six
Callie
We have two training sessions a day, five days a week, with open gym on Saturday. Our morning training, which is conditioning and weight lifting, is optional in the sense that you only have to go to three a week. With classes and everything, the time slot might not work for some, but I schedule my classes around gym. School comes easy to me because I’ve worked so hard to be a good gymnast, and that has taught me so much. Time management, goal seeking, goal achieving… I mean, the list is endless. Is it easy? Hell no. Can it be toxic? Absolutely, but I work past that.
I used to dwell because of the toxic behavior. Now, I acknowledge it and move on. I either change the situation, if I can, or I walk away completely. The issues with my dad were hard to change, and walking away was ultimately what we had to do. Aviva would kick him out, but he always came back, and he always stole from her again. Always. It is so frustrating to know all the details now, because back then, she hid a lot.
Aviva did her best to give me a childhood and a loving home. Despite the toxicity my father brought with him. I know her goal was to keep us both from having daddy issues. It was a valiant effort, but unfortunately, it took growth for me to realize he not only stopped loving both Aviva and me when our mom died, but he stopped loving himself. I even wonder if he loved us before my mom died. I asked Aviva that once, which was a mistake. She was pregnant and freaked out, crying, because I guess she’d never really thought of it before. For me, I always believed that. It was the only answer as to how he could turn his back on us so easily and move to addiction.
Gymnastics and Aviva saved me. Aviva loved me more than anyone could ever love someone, more than any sister was supposed to, and gymnastics gave me that outlet. I was mad? Cool, let’s run full force at a vault and fly into the air. I was sad? Shit, watch me land acrobatic skills on a beam to know how badass I am. I struggled on bars at first—most do—but it made me obsessed with getting better. Floor, I’m a natural, and I enjoy the show I get to put on. It’s my outlet, my happy place, and so I tend to overwork myself. I do it to remind myself that I’m incredible, even though I wasn’t enough for my dad.
Cam walks beside me, pulling her hair up in a high bun while I fix my ACOB shirt, the acronym standing for Autism Center of Bellevue.
“Did you hear Coach? We have a new therapist this year.”
I bring in my brows. “But Tammy isn’t graduating yet.”
“She moved to the swim team since, you know, her boyfriend is over there.”
I feign hurt. “Left us behind for dick! The audacity!”
She snickers as she fixes her scrubs. Our colors are teal and black here at Bellevue, but the dentistry program scrubs are a seafoam green. It’s weird. I don’t know why they didn’t go with our school colors, but I assume maybe they didn’t want to confuse the nursing and medical programs, which use teal and black, with the dentistry program. I think I would have gone with white or something. I don’t even know why I care. I feel sometimes as if I’ve picked up Nico’s little quirks. Small things drive me crazy when they shouldn’t.
“Right? We shall send her a hate cake.”
“Yes, hate cake,” I agree, grinning. When a girl quits the team because of injury, we send her a hate cake. It sounds mean, but though the writing on the cake reads, “We hate you,” all around it, we each write in icing our favorite thing about her. We bully one another gently, and it keeps us sane. “Any news on who it is?”
“Coach let it slip it was a guy.”
“A guy, you say,” I say, waggling my brows. “Is he of the good-looking variety? Shall I break rules?”
She snorts. “Callie, stop. You don’t break rules. You’re all bark and no bite.” With that, I bite her shoulder, at which we both explode in laughter. “I hate you!”
“I am full of bite!” I exclaim, and she laughs, her face turning red. She’s so pretty and so funny. I adore her. “And hush, don’t tell people I’m a do-gooder.”
She rolls her eyes. “I don’t have to tell anyone. Everyone knows. You’re the only one I know who hooks up with someone and then stays with them for nine months. Like, come on. I know, you know, the dick is in abundance here in Bullies’ country.”
I despise that saying. It’s so icky. Especially when most of the guys are just dicks, not hung like a bull or anything. At least, Tommy wasn’t. I really don’t know why I stayed with him as long as I did. I could have been with so many other guys, but I want consistency. Though now, I’m thinking of bull dick, and I’m brought back to Evan Adler. In shorts. Very short shorts. “There was an abundance in that RA’s shorts.”
“You mean lack of shorts. Fuckadoodle, he was fine.”
“He is chef’s-kiss fine,” I say, making the motion to further my point. “I didn’t think I’d see him here.”
“Huh?”
Oh, duh. “He just medically retired from the NHL.”
She blinks. “No fucking way.”
“Yeah, he played with Nico for almost two years. He has a twin brother who still plays.”
“What? You’re such a sneak! You knew that and still claimed him. You know I want a sugar daddy.”
I snort. “Evan is not a sugar daddy. He’s, like, two years older than us. Plus, you’re going to be a sugar momma.”
She thinks that over. “True, very true. But I’m poor right now. Not everyone has a rich daddy.”
I give her a pointed look. Her dad is the best oral surgeon here in Nashville and works exclusively on athletes. He offered to fix Nico’s chipped tooth, but Nico has had that chipped tooth since he was like ten. There is no way anyone is touching his mouth. “Cam, you have a rich dad.”
Cameron shrugs, her lips curving. “He is very bitchy when it comes to his black card.”
“Whatever. I don’t even know what a black card is,” I throw back at her as she laughs, shaking her head.
“Sure you don’t.”
“I don’t. I really don’t.”