Finding Our Balance

by Lauren Hopkins

  “Still, I want to wait. I’m superstitious.”

  “Nerd,” she laughs.

  I finally allow myself to check my phone, anxious to see what my parents have to say, and see about a million texts from everyone I’ve ever spoken to in my life. My parents are in there, but so is a former teacher, every aunt and uncle, various kids at school I’ve never spoken to…

  My mom’s texts read like a live blog of everything I did tonight. All of my routines were on TV, which is kind of surprising…I assumed beam would be shown but totally didn’t expect the rest to be of interest.

  There are a few texts from unknown numbers, and then the one I’m dying to see. Jack.

  Like my mom, he’s sending me his live reactions, though his are funnier and include random comments on my actions (like “you just side-eyed a girl so hard for tripping over a mat” and “your resting bitchface should be a meme”), screenshots of my face looking contorted as I grit my teeth during a skill, and snaps of me sitting on the sidelines totally zoned out, edited with thought bubbles that have me contemplating philosophical conundrums and mysteries of the universe.

  “You’re brilliant,” is his last text. I grin from ear to ear.

  “Someone sexting you?” Ruby asks, eyebrow raised. I toss my phone in my bag, shake my head, and smile.

  “Just reading my mom’s play-by-play,” I lie. “She should take over as one of the NBC commentators.”

  Ruby laughs and thankfully doesn’t ask to read it. “Your mom’s nuts.” We sit in silence for a minute, and then the rotation fanfare plays, meaning everyone has finished competing. Day one is done.

  We reach for our bags and march toward the tunnel where we’ll be interviewed before heading back to the hotel. I see the final floor score flash on the LED screen alongside the edge of the arena and prepare myself to look up at the rankings.

  Top 8 After 4 Rotations

  1. Ruby Spencer, Malkina Gold Medal Academy, 61.300

  2. Emerson Bedford, Vanyushkin Gymnastics, 60.900

  3. Amalia Blanchard, Malkina Gold Medal Academy, 60.400

  4. Maddy Zhang, Texas Tornadoes, 59.600

  5. Zara Morgan, Reynolds Gymnastics and Cheer, 59.300

  6. Charlotte Kessler, Windy City Gymnastics Club, 58.900

  7. Bailey Dawson, Windy City Gymnastics Club, 58.600

  8. Amaya Logan, Waimea Sports Center, 58.300

  My hand flies to my mouth and I look at Ruby.

  “Told ya so,” she smiles.

  Third place. Only my own teammates, the best gymnasts in the country, are ahead of me. Oh, and by the way, I got a 15.8 on beam with a 7.1 start value. Holy. Crap.

  ***

  “Thanks so much,” I say for the billionth time tonight, this time to a junior gymnast and her family before leaving the elevator at the hotel.

  We get off and head down the long hallway to our rooms, takeout salads in hand. I’m basically floating. Ever since I saw my score, life has been magical.

  At interviews, I heard more compliments than questions. We were only in the mixed zone for about five minutes, and all the journalists asked was how we thought our performances went, if we were happy, and what we wanted to work on before Saturday.

  We went out the main arena doors instead of through the athlete entrance because of the huge crowds that had gathered. Of course, we were still recognized, but by the time we left, the main doors were mostly clear so it was only a few kids who stopped us for autographs and pictures.

  The whole experience was so surreal. There were a few fans waiting at the Open, though most got to me as part of a package deal with Emerson and Ruby, the main attractions. But tonight I was on their level. I felt like a rock star.

  Sergei went out and bought dinner while we finished up with fans. When we met up with him at the hotel, there were more people in the lobby waiting to meet us and the other gymnasts staying there. After about 20 minutes, Natasha finally led us to the elevators, apologizing to the crowds.

  “They’re starving, guys,” she yelled over the noise. “And so am I.”

  By the time Ruby and I make our way into our room, it’s almost 11. We invite Emerson in, and the three of us sit cross-legged on my bed going over the events of the day.

  “I honestly can’t believe it,” I admit, referring to my ranking.

  “Almost a point ahead of Maddy,” Ruby laughs. “I wish I could’ve seen the look on her face when she saw. I bet it looked a bit like Emerson’s face when she saw she was four tenths behind me. I did see that.”

  “Very funny,” Emerson rolls her eyes. “Just remember it was only one day. We still have Saturday.”

  “I’m so ready for Saturday,” I announce. “It’s crazy how much of a motivator this was. Now all I care about is beating my score from today.”

  “Just do what you did today and you’ll kick ass,” Ruby smiles.

  “Yeah, you got over the hump,” Emerson adds. “Going down the mountain is way easier than going up.”

  We eat in silence for a few minutes, Ruby flipping through channels. Emerson’s phone vibrates and she taps out what sounds like the world’s longest response.

  “Anyone interesting?” Ruby asks.

  “No.”

  “Come on, spill,” Ruby presses. “Secret lover? Long lost sister with a Lifetime movie background story? Drug dealer threatening to share your addiction with the world?”

  “How do I shut her up without punching her in the throat?” Emerson looks at me, pleading for help.

  “Yep, she’s frustrating,” I sigh, and then turn to Ruby, motioning for her to shut up.

  “If you must know, it’s my mom.” She fake yawns. “I should go. I can’t stay awake a second longer.”

  “Night, Em,” I say, watching her disappear into the hallway and quietly close our door behind her. I get up and deadbolt it just to be safe.

  “What was that all about?” Ruby laughs. “The best thing about Emerson is that she usually fights back. This Emerson is no fun.”

  “Come on, leave her alone,” I warn. “Not everyone has it in them to match your levels of personality at all times.”

  “For real, do you know what’s going on?”

  “Yes,” I finally say after a long pause. No use keeping this from Ruby. I mean, Maddy knows, and wants to use the info against her…at least this way, Ruby will at least understand that she has to be somewhat sensitive to what’s going on.

  I tell her what Emerson told me at our weird sleepover a couple weeks back, about her mom trying to make a buck off of her daughter and the subsequent threats that forced Emerson to change all of her contact info and move halfway across the country.

  “Wow,” Ruby exhales once I’m done. “No wonder Maddy was so excited to share the news of her mom being here. Emerson must know now, huh?”

  “Yeah, I’d imagine if her mom is texting her, she probably has a clue.”

  “We should set her phone on fire or something so she can’t text.” Ruby stands up and angrily slams her copy of People on the desk. “Like, how dare her mother show up and mess with her head and try to ruin this for her? What a bitch.”

  “I didn’t think you’d care this much about protecting Emerson.”

  “It’s more about not wanting her to go through what I went through. To go into an Olympic year as the best in the country and then blow it because you’re injured or there’s something mentally messing with you? It’s literally the worst thing that can happen as a gymnast. We may not get along and I wouldn’t necessarily choose to hang out with her, but I wouldn’t want anyone dealing with that heartbreak.”

  I can’t think of anything to say. “I get it,” I finally respond, and head to the bathroom to start unpinning my hair, which is one big mess of hairspray, sticking out at every angle once out of the bun. “I’m taking a shower,” I yell over the sound of the TV and the running water.

  “Cool,” Ruby yells back. “I’ll probably be asleep when you come out. Awesome job again today, for c
ereal.”

  I smile to myself, and wait for the water to get hot. “Thanks, Rube. You too.”

  Right as I’m about to climb into the tub, my phone dings. I grab it with my dry hand and take a look, my heartbeat quickening. Somehow I know it’s from Jack.

  “You’re probably getting ready for bed,” it reads, “but you were seriously incredible today. I’m so proud of you. Just wanted to tell you that. FaceTime tomorrow?”

  I stare at my phone until I feel bad for the amount of water I’m wasting. Every part of me wants to respond with my every feeling for him, feelings that have multiplied times a billion since the night he gave me his gifts, but I would feel so awkward. Like, especially over text. I think for a second and just type “Sure and omg you are the BEST, thank you!” I add a toothy smiley face emoji and then toss my phone to the counter before finally getting in the shower.

  The pulsating stream feels amazing on my muscles, still tense from the meet, and I try to scrub Jack from my mind, instead focusing on the great gymnastics things that happened today. Hitting my routines. Killing it on beam. Finishing third. Kicking butt. And I’m gonna keep kicking butt all the way to Rio.

  Friday, June 3, 2016

  63 days left

  “Vera would kill us all if she found out I was letting you go to the guys’ meet, so once and for all, it’s a no,” Natasha says. “Sorry.”

  Ruby groans. “So we’re locked up for the night, then?”

  “Yes. Just chill out and enjoy it. Tomorrow’s a big day. You’ll be able to watch everything on TV anyway. I’ll even get you some popcorn.”

  “Cool, no salt, no butter, no taste. That totally makes up for being imprisoned.”

  Natasha rolls her eyes and turns back to the margarita she’s enjoying with dinner. The day has been low key and boring, with our meals, a workout in the hotel gym, and a brief walk around the river our only release. Otherwise we’ve been stuck in our room, though I have to admit I enjoyed the time off. It’s basically how I spend my Sundays, lazy and relaxed.

  I got to FaceTime with Jack for like ten minutes when he was up and getting ready for school, but it’s not easy to carry on a conversation when Ruby, ahem, is screaming in the background, making herself laugh with her newly adopted Boston accent.

  We finish eating dinner and I’m excited to get back to the room for a hot bath during the senior meet, which I’ll watch from the tub with the door open. Yes, I am so excited about this bath. Bubbles, a cup of tea…I’m secretly 90 years old.

  Emerson joins us in the deli where we buy a couple bags of fat-free no-butter popcorn and microwave them there. Ruby starts eating from her bag while Emerson and I wait for our shared bag to pop, causing

  Emerson to stick up her nose.

  “Don’t be so disgusted,” Ruby says, her mouth full. “It’s a 100 calorie bag. It’s like eating air.”

  “It’s not what you’re eating, but how you’re eating. You’re like a cartoon character.”

  “Whatever,” Ruby retorts.

  “There she is!” we suddenly hear a woman scream.

  Emerson whips around to face the bar. “Oh, shit.”

  “What?” Ruby asks between bites, though Emerson doesn’t respond. Her eyes are glued on this woman seated at the bar, surrounded by a flock of people. I know instantly. Her mother.

  “Emerson, baby!” The very large and very Midwestern woman comes barreling toward us, Emerson stuck in stunned silence, Ruby continuing to munch popcorn.

  “Mom. I thought you said you weren’t gonna stop by until after the meet.”

  “I did! I didn’t know you’d be here. Small world.” Mrs. Bedford leans in for a hug.

  “It’s the host hotel, mom. What, were you just hanging out in the lobby hoping to catch me going past?

  “Come on, Emerson, I’m just here having a drink with some friends.”

  “Yeah, I can smell it. Your breath is atrocious. And what friends? You don’t know these people.”

  “We just met,” her mom snaps. “You’re being awfully rude. This is no way to talk to your mother, especially after disappearing and not even telling me.”

  “You know why I left,” Emerson hisses. “I don’t have time for this. I’ll see you after the meet tomorrow. If you want to mooch more money from me, I actually need to win. Goodnight, mother.”

  Emerson storms off to the elevator. Her mother laughs, calling out, “what a diva!” I watch her run back to her “friends,” none of whom heard the hushed conversation but are clamoring for details about the future Olympian.

  “She had to go off and get her beauty rest,” Mrs. Bedford says a little too loudly. “As if she needs it! She’s a natural beauty. Pretty obvious she gets it from me!”

  Ruby rolls her eyes. “Come on.”

  We run toward the elevator and storm down the hallway to her room.

  “You okay, Em?” Ruby knocks but she doesn’t respond. “Come on, it’s just me and Mal.”

  The door opens and there’s Emerson, her face tear-streaked. She’s biting her thumbnail, the first sign of weakness I’ve ever seen her show in public.

  “She wants to ruin my life,” Emerson says after a minute of pacing back and forth.

  “It’s not that bad,” Ruby tries to calm her. “So what, she brags about you to a bunch of random fans. I thought you wanted everyone to think you had the perfect life and the perfect family? What’s more perfect than like, the most over-enthusiastic mom ever?”

  “Believe me, a mother trying to steal money from you while getting drunk and saying God knows what to a bunch of random people isn’t perfect.”

  “You’re an adult. How does she have any control over your money?”

  “She doesn’t have control over my money, she has control over me. If I don’t give her money, she threatens to go to the press. Empty threats, at least I think they’re all empty, but I can’t escape her. I move to Seattle, and she follows me to nationals. I can’t deal with her now, not with finals tomorrow.”

  “So don’t deal with her. Ignore her. Forget about today, do your job tomorrow, say hi to her after, and be done with it.”

  “It’s not that simple!”

  “I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t understand why this is stressing you out as much as it is.”

  Emerson sighs and starts rage-tidying her room. “All my mother has to do is tell the press one little detail about how my perfect existence isn’t actually as perfect as people think, and bam, that’s what the press focuses on. I just don’t need it. Just having her here makes me stressed. I feel like I’m going to lose it. It’s too distracting.”

  We’re all silent for a minute, and then Emerson’s phone starts to buzz.

  “My mom,” she says, staring at the many messages piling up on the screen. She swipes her screen and reads to herself. “She said she met a fan who can’t believe Ruby beat me and said it’s a bad omen and that my peak was last fall. See?! Who says that to someone the day before a competition?”

  “Ignore her,” I finally say. “Turn your phone off and push her out of your head. You can’t let someone who clearly doesn’t care about you, no offense, ruin what you’ve worked for from day one.”

  Emerson continues staring at her phone, trying to decide whether to respond. Ruby finally snatches it from her, throws it on the floor, and stomps on it. “Sorry, Emerson,” she says. “I’ll buy you a new one.”