was waiting for me to fail. My gut said she did because she never saw my dream as anything more than an expensive hobby, and that said more than anything else. Maybe Dad felt the same way, but he never openly stated it. He encouraged me and supported my hard work and dedication. Each slip up was an open door for my mom to criticize me, to insist I do something else with my spare time. I pictured her in the stands, glaring down at me, somewhere between uninterested and annoyed.
Anxiety seized my chest as a sharp pain tore through it. I closed my eyes and counted to ten, breathing deeply and slowly, just as Kova had shown me. Gymnastics was my life. It was my passion. My outlet. All you had to do was open your eyes and watch my heart speak for me.
I was going to show her that with my performance. Today was my day.
Swallowing away the worry, I opened my eyes and glanced around the gym. Chalk permeated the air. A springboard rebounded and feet slammed onto a dismount mat. Classical music blared on the speakers and the sound of the bars ricocheting echoed in the distance. The meet was in full swing.
There were three judges at every event. They sat at a long table, dressed in navy blue business attire with notepads and clipboards at their fingertips. Their beady eyes criticizing every little thing. With so much against me, I trained hard for this day. Blood and sweat. I pushed my body. My coaches pushed harder. Now I just had to allow my love for the sport to shine.
My team walked in a perfectly straight line toward vault. Chin up, shoulders back. World Cup was second on rotation. Which meant I had less than an hour until I competed.
We were dressed in matching black sweat suits with a leotard underneath. Of course, Kova would've picked black. It was the only color he ever saw and wore. Our leos were even black, but with swirls of peridot Swarovski crystals curving and swooping like ocean waves. Hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, not a flyaway in site. Jewelry was removed and sports bras hidden away.
Stepping up to the row of chairs that lined the gym wall, we spread out and took a seat. I began shuffling through my duffle bag for my gear when my wrist caught a sharp corner. I pulled back.
Brows scrunched together, I slid aside the extra leotard I carried with me and I drew in a breath as a hard surface appeared before me.
It was the notebook I'd given Kova. I'd forgotten he'd taken it that night.
My eyes widened and I hastily tried to block the view of my bag by flipping down the top and concealing the contents. My eyes skipped around the small group to see if anyone saw or heard anything, but they were oblivious. My heartbeat thundered in my ears. When I felt confident no one saw anything, I looked back at the little notebook. I wondered when Kova had the opportunity to sneak it in my bag, and why he'd changed his mind after adamantly telling me it was a stupid idea.
Instantly I became paranoid. Again, my eyes shifted from side to side without turning my head to see if anyone caught anything. My adrenaline spiked, my heart rate jumped.
He played this game better than me. I never even saw him slip it in.
My fingers stroked the thin, hard edge. I contemplated opening the notebook now instead of later. I wasn't worried someone would see me reading, I didn't think anyone would care, I worried there would be something that could mentally mess with me before the meet. That's what I feared the most.
I chewed my bottom lip, unsure how to fight the curiosity that bubbled inside me. Maybe I could just peek…
But instead I glanced away, fighting the urge, and caught Kova's pointed stare. Our eyes locked and all the air left my lungs. He openly watched me with a prudent gaze that simmered with thirst. The chain linking us tightened around my heart and drew me closer.
He gave me a subtle nod.
Kova wanted me to read what he wrote.
Shit.
My anxiety was flying high. This time when I glanced around at those surrounding me, I took note of their actions. When I believed no one would question me, I pretended to stretch out and leaned down. I made sure my bag shielded what I was about to do and flipped open the hardcover to the first page.
I took a risk for you. Now take a risk for me and drop every fear you have ever had. Go out there and be defiant. Refuse to lose.
He didn't sign it. Didn't give himself away. He kept it discreet.
A silent sigh of relief rolled off my lips and my mouth curved into a fainthearted smile. This man. My chest was lighter and so was my fear. I closed the book shut. Then I grabbed the small bag I used to store pads and tampons in and quickly stuffed it in there. I zipped it up, then topped it with my clothes and closed my gym bag shut.
I sat on my knees and pulled on my wristbands. I recalled the words in my head, hearing his voice each time. He had taken a risk for me. Many risks. Way too many risks to count. My goal had been the same since the start and now it just took a little deviation.
I was going to do as he asked. I would take a risk for him and drop every fear I've ever had. I would be defiant. I would refuse to lose.
After my grips were on, I realized I hadn't taped my ankle to alleviate the pain. I should've done that step first since my grip was now limited, but my mind had been elsewhere. A disgruntled huff escaped me as I ripped back the Velcro with a scowl and dropped the wristbands to the floor. Just as I was about to wrap the sports tape around my foot to relieve the strain on my Achilles, Kova walked over and crouched down. He placed his palm out and waved his fingers for the tape without speaking a word. I slapped the roll of tape in his hand and gave him my foot, putting my weight on my arms behind me. I glanced away. Kova was better at wrapping up my Achilles anyway.
"You ready for today?"
"Ready as I'll ever be."
"You do not think you could be better?"
I huffed, shaking my head. I knew he wasn't goading me. "There's always room for improvement, Coach. You know this, but as of right now, I'm ready." I paused, then took a chance and debated quickly whether I wanted his answer or not. "Do you think I'm ready?"
He didn't lift his head, but the corner of his mouth curved up at my question. He took a moment to respond as he expertly wrapped up my injury.
Lowering his voice, he tipped his head up just enough for me to see his eyes. Damn those fucking eyes of his. They always got me.
"If I did not think you were ready, you would not be here. Trust me. You are more than ready."
Kova placed my foot on the floor, giving my ankle a gentle squeeze before he let go. His knees cracked as he stood to his full height, our gazes still connected. Reaching out with his hand, he helped me up. There was a stillness inside me amid the chaos surrounding us as we stared into one another's eyes. With Kova’s support, confidence roared through me. He changed my whole mind frame. I was a cub, and he was the lion who breathed strength into me.
A bashfulness came over me. I turned away, trying to hide the happiness I knew rushed from within. My cheeks burned, which didn't help the plum blush I applied earlier. His raspy chuckle caught my ears and when I turned back around, Kova had a full grin spread across his charismatic face. My heart nearly stopped. This wasn't just any old smile. This was a full-on, I'm so proud to call you mine, type smile.
And he did it in a place filled with cameras.
Be still my wild heart.
&
nbsp; Kova cupped my shoulder and squeezed. "Everyone will be watching. Show them what you're made of, Adrianna."
Forty-One
I stomped my feet in chalk to absorb the dampness and watched as the powdery white smoke formed a cloud around my shins.
I was next to perform.
My palms were clammy, and my body was jittery. I had an abundance of adrenaline pumping through me and shaky nerves to combat against it. I was worked up and excited, eager yet wired, but I also felt like I had eighty-seven shots of caffeine streaming through my veins.
Kova had walked with me to the end of the vault runway. I tightened my wristbands and shook out my legs as I listened to him speak only to me, giving me last-minute tips and reminders. Holly had already gone, so had Reagan. Holly took a giant step to the right, while Reagan stuck her landing. Naturally.
Now, it was my turn.
"Remember, you start a foot back. Long and low into the board. Get your body over and hands on the table fast so you get a good block. As soon as you hit the flight peak—remember to glue your ankles together—crank as hard and as fast as you can."
I nodded hastily at Kova's directions and tightened the Velcro across my wrists. I'd started using wristbands for vault not too long ago, similar to the ones I had for bars, only these were padded and used to support my wrist from the huge block I needed to gain height. It also helped with the pinching and tenderness I had in my wrists after working tumbling passes on the floor for hours on end, but Kova didn't know about that.
"Breathe through your stomach," Kova suggested, a soothing tone meant to ease my worries. I looked at him with gratitude and my nerves immediately calmed down.
Kova placed his hands on my shoulders, bent down, and looked squarely into my eyes.
"Focus. Do not crack. You got this."
I nodded again, eyes alert but words escaped me. Kova walked away, back to where the team and coaches were, while I stood at the end of the runway. I shot a glance at the judges’ table. Three women of various ages in blue dress suits and stiff posture communicated over a table of papers and pencils as they decided on Holly's score. My stomach tightened. My heart was racing a mile a minute, pounding fervently against my chest while I waited for them to give me the green light.
Here we go.
Expelling a deep breath, I got behind the white line I'd drawn with chalk earlier and fixated my gaze explicitly on the vault. I shook my hands out.
Be defiant, echoed in my head. Drop the fear.
A wall came down and I envisioned my outcome. Lifting my arms, I saluted the judges and swallowed away everything except for what I was about to do. Within seconds, I was speeding down the runway, heading toward the large stationary object I was about to flip over. I tightened every muscle in my body as I pumped my legs, running as fast as I could. Within ten feet or so, I stretched my hurdle to prepare for the round-off, and everything Kova and Madeline had taught me came roaring at me. It hit me like a ton of bricks and everything locked into place. Muscle memory took over and both feet punched the springboard hard. I sprung back onto the vault where I blocked the hardest I'd ever blocked in my life and reached for the ceiling, preparing to twist into an Amanar. My block was like a rocket taking off. I got the flight Kova said I always needed, and I knew right then and there this was going to be a good vault. Squeezing tight, ankles glued together, I pulled hard and completed the two and a half twists required of this skill and spotted for the floor. I opened up and landed with both feet together on the blue mat, my arms raised above my head, and stuck my dismount. I nailed it. I fucking nailed it. Every muscle in my body was firm and solid as I saluted without a wobble or hop. I tried to veil the smile that slowly spread across my face, but executing and sticking the Amanar wasn't easy.
And I knew in my gut I had done extremely well.
Cheering erupted almost immediately, I could hear my teammates shouting their praise. Turning, I saluted unimpressed judges once more before stepping off the landing mat to look for my coach.
Kova wore a contagious grin with his hand in the air to high five me.
"Quite possibly the best vault I have seen you do to date." My eyes turned to wide saucers. His words shot through me. "I could not find even one thing to pick at."
"Really?" I was stunned. He nodded, brows raised high with a huge smile on his face.
"It was fantastic. It should put you in the top three, maybe two."
My heart leaped as I considered his words while I walked back to the end of the runway again. I repeated the motions in my head, visualizing myself as I waited for the okay to go. I applied more chalk, a nervous habit. It was crazy how fast feet could sweat in a such a short amount of time.
My score flashed, and I looked at the screen. I knew to keep my face neutral, but my heart wavered for a split second. The displeased crowd put their feelings on display, alerting the judges they were not happy. Chills shot down my arms. My empty stomach tossed around.
It wasn’t what I had hoped for, I was pleased with it, but I wanted better.
Kova threw his hands in the air, grimacing at the numbers. His eyes hardened as he glared at the judges and yelled, wanting to know where they found an error.
Typical coach behavior. They all did it.
Once the judges were ready, I didn't waste any time. I swiped the excess chalk from my hands and moved straight into the second vault. Putting everything I could muster into it, I executed another Amanar and stuck the landing. It felt incredible, like I did it just as well as the first one. I saluted the judges and turned toward my team and coaches, stepping down the three steps to where they were. This time I didn't smile. I didn't show emotion. And I certainly didn't get my hopes up.
I spotted Kova first. The dark specks in his irises looked like black diamonds glistening against the energetic green.
It was clear. Kova was proud. And that made me so happy.
I slapped his hand and he pulled me into a quick hug.
"Excellent work, Adrianna." I drew in the scent of his cologne and felt his words deep inside.
Madeline strode over with her hands out and eyes wide, silently questioning me. There was a slight glimmer there. She pulled me into a hug. "Where did that come from?" she asked, sounding extremely satisfied and astonished. "You exploded off that table like you invented the skill. Well done, girly."
"Thank you," was all I could say through a toothy grin. My score went up and it couldn't have been better. Both coaches yelled their enthusiasm, and a massive smile split my cheeks. It pushed Reagan out of first place and down to second, third place held by another team's gymnast. I wasn't ahead by much, but it was enough to secure first place, for now.
"Not bad, Rossi," Reagan said without looking at me. "But I'd be careful with how you and Kova look at each other the rest of the meet. He has hunger in his eyes."
I deadpanned. "Hunger, Reagan? Who says that? And if I saw correctly, he looked at you just the same. And Holly. Stop trying to read into something that isn't there just because you're pissed that I knocked you out of the standings."
I didn't give her a chance to respond. And I didn't wait for her. I stood and grabbed my bag, placing it over my shoulder and walked to the next rotation.
Up next were the uneven bars. Once I secured my grips, I began pacing up and down the athlete area to keep my body warm and loose. My arms swung from side to side, and I hiked up my knees, jumping around. I didn't watch other competitors, and I didn't look in the stands for familiar faces. I kept my focus on my team and my routines and what my coaches instructed. That's it.
Like vault, I excelled at bars, but the ricketiness of them on podium rocked me a bit. I could see a subtle give and take while Holly connected skills, flowing from one bar to the other, releasing it with force only to grab it again.
It was mind over matter. Always mind over matter when it came to gymnastics. I knew this. But it was never that easy.
Holly's dismount was seconds away, which meant I had a handful of mi
nutes until it was my turn.
"You are your only limit," Kova said quietly behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and turned around.
A small smile tipped my lips and I tightened my ponytail. "Are you going to say inspirational quotes before each event?"
He shrugged. "They are not inspirational when I mean them." He hesitated for a moment, then said, "I like seeing you smile."
I glanced away, trying not to let his words affect me. "You know, Reagan said something to me about how you look at me."
Kova muttered under his breath in Russian. There was a sting to his words, a bite, and after witnessing him and Katja argue a few times, I knew whatever he said wasn't pleasant. Though, he was just as good as I was at concealing his facial expressions. No one would’ve suspected anything.
"What was that?"
"Nothing you need to hear. What did you say to her?"
"That she was acting like a sore loser since I knocked her out of the vault standings." I wasn't going to mention her diet pill issue, even though I'd love nothing more than to rat her out.
He nodded. "Let us go. Your turn is next."
Without hesitation, Kova walked up onto the platform with me like he belonged there. We parted ways. He stood off to the side while I took a stance in front of the low bar. I'd told him earlier I didn't need him to spot, and I didn't, but I knew he was just trying to help calm my nerves since I wasn't used to everything being so unsteady. Which I appreciated.
Saluting the judges, I glided into a kip then cast to a handstand, smoothly swinging under the bar, a free hip circle to another handstand, then released and flowed to the high bar. Once on the high bar in a handstand, I saw Kova move in for my big release. Being there and doing nothing, for whatever reason, seemed to ease a gymnast’s mind. A coach would never allow the gymnast to perform a skill they hadn't mastered a thousand times, but it also didn't mean that they weren't scared as shit at the same time.
It meant they were human.