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“Hey, Reagan,” I said, being friendly. I was looking forward to making team friends.
She turned to me, paused, then said, “Hey.”
I wasn’t sure why, but I got the impression she wasn’t a fan of me being here, which kind of bothered me. Team girls were just that—a unified team. We worked together, were like sisters, and usually had an unbreakable bond. I had a good team of girls back home who supported each other to the end, so I expected to have the same here.
“How long have you been on the team?”
“I’ve been with World Cup since I could walk,” she responded hastily without picking her head up from the chalk bowl. “My family is actually from Cape Coral. I’m not a transfer.”
Then she gave me her back and geared up to take her vault. I watched as Reagan performed an Amanar, landing almost perfectly without the slightest movement, not even a balance check. My eyebrows hit my hairline over her nearly perfect vault. Knowing I was next, I looked around for Kova to see where he was and noticed his eyes trained on her. Holy hell...there was a smile on his face. I mean, there should’ve been with that vault, but he didn’t seem like the type to ever crack a grin. Reagan beamed at him and walked to the end of the vault runway with confidence in her stride.
I’d been practicing a double-twisting Yurchenko. Unfortunately, I almost always took a step once I landed, which earned me deductions. Most gymnasts took a step or a hop. It was hard not to with all the power and momentum forcefully flying out of us.
My best bet would be to work on my alternate vault, but I wasn’t crazy about anything front flipping, so I avoided them as much as possible. I wasn’t a lazy gymnast, they just made me uneasy turning in the air in that direction. Not to mention, a blind landing was risky because I didn’t want to hyperextend my knees.
But with that bizarre conditioning of bouncing on your knees Coach had us doing earlier, I was almost positive I was training my knees for hyperextension a
nyway.
“That was incredible!” I said to her excitedly. While it was becoming more popular, an Amanar was one of the hardest vaults in the world for women to get right. It required blocking really hard by pushing off the vault table with your shoulders and keeping your arms straight.
“I know.”
My mom would’ve slapped my face if that had been my response.
“How long have you been practicing it?” Even with her nasty attitude, I was genuinely curious.
She shrugged, not making eye contact. “Not very long. It was easy for me, actually. None of the other girls can stick it like I can,” she said smugly. “Kova said my vault will help my all-around and boost my score.”
Wow. I didn’t want to know if she was capable of becoming any more pretentious.
“Well, that’s fabulous for the team. I’m sure the girls are grateful for your capability, seeing as you think they’re lacking.” I couldn’t help it, I had to get in a little jab. Growing up in Palm Beach, I really disliked snotty girls, and I could tell Reagan was just that. So I knew how to get in and get out with a plastic smile.
I made my way to the runway and performed a one and a half Yurchenko, instead of a double. I wanted to impress and went with a clean landing, so I played it safe. The key was to start with a high-tall hurdle with my chest up, then round-off, and drive my arms back into the vault to execute a big, powerful block. Then kick my legs together and scoop my toes, squeezing my butt and using my abs to drive momentum to follow with a tight twist. Spotting my landing, I drove my heels into the ground.
Once I landed with a hop, Kova swirled his finger around for me to do it again. This time, I landed with a huge hop from too much power and I grimaced, squeezing my eyes shut. I knew I screwed up and he caught it.
Opening my eyes, I looked at Kova who stared me down without any emotion on his face. He said nothing, so I opted to speak.
“Shall I do it again?”
“Can you do any other vault?”
I bit the inside of my lip. “I can do a double Yurchenko. It needs a little work, but I can try it.”
“Are you going to injure yourself trying it?”
“No.” I could do a double, but I was too nervous to so I did the one and a half.
“It is something you have done before?”
“Yes.”
“Then do it. Reagan!” he yelled. “Let Adrianna go again real quick.”
Reagan made an audible grunting sound, so I apologized to her. The quickest way to make friends was not having the coach ordering me to cut in rotation.
I chalked up my feet and then took a deep breath, shaking out my hands.
