Return to You (Letters to Nowhere #3)(3)
There’s no point in answering her. She’s already got her phone out, her index finger flying over the touch screen. “I think journalism is a masters-only program so you would do English literature or communications as your undergrad. These courses look interesting.”
“Interesting, huh?”
She begins reading course titles and already the sound of her voice is etching itself into my memory just like my mother’s cello and my sister’s British accent. I close my eyes and enjoy the warmth of Karen beside me so much that I fall asleep, and the last words I hear are—English 103H: The Active Life or the Contemplative Life?
CHAPTER TWO
~KAREN~
“You can’t take two turns when everyone else takes one,” Stevie shouts.
My back is turned so I can’t see what’s going on, but I’m sure she’s arguing with TJ again. We haven’t even reached the end of our first week here, but I predict TJ won’t make it much longer if he keeps this up—Stevie’s going to kill him.
“Handstands, Karen,” Nina reminds me, as I chalk up for bars. “Stretch more on that layout Jaeger, open your hips. And higher on the dismount.”
This week has been all about amplitude and even though Nina drives me nuts, the philosophy is a good one. We have a little over a month until National Championships and now’s the time to push for those changes so that there’s plenty of time to fully form the new habit. Coach Bentley’s coaching philosophies are actually somewhat similar, but with Nina, one bad day and she could easily write you off. And why not? She’s got twenty talented senior elites to choose from. Whereas Bentley only has me and Stevie if he wants to get a gymnast on the World team this year. He’s on our side. He’ll back us up no matter what. Once Nina names the team, it’s like that with her, too, but until then—every day here is judgment day.
After jumping into my mount on the low bar, I feel myself coming up short on a handstand, so I give an extra kick and end up overcompensating. I turn quickly, swing down again and have to redo the handstand after getting myself facing the correct direction.
“No, no, no!” Nina says. “Start over.”
I come down from the bar with a sigh of frustration.
“Here’s how it works, Einstein,” Stevie’s voice invades my concentration bubble again, “I tumble, Ariel tumbles, then TJ tumbles. Rinse. Repeat. Got it?”
“I wouldn’t have a problem with that if you’d haul ass to get back in line like a normal person would. And if you quit with the voodoo witchcraft talking to yourself shit before you take a turn. I counted to twenty last time while you stood there calling the gods forth to help your sorry excuse for a double double layout.”
Oh boy.
I dip my hands quickly in the chalk bowl again, then glance at Nina to see if she’s listening to this heated argument on the tumbling strip, but she’s walked off to talk to one of her National Team Committee members.
Stevie laughs. “Admit you’re jealous of my tumbling pass. You don’t know how to twist, do you? It’s either double flips or triple flips with you. Very two-dimensional.”
I hurry back to the low bar, take a breath, and jump into my mount determined not to screw up again. Sweat covers the front of my leotard and my hair. I’ve done eight bar routines already this morning.
I pull off the first handstand with no issues this time and as I’m preparing for my release the high bar, I spot Jordan across the gym, taking a seat in the bleachers. He looks a little better today than he has the past couple days. I know he’s feeling sick again, but is too tough to admit it. I’m sure his immune system is shot after all the rounds of antibiotics he’s taken lately. That’s probably made him susceptible to every germ floating around.
Regardless, I’ve been loading up on Vitamin C just in case he’s contagious. I should probably be ticked and refuse to kiss him, but I can’t. I’m pathetic like that.
Fatigue from the long workouts and the stress of Nina’s watchful glare (and that damn clipboard) finally wins this nearly weeklong battle when I launch myself into a Hindorff release move—a move I’ve been performing since the beginning of my elite career—and completely miss the bar, landing on my knees on the mats below.
This mistake doesn’t warrant a yelling lecture from Nina. She simply shakes her head and turns her attention to one of the other girls who’s just mounted the balance beam. My arms and legs are shaking from exhaustion as I watch Alicia, who was on the Pan Am team with me, mount the high bar. She might not have beaten me or Stevie in the all-around, but she’s amazing on bars and beam and Nina goes on and on about her execution all the time.
Our morning workout is nearly over, so many of the campers are flooding into the gym, heading for the bleachers where Jordan’s still seated. Alicia has a piked Geiger release move in her routine, which isn’t all that uncommon or difficult, but she does hers with one arm. And that gets huge crowd reaction every time. It’s flashy. When she catches it in front of all the watching campers and coaches, there’s a huge gasp and a scattering of applause.
I reach for the file in the chalk bowl and attack my grips with it. I need to hit this next routine. No more falls.
Alicia lands her full twisting double layout dismount with a resounding thud and gets more applause. I’m sure we’ve gone overtime in our workout because we’ve never had this many campers watching us in the morning. Lucky for me, I choose today to suck big time on bars.