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.