Balance (Off Balance 1)

As much as I tried not to let her words bother me, they did. The looks, the comments, they all grated on my nerves. I was tired of feeling like I wasn’t good enough. I worked just as hard as any of these girls.

“You’re wrong.” Standing up, I decided to walk away. Tears were welling in my eyes and I didn’t want her to see. I refused to listen to any more of her bitter bullshit. Rips were most likely happening, so I knew I needed to load up with as much chalk as I could now.

With my stomach in knots and tears burning the back of my eyes, I felt myself slipping. The toll my emotions were taking came close to the edge and I needed to get them under control before I broke.

Grabbing the honey, I squirted my hands, and patted on more chalk. Reagan’s words replayed in my head as I repeated the process, over and over again.

Walking to the uneven bars, Hayden grabbed my arm midstride to stop me.

“Where are your grips?” he asked, glancing at my wrists then back to my eyes, knowing the kind of end result I could face.

I shrugged. “I have no idea, Hayden.” I said, dejectedly. “I thought I had them—”

“Hey Reagan, let Adrianna borrow an extra pair of your grips, would ya?”

“What are you doing,” I whispered at him, yanking my arm away. “You know she can’t stand me and honestly, I don’t want any favors from her.”

I could swear I’d seen my grips in my bag this morning. The thought crossed my mind that maybe Reagan purposely took them out. I wouldn’t put it past her. She seemed hell bent on wanting me to fall.

“If she’s so rich, then why doesn’t she have more?” Her squeaky voice was like nails on a chalkboard. I’d give anything to rub chalk on her vocal chords so she didn’t sound like a mouse.

“Don’t worry, Reagan. I like the bloody rips on my hands. It feels so good when the chalk hits my red, irritated skin, turning my hands raw. What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger, right?”

Tightening my ponytail, I gripped the low bar and swung into a glide kip. With my hips back, I extended my legs as far as they could go so I was in a perfect horizontal line, and felt the pull in my stomach. I brought my toes to the bar and piked to a kip, then cast to a handstand, holding it for three seconds, before doing a glide kip out so my arms were straight and my thighs rested very lightly on the bar.

I turned to Reagan. “Guess this means Coach will just be giving me more attention since I’m without my grips today.”

Casting to a handstand on the low bar once again, I piked down and swung around in a straddle position and released the low bar. With my hips high in the air, I twisted my body completely around and reached for the high bar.

Chalk sprinkled down lightly when I grasped the bar, and I closed my eyes. Doing a few light release moves allowed me to warm up as I swung from bar to bar with ease, while it stretched out my sore muscles. It felt good, and I had to admit I loved the pull on my body. Everything just faded away. It was like a stress reliever and I embraced it every single time. Especially now.

I warmed up with a few handstands and pirouettes, making sure I hit them in vertical, then a Giant to a flyaway dismount. I warmed up once more and decided instead of doing a flyaway again, I would go for a double layout. It wasn’t really common in a warm up, but it was something I mastered long ago and could do in my sleep.

Two Giants completed, I released. The bar ricocheted loudly, springs bouncing. I flew through the air, making sure I kept my body straight as a board and my hips opened while I flipped back two times before driving my heels into the ground. I landed with a slight wobble. A rolling flame of heat shot up my calf, but I forced it out of my head.

“Nice, Aid!” Hayden yelled excitedly as he walked over to the pommel horse.

All Reagan could manage was a glare. Before I could say anything, Coach Kova yelled across the gym, “Nice job, Adrianna. Tighten up a little more.”

Naturally he saw my wobble, but nothing got past the man. “It was just a warm up, Coach.” I responded back and he nodded in approval, his eyes gleaming with contentment.

That was the first real thing Kova had said to me in weeks. I needed it, I needed his backing after what Reagan said. I needed to know I was making progress in his eyes, that my hard work did not go unnoticed. Other than commands about gymnastics skills, we hardly spoke. I’d come to accept his stiff personality after what happened between us.

I turned and smiled brightly at a seething Reagan, who stepped around to mount the bar and begin her routine. But just before she did, she threw an extra set of grips at my feet.

“You know, Coach works with you the way he does because he feels bad. You’re not good enough to be here, and it’s obvious you never will be. Why do you think he puts in so much time with you? It’s the same way with Hayden. Holly told me Hayden said you have no friends and you’re alone all the time, so he’s friends with you out of pity. I’m not surprised, though. Hayden’s a good guy. It’s in his nature to go out of his way to help those in need.”

The satisfaction I felt moments earlier was gone. Tears pooled in my eyes again at her heartless words. Months of hard work and emotional avoidance bubbled at the surface. I didn’t want to cry, but her words stung and I felt them ready to spill over.

“No one here likes you, and the one friend you have isn’t a real one. Your coach and your only friend have no faith in you whatsoever.” She laughed, mockingly. “You should just leave now. You’ll never amount to being an Olympic gymnast, Adrianna Rossi. You don’t have what it takes and you never will.”

With that, she smiled and turned to mount the bar. I walked back over to the chalk bowl, my heart pounding against my chest. I was sick to my stomach. Her words rang in my ears, getting louder and heavier. They couldn’t be true.

A fat tear slipped down my cheek at the reality of my life and I quickly wiped it away. Embarrassment over forgetting my grips clogged my throat, and my chest tightened from the humiliation Reagan just dealt me. I was suffocating in a bowl of fucking chalk. Somehow I had been completely oblivious to my surroundings. I’d been used to snotty girls back home, but Reagan was a true mean girl, and I didn’t know how to deal with it. I’ve been taught to handle things with poise and control, not act like a loose cannon, but her words were cruel and they struck deep. All I wanted to do was retaliate.

But I didn’t. Instead, I took the higher road and began powdering my hands as another tear fell into the bowl, her words repeating in my head.

Taking a deep breath, I exhaled and let all the bullshit out. I looked up at the gym around me and locked eyes with Kova, who was staring at me intently.