by Lucia Franco
I sank into my seat, my body diffusing at the already fragile seams. Bone-jarring sounds passed through my lips, ones I'd never heard myself make before. Nothing made sense. My chest hurt, tight with self-pity, and my fingers circled the leather of the steering wheel. If the light were on, the blood beneath the skin of my knuckles would show just how much I was restraining.
I had no one else to hold me. And I needed something to hold on to. I was too unsteady.
I wasn't sure how much more of this I could take. I didn't need this, but I couldn't get past the thought of Kova having sex with Katja while I was in the same building, or the things he'd said to her. Before this marriage, I'd felt closer to him than ever before and I’d thought he felt that way with me too, but maybe it was all an illusion that I wanted to see. Maybe that's what he wanted. Maybe I was just a pawn in his game. His callous words hurt, and I was sure I'd never forget them, but it was the bite and caress of his tongue that belted me harder than I could handle. Like a damn knife to my throat. He wanted to hurt me, but he was sorry too. I didn't get it and for some asinine reason, I didn't think he did either. I showed him what I was made of at the cost of my dignity today. A terrible combination that initiated a deeper strive in me.
Tomorrow I'd walk in with my head held high. I'd foolishly let down my guard. I had too much to lose, and I refused to allow some coach to take it from me.
But tonight, tonight I'd cry myself to sleep. Come two days, I was boarding a plane for another competition.
* * *
"Adrianna?"
Coughing a few times, I glanced over my shoulder at Kova, who stood next to Madeline without so much of an ounce of emotion on either of their faces. I had my hand on the glass door about to walk out of World Cup when my name was called.
"Yes?"
"We would like to speak with you privately before you leave, if you have a moment."
"Of course."
It wasn't like I could say no, even though I was about to collapse from fatigue any second. The last two weeks were some of the most chaotic and exhausting weeks of my life. Between a meet last week, another one that had just passed, two-a-day practices in between, I was running on only four to five hours of sleep a night.
Kova tipped his head toward the hall. "In my office. It should not take long."
I shot a fleeting glance at Madeline, but her face was stoic. I hoped they made this quick.
Following close behind, I tried to wipe off some of the chalk from my thighs and arms, as if I needed to clean up for some stupid reason. I tightened my ponytail and pushed back the flyaways from my face, wracking my brain trying to figure out why both coaches would want to speak with me, and why they looked so serious. Practices had been going really well and I hadn't screwed up.
Kova held onto the doorknob as I walked past him to enter his office. I shook my fingers out, hoping to release the onset of nerves. I felt like I was in school and caught doing something I shouldn't have been and now I was in trouble.
Madeline sat in one of the empty seats and crossed her legs while I took the one next to her. I placed my bag by my chair and waited. Kova strode around his large desk that was covered in files and papers and sat down. He leaned forward, lacing his fingers together. My eyes caught the flash of metal from his wedding band. Fucking platinum. Instead of looking away like I had in the past, I forced myself to look at it as a reminder of what he’d done. He caught my gaze but didn't follow it.
"Madeline…" Kova gestured for her to speak.
Madeline turned toward me. "Coach Kova and I have had an in-depth conversation about your progress, the meets you have coming up that we feel are best for you, along with various opportunities that may present themselves based on your performances. Are you aware the National Qualifier meet is in a few weeks? The U.S. Classic?"
"Yes."
"After your scores this past weekend, we think you have a strong chance of making the national team. If you do, the meets you attend will change and so will your practice schedule, meaning we'd add in various camps for you to attend and so forth." I glanced at Kova with wide eyes. "You're aware that only twelve will make the national team, right?"
I nodded slowly and said, "And from that twelve, only four would make the Olympic team."
"If you continue to compete the way you have been…" Madeline left her statement open. A brow raised, she whistled through a grin. "Kova's been telling me that you're ready for more for quite some time now. I was a little skeptical, considering how much you had to train to reach this point. So few can take on what you have. Then your injury happened, and I worried that your gymnastics career was in jeopardy. An Achilles could snap at any minute." She paused, and looked into my eyes with amazement. "But you proved yourself, your strength, and your energy. I never should have doubted Kova."
"I am never wrong, Madeline." Kova joked, and they both laughed. I didn't.
"I see great things in your future," Madeline said.
This time I smiled. I knew from experience that before something great happened, everything tended to fall apart. And I had to wonder if I was already past the bad part and if this was my moment.
"You have another meet this weekend," Kova said. He had circles under his eyes and his face looked a little drawn. He looked as tired as I felt. "In between, for the next few weeks until the qualifier, you will do nothing but practice. From morning to night until the day before we leave, you will work your ass off. Kind of like a cram session before a test. I will call your father and have him put your tutoring on hold, that way you will have nothing to worry about. You will forget everything except the meet and the routines. That will have your undivided focus. Nothing else. Do not cloud your mind with things that can go wrong. You must remain focused on everything that will go right. Because it will. You will practice like you have never won a damn thing in your life and you will perform your heart out."
I wasn't an idiot. The look in his eyes and the way he twisted his thick wedding band said everything it needed to. Kova was the master at being discreet. The subtlety of his actions and the pointed stare was loud and clear—he needed me to forget about his marriage. And since he knew I wasn't going to speak to him privately outside of this room, he had to get it all out here while he could. He needed me to let it go, so I could focus on this new goal.
What he didn't know was that I'd already been working on that.
I sighed inwardly but kept a straight face. If it were only that easy. Deep down, I was still recovering from the head-on collision his secret nuptials caused me. It was playing with my mind. One minute I was as empty as a broken shell, the next minute I felt enraged and so full of emotion that I was ready to combust like fireworks on the fourth of July. Memories of our past conversations flipped through my head, along with the moments we'd shared outside these walls. There was nothing more I wanted than to forget them all and start over. Instead, I had to learn to deal with it the best I could, and by doing that, I shut down.
I studied him. I knew Kova. There wasn't a chance he would've suggested this, let alone been on board if he thought for a split second I didn't have what it took. That wasn't Kova's style. He took risks, yes, but his risks were measured and calculated. Planned. Well-thought-out and guaranteed success.
"We believe in you," Madeline said, her tone motherly. I looked at her and smiled. "We know you can do it. And after what you said to me at the meet a few weeks ago, I knew it too."
Tilting my head to the side, I asked, "What did I say?"
"You said that you remembered who you were, what you wanted, and it changed the game. For your age, that's powerful and inspiring."
Kova was eyeing me. His stare was heavy, willing me to look at him but I didn't pay him any attention. I didn't remember saying that, but I knew it's what I’d been feeling lately, so I probably did.
He was nervously tapping the tip of his pen on the desk, something I found odd for him to do. Steadying my breathing, I decided to go a different route and let him k
now I was still upset for what he’d done with Katja in this office and that I'd heard everything.
"There was a moment where I was slipping. I was letting go and I was unconsciously putting gymnastics second. This sport means everything to me. I built my life on it. What I do here is not just for me, but all of us. I got where I am because of both of you and the dedication you guys put in too. Sometimes I get stuck on one speed with one goal in mind, and I need to slow down. Thankfully a friend’s been helping me do just that. Gymnastics is my most beloved, and this friend holds a dear place in my heart for reminding me of that. I owe them everything.”
Kova was anything but stupid.
He stopped tapping his pen and I could feel him tense even though he was sitting across from me. Victory unfurled inside my stomach and I allowed the feeling to flow through me. It felt good. What I said was true, but I made sure to use the words he had said to his wife and he knew it.
“It’s actually very common to have moments where you question everything and forget why you’re here. Whoever this friend is, you’re lucky,” Madeline said. “Don’t let them go.”
My cheeks bloomed with heat and I smiled. “Thank you,” was all I could muster. I was stuck in between emotion and numbness again when I turned to look at Kova and released my feelings for just a second.
I gave him the tiniest smirk. It was enough. He caught it loud and clear.
I exhaled a loud breath and feigned a smile from ear to ear for both of them this time. I needed to show them I was ecstatic on the outside and not dying on the inside like I was. Positivity brought optimism that carried confidence and self-assurance on its back. It was the key to victory, and that’s what Madeline and Kova had both given me. I had to give it back, even if it was a fake one.
Silence stretched between us. When it became slightly uncomfortable, I reached down and grabbed my bag and stood up. “So… I guess I’ll see you guys tomorrow?”
“Yes. I have a few things to discuss with Madeline first, then I will call your father. Expect two-a-days until Thursday. Friday we fly out for comp, then it is back to the grind.”
I nodded. I could do it.
“Try and get some good rest tonight,” Madeline said, her gaze studying my face. “Your eyes are a little swollen and it looks like you have a rash on your face. Have you eaten something new? Allergic to anything maybe?”
I thought about it for a moment. I’d barely eaten lately but that was because my back pain made me so nauseous I couldn’t even stomach thinking about food.
“No, not that I know of.”
Her head bobbed slowly up and down as she processed what I said, still taking in my face. “Get some rest tonight. These next few weeks are going to get chaotic.”
“Goodnight,” I said quietly.
Stepping out of Kova’s office, I mechanically made my way to my truck and drove home. My condo was cold and lonely. Typically, I preferred the solitude, but lately it was eating away at me. When I was alone, I reflected. I overthought everything and then I regretted. I wanted to call Avery and tell her the good news, but I wasn’t ready to talk to her yet. It was selfish of me, I knew that, but I needed to preserve what little of myself I had left. I could call Hayden. He’d come running, but I wasn’t up for his company.
Everything I did was wrong except when it came to gymnastics.
Lighting a few scented candles, I ate dinner, as much as my stomach could handle, then took a shower and cried in a ball on the tile, counting the strands of hair and wondering how there could be so many on the floor.
* * *
The week passed through hazy eyes. I didn’t know where it began or where it ended, and now we were landing in a new city.
I hadn’t spoken to anyone save for my dad for a few short minutes so he could tell me he wouldn’t be at this meet, but he’d make it to the next one. That was two meets he’d miss in a row. All I’d done was practice from sun up until well after sun down. Not a minute was wasted. Push came to shove and I’d been ready. Heart and soul, body and mind. I blocked everything out, kept to myself, and trained like a beast. I was on autopilot.
“It’s going to be a hectic week,” Madeline said. Talk about an understatement.
I pushed myself so hard I was certain I made myself sick. I felt more worn down than ever before, so unhappy and so weary. I’d secretly taken more Motrin to try and alleviate some of the pain and I’d had more ice baths this past week than I’d had my whole time at World Cup. I knew I shouldn't have taken the medication, but I had to. I couldn't handle how awful my body felt. Deep tissue massages, sports tape, blading… Kova even had me roll on some stupid foam log he insisted would release lactic acid and help me recover quicker. I never complained, though. Not once. It was grueling and exhausting and overwhelming, but I wanted it and I loved every taxing minute, even though I was falling deeper and deeper into my depression.
Before we boarded the plane, I took some Benadryl and slept until we landed. My bones ached horribly, my whole body inflamed, and I felt as stiff as a ninety-year-old when I walked off the plane. Shortly after we arrived at the hotel, I unpacked then passed out. I'd been woken up for dinner but begged to sleep, and stayed asleep, until the next morning. I was so physically drained that I woke up in the same position I'd fallen asleep in.
In truth, I felt weak and it scared me.
"Are you okay?" Madeline asked, concern filling her voice. She'd come to the hotel room I shared with my teammates. We were getting ready to leave for the meet but they stepped out at her request so she could speak with me privately.
"Yes, why?"
"You seem out of it and we need your head in the game right now."
I yawned. "Just a little tired, but I'm okay."
The space between her eyes creased together and she pressed the back of her hand to my head. "You're warm."
I pulled away. "A fever won't hold me back. Don't worry," I said and slapped on a smile. "I thought I felt a little warm last night and took some cold medicine with a few Emergen-C packets."
"Are you wearing blush?"
"Yes, of course." My lips pursed together. "Why?"
"You just look a little more flushed than usual."
Now it was my turn for my brows to bunch tight. I glanced in the mirror and shrieked.
"Oh, my God." I laughed. "I didn't blend it in enough," I lied. I did look a little more flushed for some reason. Looking back at my coach, I said, "My mom got me new blush. It was my first time trying it out and I went a little too heavy." I grabbed my makeup bag and brushed on some foundation to help tone down my cheeks. "Better?" I asked.
She didn't seem sold but nodded anyway. "Did you take Emergen-C this morning?"
"No."
"Open up two and take them now." I did what she said and forced them down. "Good. That stuff works miracles and you should be good soon. When we get back, make sure you schedule an appointment with your doctor. Let's not mention this to Kova, though. He hasn't been himself lately."
"Good idea."
I refused to be concerned with what I could do to help him anymore, but also because it would look a little odd delving into my coach's life and asking Madeline for more information. Staying out of his personal life was key to preserving my sanity.
"Ready to roll? You got this?"
"Ready? Psshh. I was made for this," I replied and produced the biggest, fakest smile I could from ear to ear. Madeline laughed, her eyes twinkled, and I followed her out of my hotel room with one thought.
Okay. Two.
Sometimes pretending to be something I wasn't took more energy than what it took to be real.
My second thought was that I was going to release everything in me and dominate this meet. I wasn't lying when I said I was made for this. I was.
It was unfortunate how aware I was that I was slowly killing myself. An insidious circle of self-destruction that I couldn't stop because I was obsessed with gymnastics.
Okay. That was three thoughts.
&
nbsp; The next day I was on a plane headed back to Florida with four medals again. All gold.
The following Monday I woke with the fear that I wasn't sure how I would make it through the week in one piece. I was feeling so rundown and bone tired. The pressure and stress to qualify for the national team was already weighing heavily on me, but now I wanted to remain at the top of the sport like I had been, and that brought a new burden of anxiety.
It was startling how weak I felt. Almost like I was anemic. Maybe I had the flu and I didn’t know it. Pulling up to a red light, I called my doctor and made an appointment. Naturally they had to remind me they'd called numerous times and their messages went unanswered. I apologized, because they had been calling. I'd had too much on my mind and not enough time to spare, but after this past weekend, and waking up this morning, I knew something wasn't right. I could feel it. I was about to turn seventeen. I shouldn’t feel this ragged.
On the way to World Cup, I got stuck at the draw bridge. I took a long sip of my Emergen-C concoction—two green tea bags, two Emergen-C packets, and honey. I'd read online this nasty tasting drink was a miracle cure. While waiting for the boats to go through, I put my truck in park and pulled up the Internet on my cell phone and typed in my symptoms.
