by Lucia Franco
Heavy clapping reverberated throughout the arena. I looked around in confusion, then I spotted the head of the women's USA team, Elena Lavrov, walking onto the gym floor in her usual red, white, and blue sweats. My heart stopped and I automatically grabbed Kova's hand. He gave me a reassuring squeeze without looking and then released it.
Elena was an iconic figure, a legend in the gymnastics world, renowned for her ability in training and keen eye. Born in Romania but now a citizen of the United States, she was known for taking drastic measures to be the absolute best.
The flat-screen televisions overhead were now blank in preparation to list all of the national team members. The noise in the room died down. This was the moment we’d all been waiting for.
I placed my bag and water by my feet and took a deep breath, trying to steady my emotions. I used the back of my hand to wipe the little beads of sweat from my top lip, then I tightened my ponytail. This woman, who was all of five-foot-five, wielded so much power. She was the scissors who cut dreams in half, and the super glue that bonded them forever.
Taking the mic, Elena spoke with a heavy Romanian accent almost too thick to understand. I leaned forward as if it would help me hear her better.
"Today, we had a tremendous outcome with many fine and extremely talented gymnasts. Your dedication to the sport, and yourselves, shows no bounds. You all are the best of the best and should be very proud of your accomplishments." Elena paused, her eyes bouncing over the gymnasts. "For some of you, today marks the end of the season. Do not be discouraged. Never give up on what you believe in or what you dream of, because then you are giving up on yourself, and that would be a tragedy." She smiled and I felt it in my chest. "Take a moment and look around this room. Four of you will go on to represent the United States at the next Olympic Games."
Applause broke out, then quickly dissipated.
"Everyone wants to come out on top, but remember, at the Games, gymnastics is a team sport. If you are chosen today, you are chosen for what is best for the team and your country. Whether that be an All-Around competitor or a Specialist, or an alternate, either way, consider it an honor. Gymnastics is based on a system where you amass points for difficulty, then execution. We want the highest level of gymnasts inspiring each other to do more, to gain that top spot on the podium." Elena held up her index finger. "You must remember, this is not just about winning. We all want to win. This is about how much more you are willing to sacrifice for the sake of the team and yourself. How much you are willing to give up, to reign supreme as a whole. It is not about what you do, but how you do it. This is only the beginning, my girls."
The arena was in complete silence as she unfolded a piece of paper in her hands. Pandemonium was about to break out, both tears of joy, and tears of downright soul-crushing defeat.
Everything I had worked for depended on this moment. Everything.
* * *
"In no particular order, here are the members of the national team."
She announced two girls, and high-pitched screams broke out to the beat of her broken English. She read off two more names, then another, and another. Her deep accent caused her to mispronounce a few. When she got to number seven, and my name still hadn't been called, dread formed in the pit of my stomach.
Gymnastics was a merciless sport.
If my name wasn't called, I'd walk away stoically and figure out my next step.
I. Would. Not. Cry. I had to be strong.
Elena announced girls eight and nine, leaving only three spots left.
The tenth gymnast was named and everything around me faded to a blur. My heart plummeted to the floor, taking my confidence with it. Another name was called that wasn’t mine. The back of my eyes burned and my jaw trembled from intense emotions hitting me all at once. I thought I was going to faint when I got a small nudge in my side.
"Go! What are you waiting for?" Kova nudged me harder and yelled in my ear. I blinked, my brows drawn together and my gaze disoriented.
Kova shoved me forward and I almost cursed at him, but then he gave me the look. I straightened my shoulders and spotted Elena. She wore a huge grin on her face as she happily waved me forward. Tears immediately blurred my vision and chills broke out down my arms.
The pressure in my chest eased and I looked over my shoulder at Kova for guidance. He clapped and shouted my name, mouthing for me to go, to keep moving.
I looked back at Elena in complete and utter shock.
Elena had called my name. I was number eleven.
I couldn't control my emotions any longer and burst into tears. Gymnasts rubbed my shoulders and congratulated me through sobbing giggles as I walked past them. I observed my new teammates while I strode to the end of the line, each girl held the same reaction as me—blotchy faces, teary eyes, giant smiles stretched from ear to ear.
Oh. My. God.
My name had been called. I'd done it. I'd made the national team! I was one step closer to making the Olympic team.
My face fell into the palms of my calloused, chalky hands, and I bawled uncontrollably. My shoulders shook while I stood in line with the others. I’d made it. I’d thought this was the end of my career as a gymnast, that I hadn't been picked… But I’d made it.
"Here are the members of the United States National Women's Gymnastics Team," Elena said into the microphone, her voice rebounding off the walls of the arena. She waved her arm toward her new team. "Let us give a round of applause to those who made it, and to those who fought so diligently to be here. You all deserve to be rewarded for your hard work."
With the back of my hands, I wiped my eyes and looked up. I took a deep breath and exhaled. My heart broke for the girls who stood in front of me with tears of sorrow streaming down their cheeks. I knew what was going through their minds. They felt like failures, like their lives were over. They wondered if they would ever make it. Questioned what else they could've done to be standing on this side. They would torture themselves, questioning every moment and if it was worth it. Some would give up after this, and some would fight to come back. It was a vicious cycle.
"When I call your name, I would like you to step forward," Elena said. She called out a total of six names, mine being one of them.
Adrianna Rossi. Vault. Uneven bars. Floor. "Here are your specialists."
Chills wracked my body, then a smile tore across my face again. Even better than I'd hoped for.
Once we were released, I didn't have to look far to find Kova. I could feel his eyes on me, all over me, covering my body. I pivoted to face him, and without hesitation, I ran into his arms. Kova lifted me up and I buried my face in his neck as he wrapped his arms around my back and crushed me to him. I hugged him tightly, drew him into me, breathing in the only scent that instantly comforted me. In this moment I couldn’t help but forget all the negative things we’d been through. He'd seen me at my worst, and I'd seen him at his worst. But this was something else entirely. A feeling that couldn’t be explained or understood, just a connection with my other half.
There were no words spoken. None were needed. All the sacrifices, the injuries, the hurtful words, the grueling hours, were worth this moment. To be in his arms, to make it this far with him, and be on the team, was worth everything.
"I knew you had it in you," he whispered. His lips brushed my ear. My heart fluttered against my chest and I wondered if he could feel it.
I swallowed hard. "I couldn't have done it without you."
"Yes, you could have. You had it in you all along. You just needed a push."
"From the right person," I finished for him. "I needed it from the right person."
Kova lowered me down. I slid against his body and my feet met the floor, but we didn't release each other. We stood close, embracing with my hands in the curve of his elbows. It may have seemed strange to be so intimate and touchy with each other out in the open, but other coaches and gymnasts were doing the same thing, some having to console their athletes. I looked at him with grati
tude and respect, and he acknowledged it with a small smile.
"Let us go find your father. I spotted him earlier."
I nodded. We didn't have to search long, being that my dad found us first. How he got onto the meet floor was beyond me because no parents were allowed, but I didn't question it. He strode toward us, grinning from ear to ear. He wore dark denim jeans and a white polo button-up shirt with a flashy colorful design on the fabric where the three buttons were left open. His casual attire was a stark contrast to the suits he usually donned.
"Adrianna!" he said with a proud smile, and then lifted me into his arms with a giant hug. He quickly released me and looked down. "I'm so proud of you. Congratulations."
"Thanks, Dad."
He was positively glowing and that made me so happy inside. Dad patted my shoulder. "You were incredible out there. I'm so glad I got to see you perform. I'll never forget it."
I beamed up at him.
"Frank," Kova said, putting his hand out. My dad greeted him.
"Konstantin, I can't thank you enough for getting my daughter one step closer to her dream."
"Ah, I am flattered, but it was not me. Your daughter had it in her all along. I just gave her the direction and means she needed to take it to the next step."
"What's next for her?"
Kova slipped his hands into his pockets and lifted his chin. "She will have camps she is required to attend, and international meets that will be added to her schedule. It is going to be a lot of stress to perform on demand and under pressure, but Adrianna has it in her. I need to meet with Elena, and then we can mull it over with dinner and drinks."
Dad agreed. "Whatever you need, let me know."
* * *
Kova wasn't exaggerating. My eyes widened as I peered down at my revised calendar in both hushed shock and eagerness. He’d devised a six-month itinerary for me that left my dad's forehead creased with apprehension. While I was impatient for it to begin, I could tell it was overwhelming for him. If I took a guess, he was probably wondering how I'd manage to do it all. My schedule would change drastically in the form of meets and camps. Seeing what I was about to take on caused a flutter in my heart. This was a challenge I was determined to win.
"I know I questioned this when my daughter first came to you, but I have to ask again because this is just…a lot." He picked up his copy and scanned over it for the tenth time. We sat at a table in the corner of the restaurant in one of the hotels Dad owned. "Will she be able to handle the traveling on top of everything else? The training and the camps? The time change is going to throw her off. I'm worried she's going to get burned out."
I raised my chin. "Of course I can." Kova and my dad looked in my direction. "I can manage, just like I did before."
"She only has so much time," Kova said, and leaned forward. "Adrianna is at her prime. We need to capitalize on it while we can. Not to say that she cannot go for a second Olympics, as it is always a possibility, but her time is now and we want to make the most of it. She has a valid passport, yes?"
"Of course," Dad replied, and scribbled down a few notes. "Surely the parents attend these meets in…" He squinted at his paper before his voice rose to a higher pitch. "Italy? And Scotland?"
Kova cleared his throat and folded his hands in front of him. "Some parents do. However, it is very costly, and the majority cannot afford it."
"So they travel alone to a country they’ve never been, where they have no jurisdiction? That's not going to happen."
All the air left my lungs.
"They travel with their teammates and coaches," Kova corrected him.
Dad's shoulders relaxed marginally. He was worried about the international meets, but with every right. I'd probably feel the same way if I were in his shoes. Any time I'd traveled out of the country, it had always been with my parents. Never alone.
"It's one thing to allow her to live on her own. I can get here in no time and I'm familiar with the area. It's another thing entirely to travel thousands of miles to a foreign country where she has no rights or protection. You mean to tell me parents just let their children go alone? Without a care in the world?" He shook his head and placed the papers down. "No way. Not going to happen. I'll have to check my work schedule and see what I can do."
There went the little bit of air I had left. My ribs throbbed from the pounding they were taking.
"What about Mom?" I couldn't call her Joy in front of Kova.
"Don't count her in on anything at this point," he said. He picked up his cell phone and moved his thumbs swiftly over the screen.
I pulled back, retreating into myself again. I closed down. Don't count her in on anything at this point. She isn’t even my real mother.
My forehead pounded. I couldn't wrap my mind around how she could go from raising me as if I were her own to discarding me like yesterday's trash. True, Joy wasn’t my real mom, but she was the only mom I’d ever known, and despite our differences, she was still my mom and I loved her. Maybe Dad was wrong. There was no way she would just write me off for something I had no hand in.
"What do you mean don't count her in?" I asked gently. "Can I talk to her about it in case you can't be there?" My voice sounded small and brittle. "I've never asked her for anything, but I'll ask her for this. She can't possibly say no."
He didn't respond, just continued to type away on his cell phone.
I swallowed the thick lump in my throat and glanced toward Kova, panic stricken and hoping he’d get the hint. Do something, I pleaded soundlessly. He gave me a subtle shake of his head, and I dropped my gaze. If I had to, I'd ask Kova to speak with him privately. There was no way I'd come this far and then not be able to travel to qualifying meets. I wasn't sure what I'd do if it came down to that, but I'd find a way to go.
"Dad—"
"Adrianna," he said my name. Just one word. And it was enough for me to understand the meaning behind his tone.
I sank into my chair, with my stomach churning bitterly and my heart in my throat. It seemed like every time I got one step closer to my dream I was shoved ten feet back. Dad shot out a series of texts and mumbled angrily under his breath while we sat in silence around the table. Finally, he exhaled a heavy sigh then turned his phone face down.
"Dad—"
"Not now." His head snapped in my direction and I recoiled at his leveled gaze. "We'll talk later." He turned toward Kova. "So, what's next?"
Kova cleared his throat. "Apart from the various meets that are overseas, Adrianna has two camps she must attend. The camp is in Texas and held at the U.S. Olympic Training Site. One is this coming weekend, and the other is next month. Both will last one full week and she will be surrounded by the best of the best in the sport, meaning coaches, doctors, and therapists. She will be well taken care of. She will not be permitted to leave the grounds, but she will have everything she needs. Her meals will be taken care of and she will room with other gymnasts."
"Will you be there with her?" Dad asked.
"I will not."
"Hmm…" I'd traveled alone to other states before, so this one should've been a shoe in, but judging by my dad’s tone, I wasn't so sure now.
"I have many connections there, if that helps you," Kova added.
My dad and Kova continued to discuss what my future entailed in detail until dinner arrived.
"Excuse me." Kova stepped away to take a call midway through our meal. Dad waved him off and ate away at his rare steak like he didn't have a care in the world. We at quietly together.
"I do not mean to be rude," Kova said, returning a moment later, "but I need to continue this call with my wife in private."
I pretended not to care and cut a small sliver of flaky snapper. I took a bite and wondered what he and Katja were going to talk about, then just as quickly let the thought go. I had enough on my plate now, so to speak.
"Not to worry, I'll have the waiter pack up what’s left and send it up to your room," Dad said.
"Thank you, Frank. Adria
nna. I will see you both tomorrow." Kova left with his phone pressed to his ear.
Tomorrow we would fly back to Florida. I'd practice like a beast for the next four days, then fly to Texas for a week. I wasn't sure what to expect at camp—I'd only heard rumors—but in between camp I'd be practicing my regular schedule, and critiquing every part of my routines just like I'd done thousands of times before.
"What's wrong?" Dad gestured toward my plate with his steak knife. "Is it not to your liking?"
I took another small bite and swallowed. "It's perfect. Probably the best yellowtail I've had in a while."
He smiled. "You know, if your mother was here, she wouldn't let you eat the potato soufflé."
"I know. She would've had it yanked from my plate and made the waiter take it back."
I glanced down at the little ramekin of puffed up potatoes and my mouth watered. Carbohydrates. How I missed them dearly. I'd only taken a small bite. I'd give anything to lose myself in the bowl of shitty carbs, but I knew better. One little taste wouldn't kill me, but there was not a chance in hell I'd be eating them now since I’d made the national team.
"Speaking of Mom…"
"There's nothing to talk about."
"Dad, please," I begged. "What’s going on?"
"Nothing we haven't already dealt with in the past. Trust me, sweetheart, everything is going to be as it should've been in the end."
I lowered my eyes. He made no sense. His words certainly didn't match his cloying tone, but it was the last thing he said that troubled me. The urge to delve deeper into that statement nagged at my gut something fierce but something told me he'd wind up angry.
"Adrianna, the only thing I want you to worry about right now is gymnastics. That's your first and only focus. I will take care of the rest."
Take care of the rest, as if he could sweep it under the rug. We weren't talking about an old friend I hadn't seen in years, we were talking about the woman who begrudgingly raised me and then shut me out.
