by Lucia Franco
“Yes, more acute,” Madeline responded. Acute sounded better than deeper. Kova and his stupid Russian accent.
Gripping my arm lightly, he guided me to the board. When he placed a flat hand to my stomach and one to my back, I tensed. His eyes narrowed at me knowingly, telling me to get my shit together.
He cleared his throat. “You need to use your core for what you are doing. Chest back.” He patted my stomach, and continued. “We may need to focus on building more muscle here to help you carry though. Prepare for a cartwheel.”
Using his hand on my lower back, he leaned me over so I was head first toward the board and my back leg was up.
“You want your hurdle long and low, but your chest and arms up tall. Push off your back leg hard.” He tapped my leg, as if I didn’t know which leg he meant. “It is quick and fast and it takes time to learn, but this is where you start, so when you rebound off the board, you will have the power you need to go back and off the table for a strong block. From there, you know what to do.” He paused and then asked, “Does this make sense to you?”
“Yes.”
“Good, now do it, but just do a layout.” A layout was no problem. No twisting, just straight as a board, stretched out body, flipping back once.
I walked and stood behind the chalk line, mentally picturing myself doing it correctly. Looking at Kova, he gave me a small nod. Leaning forward, I lifted my knee and took a few of the longer running steps and then went full force and ran as fast as possible. There was that burning again in my calf that seemed to make an appearance when I ran. When it came time for my round-off, I got low, knees to chest like he said, and felt my pelvic muscles tighten. Kova was right. I could tell I was going to need more muscle there from the strain inside.
He was also right about the exploding power I’d have if I got lower. I eyed the foam pit for my landing and saw how much extra height I had.
I came up, wide eyed and looked at him. “I wasn’t ready for that kind of power!” I yelled enthusiastically.
He nodded, tight lipped and turned to Reagan and Madeline. “Would it be okay if we swapped gymnasts for a bit? I have a few things I want to work with her on.”
“Of course. Come, Reagan.”
Reagan scowled. I picked my wedgie and asked, “Where’re they going?”
“We switched.”
My stomach churned, excitement falling from my face. “Oh, okay.”
We stared at each other for a moment, my cheeks beginning to heat. Clearing his throat, Kova rubbed his jaw and said, “Instead of running slower in the beginning, I think you need to just take off at your normal speed. I do not think slowing down will help you. Let us get your round-off right and then we will work on squaring your shoulders and reaching for height.”
I nodded. “I wasn’t crazy about slowing in the beginning either, but I did it anyway.”
“If you do not think it will work, you can always speak up.”
I gave him a droll stare. “Really? You once told me not to question you.” When he didn’t respond to my dig, I said, “I wanted to try it at least, but I didn’t like the feel.”
“What is your starting point?”
“I’m at seventy-five feet.”
Coach contemplated for a minute. “Try starting at seventy-nine feet. You need as much momentum as you can get. And just do the double again.”
I nodded and walked to the seventy-nine feet mark. I did exactly what he said to do, and honestly, I couldn’t tell if I did it right or not.
“Again,” he said.
I did a handful more vaults before he finally said, “I see things I want to do to you—” Coach stopped himself when my eyebrows nearly reached my hairline. “What I meant was...” he trailed off anxiously. His voice cracked and he used his hands to talk. “I think I should be working with you more on this, not just Madeline. There are different techniques you would benefit from.” He exhaled with an exhausted sigh, broken almost, and it made me feel bad. “Let us work on this vault and do some layout timers.”
Coach took me to the other side of the gym where there were huge, thick mats stacked behind a vault. They towered high, just roughly under ten feet and they helped with gaining height. It’s where layout timers came into play. It was a back flip, pin straight body and legs, and instead of landing on my feet, I’d land on my back, rotating with a hollow chest.
“Okay. I am going to spot you and give you a little pop. Just land on your back. Yes?”
“Yes.”
I wasn’t sure if I loved the idea Kova was ignoring our little indiscretion or not. I guess it was a good thing since I was here to train. But I couldn’t help but wonder what was going through his head.
I did my vault with Kova’s help and nearly panicked when my heart jumped from my chest and landed before I did. I had so much air my feet came up and I rotated into a back roll.
“That wasn’t a little pop. You nearly threw me in the air. I could’ve hurt myself.”
He gave me a blank stare. “See the height you got?” he retorted, his voice stern. He ignored my comment, because the truth was, I knew my coach wouldn’t let anything happen to me and he knew it too.
“That is what you need in flight. Do it again and keep your legs tighter. This vault, more than others, must have straight, tight legs and body.”
I was well aware how tight and straight my legs needed to be, not just in this vault, but in so many other skills in gym. Hearing it over and over was annoying. I wished he’d tell me something I didn’t know.
I did the vault, feeling Kova’s pop on my lower back. He wasn’t as hard this time and I felt the difference, I barely landed on my back.
“Feel the difference?”
“Surprisingly, yes.”
Kova paused, not expecting my response, then continued. “The key to the Amanar is height, drive, and power. That is where we start. We do this a thousand times if we have to, until I feel confident you can move on,” Kova said enthusiastically.
A thousand times, like he did with me on bars. At least I wouldn’t get rips on vault. But I could break an ankle if I landed wrong.
I vaulted again, ending with a layout timer. After at least an hour or so, I was worn out and in dire need of food. My calf throbbed fiercely, but there was no way I would speak up. Kova’s help and push really made a difference, so I stored the pain away and focused on the conditioning.
Walking back over to the pit, he placed thick practice mats over the foam squares to practice my landing since I wasn’t ready to land on the floor yet.
Standing at the end of the runway line, I looked for Coach.
“Do your double without my help. Let me see where you are at.”
After I landed my vault, I looked at him. He wasn’t pleased.
“Stronger hurdle. Power, we need power, Adrianna,” he ordered, clapping his hands. Thing was, the bottom half of my leg was on fire.
I nodded and vaulted again with his help. Over the next hour, all I heard was:
“Adrianna, squeeze those legs and make them straight as a damn board. Do you want to tear your ACL?”
“Adrianna. Tighter body.”
“Adrianna,” he said slowly, with irritation. “Set higher. Do you really think you can pull a two and a half like that?”
“Adrianna, push harder!”
“Do you really want this?”
“Block, Adrianna!” He groaned. “Get that set higher.”
“You got it...crank it tighter now!”
“Faster, higher, stronger. That is no good!”
“You are under rotating, that is why you are hopping back!”
Then he started in Russian. At that point, my body was sore and I’d reached the point of exhaustion. I had another hour or so before I had to break for class. And for the first time in my gymnastics career, I couldn’t wait to be done with gym and for tutoring to start.
“You are a power tumbler, but we need more muscle, so for the next thirty minutes we will condition and
then cool down. Okay? We need to do this after every workout.”
Ugh. I groaned loudly, my head falling back. Every gymnast hated conditioning with a passion, but we also knew not to skimp on it. We’d only be holding ourselves back if we did.
Kova took me to a side of the gym meant only for stretching and weight training. We didn’t lift weights like body builders, but we did use them for specific muscle building drills where we needed to target.
“Okay, get on your back and lie flat. Arms by your ears.”
No problem.
Coach picked up one twenty pound dumbbell and walked over to me. Getting on his knees, he sat behind my head and instructed me to open my hands, placing the heavy weight in my palms. He was so close I could smell his citrusy, cinnamon scent, not that powdery chalk smell of the gym.
“You are going to keep your arms by your ears. Lift your legs and arms at the same time and come together, but only half way. This is going to build muscle here.” Kova placed a flat hand to my pelvic region and my stupid body heated all over from it. I looked around to see if anyone could see us. Tingles broke out across my skin. His fingers were like a sparkler on the Fourth of July, and I wondered if Katja had the same reaction to him.
“Now, slowly lift,” he said, his hand still on me.
I lifted, but too fast. “You are not in a race to finish, Adrianna. Take it slow.”
Be still my heart. I loved how my name rolled off his tongue.
Kova continued to stare at my stomach like he was unable to make eye contact with me. “Lift slower,” was all he said impassively.
“Tighten,” he ordered when I began lifting slower, hollowing my body into a small boat look. He pressed his fingers into my stomach feeling for muscle. “This is what I want to feel. Right here...tighter.” He nodded to himself in satisfaction. His hand burned my stomach.
I cleared my throat and our eyes locked. “Seriously? You couldn’t think of any other word to use?”
The corner of his mouth lifted and his emerald eyes gleamed. I dropped to the floor. “English is not my first language. Forgive me.”
I lifted again and this time he placed a hand under my calves and the other hand under my arms. I was shaking. Lifting a twenty pound dumbbell wasn’t really all that heavy, but in the position I was in, and how I was doing it, wasn’t so easy. Kova helped guide me slowly up and then down so many times my muscles were on fire.
“Remember to breathe.”
After another set, my arms were trembling.
“Okay. Let us take a break,” he reached for my arm and began massaging the muscle, shaking it out. His knuckles brushed against my ribs. His fingers kneaded the tissue deep and the sublime feeling took over.
With Kova still seated next to me, I was able to get a good look. I watched him, where his eyes were, the tick working in his jaw. I wanted so badly to ask about our kiss that night in the gym, and what it meant.
“Kova,” I whispered just for him. I tried to get his attention, but he wouldn’t look my way.
“Not now, Adrianna.”
“When?” He continued to ignore me so I said, “I’m not going to tell anyone.”
He shook his head incredulously. “There is more to it than that.”
“Please, look at me.” When he finally did, I said, “I swear.”
He shook his head in disbelief again, and murmured, “Do you understand the rules I broke? The fact that I could go to jail?”
“You wouldn’t go to jail, I looked it up. We only kissed,” I whispered, and looked around. “We didn’t do anything else. It was just a kiss.”
He stared at me in horror. “You do not see the problem because you are too young.” Then he stood, and by the look in his eyes, I instantly knew he regretted what happened.
“Grab my ankles and give me yours.”
I looked at him, perplexed.
“Put your hands around my ankles,” Kova said slowly, like I was hard of hearing. “And bring your legs up.”
Well, well, well. From this view, there was a lot to see, meaning Kova’s bulge. The outline from this angle made me picture what was inside his shorts and if he was wearing boxers or not. I could tell he wasn’t fully erect, yet still pretty large. At least I assumed he wasn’t erect and I knew he felt big, but I hadn’t actually seen it. My grip tightened around his ankles as I thought about how he stroked my pussy with it, a river of sensations streamed through my center.
“I am going to push your legs down, but you are not to touch the floor,” Coach said, breaking my forbidden thoughts. “I will push you side to side and straight out, but never let your legs hit the floor.”
“Got it.”
Kova threw my legs out and my back bent in desperation to keep my feet from touching the carpet. I gripped his ankles tighter, holding on in order to bring my legs back up.
“Snap them up,” he ordered. “Faster. I am taking time out just for you here.”
“I didn’t ask you to help me,” I gritted out.
“Adrianna, I am here to make sure each gymnast reaches their maximum potential, so if that means taking over for another coach, I do it. It is nothing personal.”
Nothing personal.
Screw him. I didn’t ask him for this. I could’ve stuck with Madeline but he wanted to step in.
When he pushed my legs to the side, my hips swiveled and I snapped them back, struggling a bit. It was harder than it sounded and my stomach flexed every time. And every time, I looked at his bulge and watched it bounce.
I was going to hell.
My stomach burned, like fire ants coating my flesh. My legs were beginning to bend as I pulled them up. I wanted so bad to ask for a break, but I knew better.
“I am tired of telling you to keep those legs together and locked straight.” He threw my legs down so angrily and fast I struggled to bring them back up. But they didn’t touch the ground and I was proud of myself for that. My nails dug into his flesh, I let out a gush of air when I pulled them up. He repeated the motion.
“It will only make me do this to you longer.”
In that moment, I decided I was going to study witchcraft and put a spell on him for this kind of torture.
And have him use correct English words, and some fucking contractions.
Every time he pushed my legs down, I took a deep breath and held it, using it to throw my legs back to him. Sweat dripped down the sides of my temples, and I was pretty sure I was going to pop a blood vessel in my eye.
Who knew how much time had passed when I reached the point where I couldn’t take anymore. My inner thighs trembled, they shook so hard that in conjunction with my burning stomach, I was queasy. He must have sensed it when he said, “One last time.” And when he threw my legs again, I let them drop to the floor with a thud. One leg fell out to the side, the other coming up in an effort to bend, but I didn’t have the strength to hold it up, so they both fell open. The position wasn’t very ladylike, but I was too worn the hell out to care.
Panting heavily, I felt like I just ran a marathon. “I think I’m dying.”
“Do not be so dramatic.”
My grip loosened and my elbows flopped to the side. “I’m not. That was hard.” But he ignored my comment and stood above me, his gaze between my opened legs.
I should’ve closed them, it would’ve been the logical thing to do, but I was rooted in place. Partly due to the fact that I just couldn’t move, but I also liked the way his eyes licked across my body. His heady stare caused a throb between the crux of my thighs, and my pulse quickened.
God. What was wrong with me? I should’ve been repulsed. Hell, maybe I should’ve gotten up and walked away. Maybe I needed to speak to a therapist about my Kova addiction.
Actually, scratch that.
Opening up about having a crush on my much older coach could seriously backfire on me. Keeping my mouth shut was the only plan of action I had.
Mustering the strength, I brought my legs together slowly, adding pressure to my
swollen center with my thighs. Coach cleared his throat and reached out his hand to help me up.
“I will see you later for floor.”
“Coach?”
“Go.”
“No, I feel like we should talk.”
Stepping toward me, his eyes quickly scanned the gym. “There is nothing to talk about. It was a giant lapse in judgment. It should have never fucking happened,” he sneered. “And now I have to live with the fact I took advantage of a minor, my gymnast no less. I am sick over it, I cannot sleep.”
I reared back, feeling only a small dose of pity. “You didn’t take advantage of me.”
“It is even worse you think that way,” he gritted out under his breath. “You should have been revolted with what I said and did.”
“I’m not, I wasn’t. I liked it, everything, and I didn’t want it to stop. You felt better than when—”
“Adrianna,” he said sharply, cutting me off. Running a hand through his hair, his eyes traveled to my chest and lingered for a moment. “I do not have anything else to say to you. I am a man, you are a...teenager,” he said with disgust, making me feel two inches tall. “Had Katja seen us, we could have lost everything. I am not willing to risk that for anything or anyone, no matter what.”
I swallowed back the empathy I was suddenly feeling. His eyes softened, shame filling them. “You have worked too hard to just throw it away, and so have I. Keep your hands to yourself and I will do the same.”
Then he turned and walked away, gutting me.
Two hours of advanced chem, plus ten hours of gym time, and I was ready to crash.
It didn’t matter that I turned another year older today, it felt like any other day to me. Avery was out of the country. She hadn’t been able to visit me for my birthday like she wanted. Her parents scheduled a family vacation to Spain and dropped it on her and her brothers last minute, but she promised she’d come and see me when she got back. My dad was away on business, Xavier was off with his friends doing God knows what, and other than a text from my mom, I hadn’t heard a single word from my family. The gym was the gym, same as any other day.
I’d learned to turn off emotions when the time called for it, so being alone on my birthday didn’t affect me.
