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I knew we'd never be best friends, but I now viewed Reagan in a different light. She had to grow a thick skin to stay afloat so she wouldn't sink and drown. I knew that feeling. It didn't excuse her being a bitch, but at the same time I understood why she was the way she was.
* * *
Midway through floor practice, I couldn't hide the throbbing in my ankle anymore. It was a low and dull heat, tingling with little sparks, but enough for me to suck in a quiet breath through my teeth at the end of a tumbling pass and limp back to the end of the line.
"Go get your tape, Adrianna," Kova ordered.
I turned around to respond but did a double take. There was a pinkish knot at the top of his forehead with a slight indentation where the corner of my notebook must've hit him. I hadn't noticed it when we’d come back in from running, but now that it'd been a few hours, I saw it as clear as day. He was going to have a bruise from it.
I pursed my lips together and fought a smile. Victory.
"Adrianna." His voice was firm this time. I looked at him and his eyes dropped to my feet. "Get your tape." I stared at him for a few seconds then subtly nodded. "And no Motrin," he shouted when I walked away.
I mumbled under my breath and ignored him. I applied the same mentality to him as he did to me—what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
Quickly, I reached for the side pocket of my bag and popped two little orange pills, then I reached above to the shelf and grabbed my coconut water. Swallowing, I recapped the container and then dug through my duffle bag for my tape when my hand caught the corner of something.
The notebook.
Again.
I was going to murder him.
Irritation filled my veins. He must've snuck it in while we ran laps. I had a fierce urge to open it and see what Kova wrote, but I knew if I did it would consume me. Enrage me.
Oh, who was I kidding? There was no way I could go all day and not read it. Flipping it open, I noticed there were two new entries. I went to the second to last one first.
I am eternally sorry. I know you do not want to speak to me, but you need to know this was not what I wanted.
For a split second I felt bad for throwing the notebook at him, until I remembered that he breathes lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. It was all that I processed. He was trying to fix his fuck-up and feed me lies he thought I'd eat up. Who did he think he was? Did he think I’d be so easy and fall for his bullshit again? Arrogant Russian.
I flipped the page to the next entry.
If gymnastics does not work out, you should look into shot put.
Shot put? What the hell was shot put? Probably some Russian game no one's heard of.
I shut the book with a grimace and threw it back into my locker. I slammed the door and made sure it was locked, then walked back into the gym with an icy expression on my face.
I sat down on the blue carpeted floor and brought my knee up. The tape was precut, so I tore off three pieces as Kova came over and kneeled in front of me. The jerk smelled delicious but I refused to look at him. I handed him the tape and leaned back, giving him my foot while I watched as my teammates practiced on floor.
Kova had one hand on my heel as he flexed my foot and pointed my toes with his other hand.
"Any pain?" he asked.
"Nope."
His hand slid up my calf and gently squeezed the sore muscle. "What about here?"
"Nope."
He squeezed a little harder. "Now?"
"Feels great." I bit out, still not looking at him.
Then, he went for my Achilles. Literally. Kova pinched the back of my injured ankle, not hard enough to hurt me, but enough to garner a reaction. My nostrils flared, and I ground my back teeth together.
"How is this?"
