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“Your family?” Sarah asked with general curiosity.
I swallowed back, trying to figure out how to answer her statement without giving away too much. Thankfully Kova jumped in.
“Her family…is an affluent one,” was all he said. He used his hands when he said affluent, as if it described the word. Everyone’s heads turned my way. Heat rushed up my chest, to my cheeks. My ears burned from the stares.
“My dad’s a real estate developer. Think the Hiltons, only smaller,” was my explanation.
“That’s pretty damn cool. So he can build me a house one day?” Hayden asked.
I smiled, silently thanking him. “Possibly.”
“So what’s your driver’s name?” asked Holly.
“His name is Thomas, but I call him Alfred. He’s not too keen on it.”
Sarah grinned. “Like Batman.”
“Yeah,” I smiled. That lightened the subject. “Once I start driving he won’t be here. So I’m not really alone per se, since he’s always around…somewhere.”
“It must be really lonely to have no one,” Reagan said, feigning sympathy. “That’s the one plus of living in a shared apartment, nothing like having a mom around to lean on. It’s really the best feeling.”
I nodded slowly, pretending to take in her words like they meant something. If she only knew how happy I was to not have my mom around.
“My dad is a bit of a control freak. There’s no way I’d be allowed to stay in an apartment with someone he doesn’t know, so I live in the penthouse in one of his condos. It’s really safe and private. I love it. The view is incredible and I have a ton of space. If I need anything, Thomas will get it for me, or he’ll take me. And since my dad and Kova are friends, if there’s some sort of emergency, he’s always here for me too. I’m reall
y very fortunate to have what I have and the people around me.” My eyes locked with Kova. He deepened the stare before agreeing with my statement.
That shut her up.
Fear was a bitch, and in this sport, it could cripple you.
Literally.
Fear challenged courage. It challenged the mind. Once we found courage, it meant never looking back. It persevered and defied. It gave strength to conquer the obstacles that rendered one weak.
Successful people fought for what they wanted, what they desired in life no matter what they were up against. Willpower was key, and maybe if I turned my fear into desire, it would override my anxiety. It was the only way to escape the emotion.
I knew I needed to practice what I preached, but it was easier said than done. As was everything. I’d rather train for a new tumbling sequence with front flips, or Level E release moves and bar changes before jumping on beam.
I hated beam. Dreaded it. It was the one event I needed the most work on. I feared the four-inch piece of wood like it had the ability to incapacitate me. But only I could do that.
When I was a child, my dad surprised me with a small, low balance beam for Christmas one year. My fear of the beam started early and I hardly used it. This fear I created in the front of my mind was hard to break. Balancing on a piece of wood that was four feet off the ground didn’t sound like much, but when you factor in leaps or turns while balancing on the tips of your toes—let’s not forget the back-flips and full-twists with blind landings on a four-inch width—yeah, good luck.
Then try sticking it without straddling the beam and slamming down on your crotch and getting beam burn. That’s what I called it, beam burn. It was like rug burn, but from the balance beam. It looked and felt the same. Hurt like a bitch from my inner thighs to my crotch. I’d fallen so hard in the past I actually bled.
It was literally like getting smacked with a piece of wood between your legs. Talk about excruciating pain.
“Come on, Adrianna,” Kova groaned, while I wobbled on the beam after landing a double switch leap.
He almost sounded defeated. Again, I jumped off one foot, split my legs as far apart as possible, then switched them quickly so that the leg that was in the front ended up in the back. Once I landed, I took one step, and did it again. After landing quickly—wobble free—it required a full twist.
“Your hips are leaning forward which is why you are taking the extra step at the end! Do it again but without the turn!” Kova ordered, and my heart started to race. “Relevé your foot so you are up on your toes and bring your shoulders back before you leap!” He slapped the back of his hand into his palm to get his point across.
It was my stupid fear, even after years of practicing, that I was going to fall.
Stepping into the jump, Kova yelled, “Square your hips so they are centered over the beam!” I dropped my arms and looked at him. He was livid, past the point of angry and ready to move into seething with fury. The team girls stared at me and I was embarrassed. I chewed my bottom lip as I watched his expression turn darker while the fire in his eyes seared my skin.
“I told you to relevé into it first! My accent may be strong, but I know you understand what I am saying. Or did you forget that in dance already? Slowly lift your back heel before stepping into the leap. Do it again. And with some damn grace. You look like you are jumping on a trampoline.”
