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I chuckled. "Really? That fast?"
"Yeah, I was so torn. I’m not ready to put gymnastics behind me, but I didn't want to continue training like I do now and try to go to school, but then I wasn't crazy about leaving Florida either. I've been all over the place. I want both, but I feel like this is a good choice. And who knows, maybe I'll end up loving Michigan and want to stay."
"I thought you hated cold weather."
"Hey, anything is possible." He laughed.
"I'm glad I could help. But this means I only have so much time left with you, doesn’t it?"
"Yeah, unfortunately it does. I have until early summer, I think, before I have to go."
Hayden pulled out his cell phone and sent off a series of texts. I didn't bother asking to who but I figured it was to Holly and his parents. Summer wasn't too far off and my schedule was already mapped out for the most part. One way or another, I'd make plans to spend time with him.
"Thanks, Aid."
"For what?" I said, his comment pulling me away from my thoughts.
"For helping me decide. For being a good friend. For being you."
My smile faltered. Our eyes met. "I haven't always been a good friend."
"Neither have I. We're human, Adrianna. We all make mistakes." We chuckled together and Hayden asked for the check.
"A pass. I've gotten a lifetime of passes from you."
Hayden finished off his pizza and paid the check. Once I was home and about to fall asleep, I laid in bed feeling a little lighter and a bit relieved. Hayden had appeared while I'd been trying to avoid him, but he was exactly what I needed and I hadn't realized it until now. He was a friend who never asked for anything in return. Tonight he was just a friend who wanted to talk about his future. I was helping him, but he had no idea that he was helping me out too.
* * *
There are over six hundred muscles in the human body. I would bet my future in gymnastics that I’d used every one of them this past week.
Every. Single. Muscle. Seven days a week, sixteen hours a day.
I was borderline crippled. My limbs were numb and I ached in parts of my body I didn't even know were possible to hurt. My lower back was on fire and my Achilles was killing me. I could barely put my hair into a ponytail and just breathing was a strenuous task. I wondered how long it would take to get over the soreness and worried it would be longer than usual. But the worst part? The worst part was the emotional state I was left in.
I didn't even know where to begin, but I wanted to cry for what I had just endured.
I’d gone to Texas with a solid mind and body. I'd looked forward to the training camp, eager, full of zest and persevering enthusiasm to learn from the absolute best in the sport.
I came back utterly broken and fearing the next camp. I almost didn't want to go. My body was in shambles, and my mind felt like an egg had been cracked open and over beat.
A full week of some of the most dangerous training I'd ever experienced for the ultimate goal of Olympic glory. It truly was survival of the fittest, and three days into it I’d started questioning whether it was worth it.
Konstantin Kournakova had nothing on those coaches. Nothing. His training was child's play compared to what I went through. Fucking child's play.
And I couldn't even have Motrin.
Cue the violins.
I was beyond thankful Kova had offered to drive me to and from the airport, because there wasn't a chance in hell I could have driven myself home. Yeah, I wasn't so keen when he’d first brought it up. I thought he was full of shit when he said the camps are quite arduous and I wouldn't be in tip-top shape afterward. At the time I couldn’t imagine the training being any more rigorous than what I'd already done. Boy, was I wrong. So. Fucking. Wrong. I could hardly stand in an upright position without wanting to cry. The moment the plane touched down in Florida, it was like my body said “you're free” and released a traumatized breath. I didn't need to hide how I felt anymore. I didn't need to wear a mask. I didn't care who saw how I really felt. Everything gushed from me like I'd been holding my breath the entire week I’d been gone. Instantly, I felt like I had aged fifty years. I was so exhausted.
Scouring the crowd, I wearily searched for a familiar pair of green eyes over the sea of heads. I needed a week's worth of sleep and an IV pumping me full of caffeine, painkillers, and vitamin B to bring me back to life, and I needed it all right this second. Not to recover, but because I had less than two days until I was back in the gym.
No rest for the wicked.
And as grateful as I was for Kova picking me up, I was reluctant for him to see how fragile I was. I didn't want him to see me weak and that I was ready to collapse at any given second. I didn't want him to see that someone else had the power to make me suffer more than he could. I didn’t want him to see me broken and limping, and on the verge of losing my mind.
The truth was, I didn’t want him to doubt me. That's what scared me more than anything.
