He may be hot as hell, and I may have wanted to lick and slap him at the same time, but he could be a complete asshole. Kova muttered something in Russian. He was in rare form today. I had no idea what his deal was. I wish I had some knowledge of the language so then I’d know what he was saying.
I leaped again, but was shaky on the landing. I think I bent my legs too. I was second guessing myself and could feel how off-kilter I was. Kova made me nervous, and his constant yelling was affecting my performance. I hated today. I hated beam. And damn it, this was one of those moments where I wanted to quit altogether.
If I didn’t get my nerves under control, I could critically injure myself.
“Tuck in your hips and tighten your stomach. Your chest will stay up and therefore your split will be wider. What part of that do you not get?”
“I’m trying, Coach.”
He cracked his neck, sharply twisting it from side to side. The sound made me cringe. “If you were trying, you would do it the correct way. You are not trying hard enough.”
Gritting my teeth, I said, “Yes. I. Am,” enunciating each word. “You think I like messing up and having you yell at me?” I said out loud. I was trying, I was just doing a shitty job.
Sarah paused on the beam next to me, her arms slowly fell to her sides as Kova stood stock still. His eyes were wild, huge, and the vein in his neck noticeably pulsed. Fear streamed through me, which was only felt tenfold because I could feel my teammates’ as well. I was legitimately frightened of my coach.
And I was quite sure he was about to strangle me.
“I am going to pretend I did not just hear that,” he said, his voice low and controlled.
Flexibility has never been my strong suit, or keeping my mouth shut apparently, which was why I had difficulty with jumps sometimes. My legs did not split like they should. Lots of gymnasts suffered from inflexibility—it didn’t come with the nature of the sport. Gymnastics builds muscle, which in turn hinders flexibility. It was a vicious cycle to find a balance. Typically, gymnasts who are good on vault and floor, often times find beam isn’t their strongest suit.
People automatically assumed being a gymnast meant being able to flip into a pretzel at any given moment. It was quite the opposite. Long hours of manipulating your body at odd angles did it. Bending, flipping, and twisting, I could do. But my legs and my back did not curve the way some of these girls did. It was unnatural, but still, I strived for it.
“Jump down,” he sighed, running a hand through his unruly hair. “Adrianna, you have to lift that leg up higher. And stop shaking up there, you look like a leaf blowing on a tree,” he spit angrily. “Here, do it on the low beam first.”
A leaf blowing on a tree...I let that one pass. He’s Russian after all.
I leaped again, splitting my legs wider, but this time when I looked back at him, he looked puzzled.
“I do not think you are squaring your hips.” He placed his jaw in his hand. “No, that cannot be right...”
This had to be some sort of joke. I knew how to square my hips.
“It is either that, or you lack more flexibility than I thought, which would explain why your jumps look like shit,” he muttered to himself. He went from veins-in-his-neck screaming to quiet and pondering. “But you are still not hitting that one hundred and eighty degree split.” He stared at me intently, his brows angled deep toward each other while rubbing his jaw. “Go into the dance room and do split jumps in front of the mirror. I will be there shortly.”
I swallowed back the lump in my throat and nodded, making my way into the dance room. There was a piece of long white tape perpendicular to the mirror. I stood on it and began doing split jumps, making sure to land on the make shift balance beam. I watched my body closely. My hips looked squared, but Kova was right. It didn’t look like I was hitting the split all the way.
I wasn’t sure how long I was in the dance room for or how many split jumps I completed by the time Kova walked in. He studied my jumps through critical eyes. I didn’t ask questions and I didn’t stop until my legs felt like rubber. Kova strutted over to me. He placed his hands on my shoulders and looked into my eyes, radiating confidence into me.
“Focus. Take a deep breath and exhale,” he paused. “A quiet and controlled breath, Ria. Like I taught you.” His palms warmed my shoulders as he massaged them to loosen me up.
“Shoulders back,” he pushed my shoulders back which brought my chest forward. “Chest out,” he dipped his chin in approval. “Like that.” He grasped the sides of my jaw and said, “Chin up.” I nodded. Before I could turn back to face the mirror, his knuckles slid beneath my jaw and danced across my throat seductively. A shiver broke out on my arms and his eyes darkened. “Perfect.” He dropped his hands and I turned around to prepare for another jump. Kova came up behind me and repeated the movements, his eyes never leaving mine. He stood so close his clothes brushed against my tepid skin. Once I was standing how he wanted me, he placed his hands on my hips, the tips of his fingers searing my bikini line as he pressed deeper to make sure my hips were square. His nearness caused my heart to thump wildly against my chest. He’d never been this daring before, this forward, and truth be told, I welcomed it.
“You see how you are standing? This is how you prepare before you leap.” His breath accelerated. The tips of his fingers curved down and brushed my ass, dangerously low. Goose bumps immediately broke out across my skin and I was sure he felt them as his hands lingered evocatively, causing a rush of wetness to surge through me. A low, deep groan reverberated in the back of his throat, but I’d heard it before he stepped back. Kova gave me a slight nod and I forced my racing heart to get under control. I executed a split jump, which ended up looking much better this time.
“Beautiful,” he said quietly, looking into my eyes through the mirror. It was so hard for me not to smile over his approval. “Again.” With a nod of his head, he ordered me to perform the skill multiple times. My legs split higher, more gracefully, but more importantly, correctly.
At this point I was out of breath from doing them repeatedly. I waited for his next order with burning thighs while balancing on the balls of my feet. His incredibly handsome poker face was hard to read.
“Back to the beam.”
Once we were back, I chalked up my feet and headed to the beam. I gripped it between my hands and jumped, feeling my thighs rub against the suede before I stood tall. I performed about a dozen split jumps perfectly before I moved on. Kova seemed pleased with me. I tapped the beam with a pointed toe and then stepped into the leap. I landed, slightly shaky and saved it, but I knew Coach saw it. He never missed a beat. His eyes narrowed to slits and I felt t
hem inching up my body until they met my eyes. I exhaled a low and steady breath and waited for what he had to say.
“Adrianna, you should be able to land your leap on the beam if you can do it on the white tape. Get it right.”
I blinked my eyes, abruptly feeling light headed. It’d been hours since I’d eaten. My lunch had been light, not wanting to work out on a full belly. And since I was at the gym for hours, half the time I was starving. After I finished on beam though, I planned to eat my protein bar to hold me over until practice was over.