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"I'm okay. I was just thinking about the future is all."
His features shifted back into place. Back into Coach Kova. "Adrianna, let me handle my schedule. You just focus on you, yes?"
I blinked. "I am focused, but I was thinking about these little tears and how I don't want to make it worse. I've been doing a lot of online reading and that blading is supposed to do wonders."
Kova studied me. I made no sense. I know I didn't. I pushed and pushed, and argued with Kova over not slowing down, despite his suggestions. I knew any worse and it would be a full-blown rupture, and then I could kiss my gymnastics career goodbye. I wanted to be bold and courageous, but I was a little lamb picking on an animal bigger than me. I was going to give it my all and then some, but I still had to be careful.
"Use your brain. Think about what you are doing, what you need to do, and do it. Your body will know. Focus on right now and yourself and nothing more."
"But, Kova, you take time out to help me, so I want to help you if I can." I paused and looked away, slightly embarrassed. "You do a lot for me."
"I appreciate that. And after this weekend, we will work it out. But for now, you are not to think of anything else but yourself and your routines. Let me take care of the rest." Kova glanced up and over my head, someone had called his name. "You are next on rotation. Get ready."
I nodded and took three steps before he stopped me. I looked up and over my shoulder, then turned around, puzzled. "Yes?"
"I do a lot because I enjoy doing it for you, not because I have to." He held up a pointer finger, a brow raised high. "Remember that. Also, stay off the internet. It is garbage."
An appreciative smile tipped my lips just a fraction, enough for him to see. The tension in my shoulders eased and I turned away to prepare for vault, beyond thankful I had someone like him in my corner.
* * *
Another meet in the books and I was flying high, until Kova announced he wouldn't be at the following one. My stomach knotted for a split moment. I needed him there with me, we were a team, but I figured he had taken my advice and planned to sign up for the class to get certified.
I placed second. Point zero zero one was the difference between first and second. One one-thousandth of a fraction was all it took to move me down one step on the podium.
Was that fraction even something visible to the eye? I wish I knew where my deductions were.
It sucked. God, it sucked big time.
"Hey," Madeline said when she saw my face just as we were about to board the plane. Both my parents had skipped the meet, common in the gymnastics world for parents to do, so I flew with my coaches and team. "Don't be so hard on yourself. You tried and that's what matters. You did fantastic, Adrianna. This is your second elite meet and you blew me away by your strength to thrive under pressure. So many girls let nerves get to them. You don't and that's what sets you apart."
I pulled my duffle strap closer to my neck, gripping it hard. I shook my head, still upset with myself for losing the top spot.
"But I didn't try hard enough or else I'd be coming home with a different color medal."
"You're new to this kind of competition. It's gymnastics on steroids. What you've done so far has been nothing less than impressive." She paused. "How's your leg?"
"It's fine." She tilted her head down and gave me the look, the kind your parents give when they think you're lying to them. I tried not to smile, but I couldn't help it. "It's fine, really. I had that blood injection thing, or whatever it's ca
lled, and I've been taking the vitamins and it's been great since then. Honestly."
"All right. Let me know if you need anything, ever."
I nodded, and she walked ahead of me, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Kova had been right that time he said silver is first place loser.
"Coming in second place is the worst feeling after you just gave your all. There are winners and there are losers. You play a sport to win—that is it. Nothing else. You have one chance to prove yourself. One."
I made a vow to myself to never come in anything but first. It was already my goal to be number one, but now that I've had a taste of it, I wanted the whole damn plate. No low-fat, fat-free for me. Give me all, or give me nothing. Anything less than first was pointless and it made me question what else I could've done. I replayed my routines in my head, trying to figure out where I slipped up.
I questioned what my teammate had done better than me.
Reagan had placed first. I glanced over at her. Fucking Reagan had gotten first place by a fraction so small it could only have been due to an extremely small wobble, or slightly bent legs. Hell, my bra strap could have shown, and not knowing what it was, was eating away at me. Surprisingly, Reagan hadn't been smug about it. I think she knew in the back of her mind she wasn't far from dropping to second place, and that rocked her.
Or, I was finally just as good as she was…and she couldn't handle it.
I smiled to myself, letting the frustration roll off my shoulders. This meet was a lesson learned.
Goals were never easy. Practice. It was all about how much effort I put into practice, how I learned from my mistakes.
