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"You two are like the husbands I never wanted—brooding and overbearing. I'm done with this conversation."
&nbs
p; * * *
After an exhausting day at the gym, I was finally home and showered. My stomach rumbled, but I didn't feel like eating because my headache was so intense that it made me nauseous. I'd give anything to go to bed, but I had a few things I needed to do first, like catch up on school work and clean out my gym bag. Once I completed my school work, I found my duffle bag and began cleaning it out. I hadn't done this in weeks and desperately needed too since it was becoming full and difficult to find anything. Smashed protein bars I never ate, and multiple bottles of Motrin and opened coconut water that I never finished lined the bottom of my bag. I threw it all out save for the Motrin. Extra clean leos covered in chalk, and hair ties and tampons were scattered everywhere when I came across the notebook I shared with Kova buried under everything.
I'd completely forgotten it was in there.
Taking it out of my bag, I sat on my couch and stared at the front of it. Between Kova and Hayden today, my emotions were flying wild. I was already stressed about gymnastics in general. I didn't appreciate them bombarding me about my health on top of it. I was fine, just overworked. A little B12 was nothing to phone home about.
My fingers slid down the front of the hardcover. Flipping it open to the newest entry, my brows pulled together wondering when he had time to sneak this in.
Please. I am worried about you. Talk to me. You did not act like yourself today. What can I do to help?
I ground my teeth together. There was nothing to talk about except my aching boobs and heavy period. I was a little hormonal at the moment, but Christ on a stick, was I not allowed to have an off day?
I HAVE MY PERIOD. GET OVER IT. IF YOU WANT TO HELP, GO GET ME SUPER-SIZED TAMPONS AND DARK CHOCOLATE. AND NOT THE CHEAP SHIT EITHER.
I slammed the notebook shut and threw it to the side with an irritable sigh. Standing up, I marched into my bathroom and took out the B12 shot. I shoved my shorts down, took a deep breath, and jabbed the needle into my hip…and cried.
I hit my fucking hip bone.
Chapter Forty-Eight
As long and as tiring as my practice days were, they flew by in a blur. I blinked my eyes and another competition was in sight.
Before we left, I had another round of the platelet rich plasma injected into my Achilles, though, I didn't mention it to Kova. I also gave myself an extra shot of vitamin B12 because my energy was low to the point I could hardly keep my eyes open at practice. I never thought the day would come where I would leave early, but I think Madeline saw how bad off I was. She didn't hesitate or give me a hard time when I asked to go home. She just said she'd see me tomorrow.
I crashed the moment my face hit my bed. I slept for a solid thirteen hours straight and woke up completely disoriented and in the same position I'd fallen asleep in. I did some reading online and found that my iron levels could be down, so I ran to the pharmacy and picked up a bottle of iron. I took two then, and another two later in the night. I figured it couldn't hurt.
I wondered if Kova would've let me leave early the way Madeline had. I missed half a practice plus tutoring and then another half the following day. But he wasn't there, and he wasn't going to be at the meet, so I didn't see the need to tell him. Madeline had just as much authority as Kova.
Kova hadn't been at practice all week, which I found extremely strange. Madeline was tightlipped and all she told us was that he was home and extremely ill. I didn't inquire too much because that would raise suspicion, and neither did any of my teammates, but I found it difficult to believe Kova would miss practice if he was sick.
With Kova absent from this meet, I felt naked and empty. Like my other half was missing. We'd been glued at the hip since I came to World Cup, so not having him with me was foreign.
Codependency and all that jazz was a real thing. I missed the arrogant Russian and his encouraging words of wisdom. I needed him with me.
I glanced down and my eyes caught the fading yellow circle on my leg as I slipped on my wrist guards. Injecting the B12 into my hip had been more painful than I expected, especially the following days when I worked bars and my grip slipped, causing me to slam my hips down. The pain took my breath away. The injection site on my hip was still tender, but it hid the bruising well, so I forced myself to grin and bear it.
This meet was a little bigger and on podium again. I had more competition this time around, but nothing I couldn't handle.
"Ready to roll?" Madeline asked. I nodded with a straight face and she waved me toward her. I pushed any pain my body was going through out of my mind. I relied on Madeline a lot and I think she noticed it because she kept checking on me. I stuck to her side as much as I could and absorbed every little thing she said.
I'd been to hundreds of meets since I started gymnastics over ten years ago, and every time I got butterflies in my stomach. Every time my nerves went haywire and it put me on edge. I shook it out, but the truth was I loved the adrenaline rush because I loved to perform.
"Remember, what we discussed. You've got the handspring and block down pat, just drive those heels and stay tight. Chin down and crank it hard." I nodded again and remained tight-lipped. She patted my shoulder. "Show them who owns the vault."
I smiled. Vault was my specialty, but one of my biggest fears was that I would trip while I was running.
Chalking up, I eyed the vault, visualizing my skill. When the judges gave me the okay to go, I only had a few seconds to salute them then step behind the white line. From the corner of my eye, I could see Madeline nearby, hands on hips, ready to study every detail when I took off running.
Within seconds, my feet punched the springboard and I was flying in the air, executing my skill, one that put me ahead of the other competitor's due to the difficulty of it. I stayed as tight as I could, legs together and straight, as I quickly thought about my coach's suggestions. Just like me, judges had one chance to take it all in. There were no instant replays in gymnastics like other sports. Judging is done in real time and it happens real fast.
When I landed, I knew. I knew I stuck my dismount. Not because I didn't move my feet, or take a step, but because my form was perfect in flight along with my dismount. I could feel it in my heart that there was no possible way it could have been any better. A stuck landing in gymnastics was monumental and always exciting because it was so challenging to achieve due to the complexity of the skill—and physics.
My teammates, my coach, the crowd, they all cheered and clapped. A massive smile shaped my face as I saluted three times before I leaped down the steps to greet Madeline.
