Two Weeks Six Days
Sunday
Kay
All I could think as I pulled up to the gym was ‘We’re so dead.’ We were not going to perform well at States if what happened yesterday kept up.
Livvy had set us up at our worst events. She must have been pissed by the way our last practice had gone. But it happens every year, so it shouldn’t have taken me by surprise.
At least I was with Viv. But today, I was thinking it wasn’t the best thing. She was as pissed as Livvy. Maybe more. And it was really hard to make decent conversation when Viv was constantly swearing as she went over her routine. “One…two…three…pose…jump… [sound of Viv falling onto the mat] shit…I hate Livvy…fuck her…” Not exactly the most comforting sound.
I couldn’t concentrate. Beam was hard enough without the distraction of the stream of profanities that were now pouring out of Viv’s mouth. Finally, I had to do something I was dreading: ask the very annoyed coach for a favor.
I walked over to Livvy as slowly as possible. “Um…Livvy? Can I please move somewhere else? Vivi’s getting on my nerves.”
She laughed. We both knew the swearing would continue for the rest of practice. “Sure. Why don’t you join up with Nicole and Manda on floor? Have them help you with your tumbling passes. The real point of having you and Viviana together on beam was to isolate her. I never expected you to last so long.”
Nicole and Manda welcomed me instantly, smiling sympathetically. We got to work and chatting at the same time.
After the first fairly productive practice in the last couple of days, we all went home to catch up on homework. That is, except for Bethie, who was already ahead. Because of the time-consuming practices, all of our grades were suffering. Only Bethie had straight A’s. Manda and Layla and Nicole got A’s and B’s, but the rest of us had to struggle to not fall below C’s.
So when I got home, it was natural for me to being the mountain of homework I had. But I wasn’t thinking about the essay I had due in English the next day, or the history paper that had been due Friday. My mind was still filled with gymnastics. Blowing off both sleep and work, I called Manda.
“Hey Manda, it’s me. You wanna come over, study or something?” I asked, trying to sound up-beat.
“Yeah, sure. But I have to get something done. I have this HUGE project on the polar bear due Thursday,” she replied.
Even though it was pretty late, my mom didn’t hesitate to call me downstairs when Manda showed up. My parents were used to it.
We worked away at our homework for awhile in silence. Then I asked her a question that had been bothering me.
“Manda? Do you think things have been a little tense at gymnastics?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“There just seems to be more tension between everyone.”
“You know Bethie and Viv are always at it.”
“Well, that’s not really what I mean. I would be worried if Viv didn’t blow up at least once a day. I mean more between…friends. Like Nicole and Lindsay. Viv and the world. Even Layla and Livvy keep snapping at each other.”
“It’s totally normal. Just like all the other years. It’s only a few weeks before States, so everyone’s just nervous.”
“I guess…” I let the subject drop, but it didn’t dismiss the uneasy feeling I had in the pit of my stomach.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
3 weeks 0 days
Three Weeks Zero Days
Saturday
Bethany M. Evans
“Perfect!” Olivia said as I landed my full. “Hey,” she called, “I want Vivi, Kay and Lindsay at beam NOW! Bethie, you stay up there. I want them to see it done properly.”
Again, my full came out perfectly. My precision made beam my strength, while my vault scores were only improved by my ability to “stick it”. I can perform a complex move with precision and poise, but hurtling through the air while flipping—I think not. That’s more of Viviana’s style. Quick, impatient, and courageous. That pretty much defined Viviana. She lacked the graceful patience necessary for beam.
The only sour note about my perfect full was that Amanda and Layla could both have easily done the same. Even Nicole could do it, just not quite as well.
“Girls, I’m going to pair you up to rotate through the events,” Olivia instructed. “Amanda and Layla, you two start on bars, then move to vault. Nicole, you can work with Kay and Lindsay on those three beams—“ Viviana swore. “—and yes, Viv. You and Bethie will share that other beam, then move to vault. And it’s not worth arguing over if you want to stay on this team. Bethie will help you with your routine, and then on vault you can help her.”
I had long given up on anyone calling me Bethany, but being paired with fiery Viviana would just lead toward a very long day. Nine-thirty on a Saturday morning and my patience was already wearing thin. Two more hours of work before showers and the eight of us (that included Olivia) would head out to lunch. After that we had another four hours of hard work-out, and then a drive home would complete my day.
Three weeks before States, my life totally revolved around gymnastics. It wasn’t easy completing my homework for these few months before States, as well as tasks of being 8th grade president and head of student council.
Back in reality, Viviana was walking across the beam as if it were a tightrope. I rolled my eyes. “Viviana, are you three? You heard Olivia. You’ll have your chance to criticize my vaulting, but for now we’re stuck together, and unfortunately it’s on beam.”
She sighed, stuck out her tongue like the spoiled three-year-old inside her, and flipped off the end of the beam.
It was going to be a very long day.
Three Weeks Zero Days
Saturday
Nicole
“Yikes,” I murmured to Kay and Lindsay. “Bethany and Vivi working together? And on beam? It’s a disaster waiting to happen. What the hell was Livvy thinking?”
“How long do you think they’ll last?” Kay asked innocently. We cracked up.
Lindsay shrugged, like her usual pessimist self.
“I give them half an hour at the most before Livvy switches them with Manda and Layla,” I said. “I’d bet my whole savings account.”
Kay giggled. “Come on. Let’s start.”
I noticed that Vivi and Bethie wouldn’t look at each other, much less talk or comment on the other’s form. Apparently, their arguments had a TON of effect on them both.
After only five minutes, Vivi refused to get on the same beam as Bethie. But by then, Kay, Lindsay and I had moved on to bars, freeing up the other beams for Viv. And Livvy, who had been working with Layla and Manda, relieved Bethie by taking over the tiresome task of Vivi.
But soon Livvy moved on the help us with our routines, and Bethie started commenting on Vivi’s moves. Not even five minutes later, Viv yelled something extremely high on the bad language scale and stomped to the bathroom. And even across the gym I could hear the stream profanities pouring out her mouth. She stayed there a full ten minutes, and the swears kept coming.
That girl has serious anger management issues.
Thankfully, she came out a new person after her last round of cuss words. She seemed calm and fully composed. I began to get worried and freaked out at her manner until she and Bethie started yelling at each other again.
In the end, Livvy did switch them with Manda and Layla and things calmed down immediately. Vivi was always happy doing her tricks over the vault, and Bethie seemed content with working on her tumbling passes on the tumble track.
And I—and everyone else—ha sure been glad for the peace and quiet. Everything was always so stressful before States.
I could easily tell that Livvy was glad for the break from the troublesome two, and we were all relieved to be hitting the showers and heading off to lunch.
Kay and Vivi went to the deli store that was within walking distance to get sandwiches, while the rest of us ate out of bag lunches on the cold stone steps that lead up the front door of GCA. Eventually, Kay and Vivi came back to join us because the deli is super crowded at lunchtime and there’s barely room to breathe, let alone eat lunch.
Layla, Manda and Bethie began discussing a French test they’d all had. They were all in advanced French. Kay and Vivi were whispering to each other, probably planning another one of their lame pranks everyone cracks up at. Lindsay and I just sat there in silence, watching everyone else.
My friendship with Lindsay is kinda strange. We’re complete opposites—she’s dark-haired with brown eyes, and has a totally pessimistic personality. I’m blond, with hazel eyes, and have a way more up-beat attitude—but we’re somehow best friends. I guess that saying about opposites attracting really is true.
Our moms had known each other forever, and stuck us together on numerous occasions. Had our moms not forced us to get to know each other, we would barely acknowledge each other. But they did, and even though Lindsay just moved from a nearby town, we were really close.
After lunch, we headed back to the gym. Livvy told us to warm-up and stretch, and we set to work immediately. She must have realized that Vivi wasn’t here yet, because there wasn’t any chaos. For now.
She and Kay came in ten minutes late. I have to admit that I hadn’t noticed their absence—I must have been too wrapped up in the strangely peaceful environment.
“You’re late, girls,” Livvy called. “And for that, you get to run extra laps—in the pit.”
Vivi and Kay’s eyes lit up at the thought and they dashed over to the pit. I watched in amusement. What the hell had Livvy been thinking? Things could only get worse from here.
Livvy sighed, immediately regretting her “punishment.” “What was I thinking?” she muttered as they scrambled around the pit, throwing the foam cubes at each other.
I don’t know about the others, but I was itching to join them. But I knew better. Livvy would kill all of us, and not even a miracle would lighten the mood after that.
So we continued with our work-out, trying to ignore the fun Kay and Vivi were having.
Livvy tried to ignore them to, and helped me add some finer detail to the complexity of my beam routine. Then a stray block sailed out of the pit and hit her square in the chest. She fumed for a minute, the indecision in her eyes clear. Making her choice, she ran full speed for the pit. As Livvy won a silver medal in Olympic vaulting, she ran pretty damn fast. She became a coach after severely injuring her ankle on a bad landing. But anyway, the two once laughing girls were booted out of the pit by a not-so-happy and immensely frustrated and annoyed coach. Naturally, Bethie and Lindsay didn’t even crack a smile, but Layla, Manda and I burst out in giggles.
“Kay! Learn Layla’s floor routine. Viviana! Learn Bethie’s beam routine. NOW!”
“But—“
“No buts!”
“I DON’T KNOW BETHIE”S FLOOR ROUTINE!”
“THEN ASK HER!”
“Fuck you,” Vivi stalked away.
Livvy took a deep breath before changing plans. “Why don’t we end practice early and go see a movie or something.”
This was not a good sign for practice just three weeks before States.
Saturday
Bethany M. Evans
“Perfect!” Olivia said as I landed my full. “Hey,” she called, “I want Vivi, Kay and Lindsay at beam NOW! Bethie, you stay up there. I want them to see it done properly.”
Again, my full came out perfectly. My precision made beam my strength, while my vault scores were only improved by my ability to “stick it”. I can perform a complex move with precision and poise, but hurtling through the air while flipping—I think not. That’s more of Viviana’s style. Quick, impatient, and courageous. That pretty much defined Viviana. She lacked the graceful patience necessary for beam.
The only sour note about my perfect full was that Amanda and Layla could both have easily done the same. Even Nicole could do it, just not quite as well.
“Girls, I’m going to pair you up to rotate through the events,” Olivia instructed. “Amanda and Layla, you two start on bars, then move to vault. Nicole, you can work with Kay and Lindsay on those three beams—“ Viviana swore. “—and yes, Viv. You and Bethie will share that other beam, then move to vault. And it’s not worth arguing over if you want to stay on this team. Bethie will help you with your routine, and then on vault you can help her.”
I had long given up on anyone calling me Bethany, but being paired with fiery Viviana would just lead toward a very long day. Nine-thirty on a Saturday morning and my patience was already wearing thin. Two more hours of work before showers and the eight of us (that included Olivia) would head out to lunch. After that we had another four hours of hard work-out, and then a drive home would complete my day.
Three weeks before States, my life totally revolved around gymnastics. It wasn’t easy completing my homework for these few months before States, as well as tasks of being 8th grade president and head of student council.
Back in reality, Viviana was walking across the beam as if it were a tightrope. I rolled my eyes. “Viviana, are you three? You heard Olivia. You’ll have your chance to criticize my vaulting, but for now we’re stuck together, and unfortunately it’s on beam.”
She sighed, stuck out her tongue like the spoiled three-year-old inside her, and flipped off the end of the beam.
It was going to be a very long day.
Three Weeks Zero Days
Saturday
Nicole
“Yikes,” I murmured to Kay and Lindsay. “Bethany and Vivi working together? And on beam? It’s a disaster waiting to happen. What the hell was Livvy thinking?”
“How long do you think they’ll last?” Kay asked innocently. We cracked up.
Lindsay shrugged, like her usual pessimist self.
“I give them half an hour at the most before Livvy switches them with Manda and Layla,” I said. “I’d bet my whole savings account.”
Kay giggled. “Come on. Let’s start.”
I noticed that Vivi and Bethie wouldn’t look at each other, much less talk or comment on the other’s form. Apparently, their arguments had a TON of effect on them both.
After only five minutes, Vivi refused to get on the same beam as Bethie. But by then, Kay, Lindsay and I had moved on to bars, freeing up the other beams for Viv. And Livvy, who had been working with Layla and Manda, relieved Bethie by taking over the tiresome task of Vivi.
But soon Livvy moved on the help us with our routines, and Bethie started commenting on Vivi’s moves. Not even five minutes later, Viv yelled something extremely high on the bad language scale and stomped to the bathroom. And even across the gym I could hear the stream profanities pouring out her mouth. She stayed there a full ten minutes, and the swears kept coming.
That girl has serious anger management issues.
Thankfully, she came out a new person after her last round of cuss words. She seemed calm and fully composed. I began to get worried and freaked out at her manner until she and Bethie started yelling at each other again.
In the end, Livvy did switch them with Manda and Layla and things calmed down immediately. Vivi was always happy doing her tricks over the vault, and Bethie seemed content with working on her tumbling passes on the tumble track.
And I—and everyone else—ha sure been glad for the peace and quiet. Everything was always so stressful before States.
I could easily tell that Livvy was glad for the break from the troublesome two, and we were all relieved to be hitting the showers and heading off to lunch.
Kay and Vivi went to the deli store that was within walking distance to get sandwiches, while the rest of us ate out of bag lunches on the cold stone steps that lead up the front door of GCA. Eventually, Kay and Vivi came back to join us because the deli is super crowded at lunchtime and there’s barely room to breathe, let alone eat lunch.
Layla, Manda and Bethie began discussing a French test they’d all had. They were all in advanced French. Kay and Vivi were whispering to each other, probably planning another one of their lame pranks everyone cracks up at. Lindsay and I just sat there in silence, watching everyone else.
My friendship with Lindsay is kinda strange. We’re complete opposites—she’s dark-haired with brown eyes, and has a totally pessimistic personality. I’m blond, with hazel eyes, and have a way more up-beat attitude—but we’re somehow best friends. I guess that saying about opposites attracting really is true.
Our moms had known each other forever, and stuck us together on numerous occasions. Had our moms not forced us to get to know each other, we would barely acknowledge each other. But they did, and even though Lindsay just moved from a nearby town, we were really close.
After lunch, we headed back to the gym. Livvy told us to warm-up and stretch, and we set to work immediately. She must have realized that Vivi wasn’t here yet, because there wasn’t any chaos. For now.
She and Kay came in ten minutes late. I have to admit that I hadn’t noticed their absence—I must have been too wrapped up in the strangely peaceful environment.
“You’re late, girls,” Livvy called. “And for that, you get to run extra laps—in the pit.”
Vivi and Kay’s eyes lit up at the thought and they dashed over to the pit. I watched in amusement. What the hell had Livvy been thinking? Things could only get worse from here.
Livvy sighed, immediately regretting her “punishment.” “What was I thinking?” she muttered as they scrambled around the pit, throwing the foam cubes at each other.
I don’t know about the others, but I was itching to join them. But I knew better. Livvy would kill all of us, and not even a miracle would lighten the mood after that.
So we continued with our work-out, trying to ignore the fun Kay and Vivi were having.
Livvy tried to ignore them to, and helped me add some finer detail to the complexity of my beam routine. Then a stray block sailed out of the pit and hit her square in the chest. She fumed for a minute, the indecision in her eyes clear. Making her choice, she ran full speed for the pit. As Livvy won a silver medal in Olympic vaulting, she ran pretty damn fast. She became a coach after severely injuring her ankle on a bad landing. But anyway, the two once laughing girls were booted out of the pit by a not-so-happy and immensely frustrated and annoyed coach. Naturally, Bethie and Lindsay didn’t even crack a smile, but Layla, Manda and I burst out in giggles.
“Kay! Learn Layla’s floor routine. Viviana! Learn Bethie’s beam routine. NOW!”
“But—“
“No buts!”
“I DON’T KNOW BETHIE”S FLOOR ROUTINE!”
“THEN ASK HER!”
“Fuck you,” Vivi stalked away.
Livvy took a deep breath before changing plans. “Why don’t we end practice early and go see a movie or something.”
This was not a good sign for practice just three weeks before States.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
3 Weeks 2 Days
Three Weeks Two Days
Thursday
Viv
I ran as fast as I could down the street. It wasn’t amazingly fast seeing as I was wearing flip-flops, but I was late. Again.
And, I was most likely holding Layla up.
You see, Livvy has this thing for duo routines this year. We don’t perform them in competitions, of course, but for the bi-monthly GCA Performances.
GCA (Gymnastics & Cheerleading Academy) Performances started out as a progress check for parents to see how their child was doing. Lately, they’ve been turned into elaborate and formal shows out there for the public.
And the Starz just have to perform.
So Livvy got obsessed with duo floor routines, and for some real stupid reason, she paired me up with Layla. That’s almost--but not quite--as stupid as pairing me and Bethie.
Floor is my least favorite event. It’s not exciting and thrilling, and it takes way too long. Alongside Layla, my moves look simple and childish.
Livvy thinks that I should like floor best because I rock at tumbling passes. I have a really powerful round-off, and I always win the handspring-a-thon. But then Livvy say floor is the one event you can express yourself in. I totally agree. Fitting, then, that Livvy chooses flowing, soft, and melodic music for my routine. Seriously, if I had wanted more ballet music, I would have taken ballet. If I could choose my own music, it would be fast, energetic, and as impulsive as music gets, just like me.
Livvy says the main reason she paired me with Layla was because she was going for the “opposites” look. In my opinion —which is usually disregarded— Livvy should have paired me with blond Nicole, or even Bethie—which would have been a total disaster, so I’m not exactly complaining. And she should have put the two bests, Layla and Manda, together. Then I wouldn’t look so bad.
But even I have to admit; Layla and I were perfect opposites. Not only in appearance, but also personality and style.
Livvy had told me not to be late because she wanted Layla and me to go over our routine one last time before the performance tomorrow. Then, she wanted to go over competition routines. Unfortunately for her, Layla, and myself, I was running late thanks to my mom’s old car finally breaking down. It just had to be today.
I burst into the gym before shedding my street clothes in the locker room. I didn’t want Livvy yelling at me for not coming. Livvy sighed and gestured for me to head back to the locker room.
“Car broke down,” I yelled over my shoulder as I turned back. “It wasn’t my fault today.”
I heard Kay giggle, but other than that no one said anything.
I changed and warmed-up and stretched as quickly as I’ve ever done. As soon as I jumped up from the hard cheer floor, Livvy shepherded Layla and me onto the big, springy, blue, Olympic-sized floor. We took our places in opposite corners and the music began.
The piece was titled “Luna et Soleil.” Moon and Sun. I think I was the moon because of my black hair and the dark of night, but it was impossible to tell.
I messed up a few times, interrupting the fluency of the routine to scan my surroundings. There wasn’t much to see. It didn’t matter if the routine wasn’t perfect, anyway. This routine wouldn’t be scored. Nothing bad could come out of it.
At one point I noticed Livvy; she was watching Layla intently, clearly enjoying the sight. She didn’t look to me until a tumbling pass, which I flew through.
I could never shake the thought that I was a disappointment to Livvy. A disgrace to the team. And especially in a routine intertwined with Layla. Layla seemed to fly through the whole thing. I seemed to take off, land, take off, land. It was embarrassing, but I knew the team was used to it.
I was overjoyed when the last chord of the music died out and Livvy directed us to vault—my personal best and favorite due to the exciting thrill of running and taking off to soar through the air.
“That was good,” Livvy assured me as I made my way to the vaulting box. “Not your best, but not your worst, either. And I know you’ll kick butt on vault.”
what is kind of puzzling is that even though I’m one of the best at vault, Layla always beats me at competitions. So does Manda. Sure, I can maintain third, but someday I really want to win big time. Like that’s ever going to happen.
We warmed up with handspring timers, as usual. But today was a good day. Livvy was going to work with us individually today.
By the time we moved on to beam, I was in a pretty good mood. Considering how much I hate and suck at beam, that’s a first.
Everyone tells me that the only reason I stink so much on the beam is that I’m too impatient. I can’t help but agree.
Beam is definitely the most graceful of the four events, and if there’s something I lack, it’s the grace and poise needed to master the challenging event. I have balance, at least. But seriously, how is it possible to flip on a four-inch-wide beam that’s four feet off the ground.
Layla, Manda, and Bethie —the three that are best at beam— got to start out with back handspring step outs, while the rest of us were stuck warming up with stupid cartwheels.
I swore as I fell for the sixth time in a row. Livvy sighed, but didn’t say anything.
“Such language,” Kay teased.
“What are you taking in school?” Nicole added. “Swearing-as-a-second-language?”
“French, actually,” I shot back. “And BTW, fuck means seal in French.”
“It’s un phoque,“ Bethie corrected. “And you said ‘shit’, not ‘fuck’, so it doesn’t matter.”
“Whatevs,” I waved her off impatiently. “I’ve made my point.”
“Which was?” Bethie asked. “Viviana, you had no point.”
I sighed. “Why can’t you call me ‘Viv’ or ‘Vivi’ like the rest of the world?”
“Because I don’t like to,” Bethie insisted. “Viviana sounds better.”
“Girls, enough chit-chat,” Livvy cut in. She clapped twice. “Chop, chop.”
I reluctantly turned back to my task, now of back-walkovers.
Heading back to the locker room, I listened to Layla, Kay and Nicole criticizing my stupid bars routine.
“You have to keep your toes pointed,” Layla insisted.
“And try to glide, not swing,” Kay added.
“And you need to work on your landing,” Nicole put in.
“Lightly land—“ they all chorus.
“—and stick it,” I snapped, cutting them off. “I know.” I waved them off and quickened my stride.
Thursday
Viv
I ran as fast as I could down the street. It wasn’t amazingly fast seeing as I was wearing flip-flops, but I was late. Again.
And, I was most likely holding Layla up.
You see, Livvy has this thing for duo routines this year. We don’t perform them in competitions, of course, but for the bi-monthly GCA Performances.
GCA (Gymnastics & Cheerleading Academy) Performances started out as a progress check for parents to see how their child was doing. Lately, they’ve been turned into elaborate and formal shows out there for the public.
And the Starz just have to perform.
So Livvy got obsessed with duo floor routines, and for some real stupid reason, she paired me up with Layla. That’s almost--but not quite--as stupid as pairing me and Bethie.
Floor is my least favorite event. It’s not exciting and thrilling, and it takes way too long. Alongside Layla, my moves look simple and childish.
Livvy thinks that I should like floor best because I rock at tumbling passes. I have a really powerful round-off, and I always win the handspring-a-thon. But then Livvy say floor is the one event you can express yourself in. I totally agree. Fitting, then, that Livvy chooses flowing, soft, and melodic music for my routine. Seriously, if I had wanted more ballet music, I would have taken ballet. If I could choose my own music, it would be fast, energetic, and as impulsive as music gets, just like me.
Livvy says the main reason she paired me with Layla was because she was going for the “opposites” look. In my opinion —which is usually disregarded— Livvy should have paired me with blond Nicole, or even Bethie—which would have been a total disaster, so I’m not exactly complaining. And she should have put the two bests, Layla and Manda, together. Then I wouldn’t look so bad.
But even I have to admit; Layla and I were perfect opposites. Not only in appearance, but also personality and style.
Livvy had told me not to be late because she wanted Layla and me to go over our routine one last time before the performance tomorrow. Then, she wanted to go over competition routines. Unfortunately for her, Layla, and myself, I was running late thanks to my mom’s old car finally breaking down. It just had to be today.
I burst into the gym before shedding my street clothes in the locker room. I didn’t want Livvy yelling at me for not coming. Livvy sighed and gestured for me to head back to the locker room.
“Car broke down,” I yelled over my shoulder as I turned back. “It wasn’t my fault today.”
I heard Kay giggle, but other than that no one said anything.
I changed and warmed-up and stretched as quickly as I’ve ever done. As soon as I jumped up from the hard cheer floor, Livvy shepherded Layla and me onto the big, springy, blue, Olympic-sized floor. We took our places in opposite corners and the music began.
The piece was titled “Luna et Soleil.” Moon and Sun. I think I was the moon because of my black hair and the dark of night, but it was impossible to tell.
I messed up a few times, interrupting the fluency of the routine to scan my surroundings. There wasn’t much to see. It didn’t matter if the routine wasn’t perfect, anyway. This routine wouldn’t be scored. Nothing bad could come out of it.
At one point I noticed Livvy; she was watching Layla intently, clearly enjoying the sight. She didn’t look to me until a tumbling pass, which I flew through.
I could never shake the thought that I was a disappointment to Livvy. A disgrace to the team. And especially in a routine intertwined with Layla. Layla seemed to fly through the whole thing. I seemed to take off, land, take off, land. It was embarrassing, but I knew the team was used to it.
I was overjoyed when the last chord of the music died out and Livvy directed us to vault—my personal best and favorite due to the exciting thrill of running and taking off to soar through the air.
“That was good,” Livvy assured me as I made my way to the vaulting box. “Not your best, but not your worst, either. And I know you’ll kick butt on vault.”
what is kind of puzzling is that even though I’m one of the best at vault, Layla always beats me at competitions. So does Manda. Sure, I can maintain third, but someday I really want to win big time. Like that’s ever going to happen.
We warmed up with handspring timers, as usual. But today was a good day. Livvy was going to work with us individually today.
By the time we moved on to beam, I was in a pretty good mood. Considering how much I hate and suck at beam, that’s a first.
Everyone tells me that the only reason I stink so much on the beam is that I’m too impatient. I can’t help but agree.
Beam is definitely the most graceful of the four events, and if there’s something I lack, it’s the grace and poise needed to master the challenging event. I have balance, at least. But seriously, how is it possible to flip on a four-inch-wide beam that’s four feet off the ground.
Layla, Manda, and Bethie —the three that are best at beam— got to start out with back handspring step outs, while the rest of us were stuck warming up with stupid cartwheels.
I swore as I fell for the sixth time in a row. Livvy sighed, but didn’t say anything.
“Such language,” Kay teased.
“What are you taking in school?” Nicole added. “Swearing-as-a-second-language?”
“French, actually,” I shot back. “And BTW, fuck means seal in French.”
“It’s un phoque,“ Bethie corrected. “And you said ‘shit’, not ‘fuck’, so it doesn’t matter.”
“Whatevs,” I waved her off impatiently. “I’ve made my point.”
“Which was?” Bethie asked. “Viviana, you had no point.”
I sighed. “Why can’t you call me ‘Viv’ or ‘Vivi’ like the rest of the world?”
“Because I don’t like to,” Bethie insisted. “Viviana sounds better.”
“Girls, enough chit-chat,” Livvy cut in. She clapped twice. “Chop, chop.”
I reluctantly turned back to my task, now of back-walkovers.
Heading back to the locker room, I listened to Layla, Kay and Nicole criticizing my stupid bars routine.
“You have to keep your toes pointed,” Layla insisted.
“And try to glide, not swing,” Kay added.
“And you need to work on your landing,” Nicole put in.
“Lightly land—“ they all chorus.
“—and stick it,” I snapped, cutting them off. “I know.” I waved them off and quickened my stride.
Prologue
A novel by Allison B. and Stephanie W.
Amanda
I hate bars. At the start, everyone is equal. When you start bars, you already have a score. A place. A standing. As defending all around state champ, I had to wait until last. I knew what I had to beat, but so did the judges. Bars is after the first nervous apprehension, but too long before floor. Floor is my favorite, ‘cause anything is possible. The requirements are nothing when you have so much space. Every other routine is custom built to please the judges. Safe. No mistakes. Totally boring. Livvy used to make me a perfect crowd pleasing floor routine. She gave up. I refuse to compromise the openness with a planned routine. The perfect floor routine conveys who you are, what you can be, and what you are capable of. You can’t plan feelings, so how does a planned routine work? People would tell me, “Amanda darling, I know you’re good at floor, but you can’t just go make it up out in front of the judges! What if you forget a requirement?” I hate requirements. They limit you, not improve you. The girls who end up winning are forced to take time from their more impressive moves to meet the requirements. Yes, that meant me. But it especially meant Layla.
Layla should be standing here. Last and all around champ. But she’s not for two reasons. First, she got pneumonia two days before last years state competition. Second, she quit the team with no warnings just ten days ago. She had missed her first practice in three years, and she wouldn’t answer our calls, even though she was home. The next day, she turned in a form. The form. After seven years of nearly flawless routines, Layla Newman quit gymnastics.
It really shook the team up. Not only was she the leader and motivator, she was the best. Highest scoring in vault, bars, and beam --everything but floor. She beat me once. I had followed a routine. It never happened again.
Now, I was the best on the team. Highest on vault, beam, and floor, though my total score is consistently a whole point behind what Layla could have scored.
To me though, the most baffling thing is why. Why didn’t Layla tell us she was going to quit? More importantly, why did she quit? Was it because I won States last year when she missed the competition? Was all this my fault? Livvy had summed it up pretty nicely; “Girls have quit before, but not determined and successful champions.”
These things kept running through my head as the girl before me got her scores. Average of 9.375. “Not bad,” I thought, “She’ll beat me, but Layla woulda scored at least two tenths better.”
I walked to the bars, suddenly furious. I suck at bars; it was common knowledge. An image of Layla filled my mind. Her only perfect 10 at bars, though it was her best event, the judges always seemed to find something wrong with her routine; bars was still usually her highest score. We all knew the routine; we learned every routine that scored 10. Livvy would kill me later, but I decided it was time to try something that wasn’t planned. I grabbed the bar more confidently than ever, knowing that for the first time ever I was going to vent my feelings on bars.
“Amanda! What were you thinking?” asked Olivia, our coach. “You know bars is your worst event, you can’t just improvise!”
“I didn’t improvise,” I said softly, I modified.”
“Modified what?! That wasn’t your routine.”
“Later!” I shushed her, “The scores!”
“But you”-- Livvy fell silent as the judges announced my scores. Average of 9.283. That was my best in over a year, before I had to bend so my toes didn’t hit the bar. It’s hard being a ninth grade 5 foot 6 gymnast. My score wasn’t great, but Livvy couldn’t complain. She shut up. Combined with my 9.118 vault, I was in 8th. That was good, as my bars score usually brings me down to 11th. If this kept up, I would definitely go to Regionals. The winner of each event plus the all around champion got to go. If one girl won two events, the next best all around gymnast would go too.
Despite Layla’s absence, we were doing okay, but not our best. Usually, we just tried to get the best all around score we could, as Layla would usually win two events, and I would win floor, allowing one girl who hadn’t won an event to go to Regionals. Now, without Layla to win two events, probably only the event-winners would go on, unless the champ also wins an event. Anyway, I would probably win floor, so I will go, and Nicole was second at bars, so she would at least practice with the team. I wouldn’t be alone. Only Viv, Nicole, and I were in the top 25, and Viv would quickly drop because of her worst events, beam and floor.
Not that I really cared this year. No one seemed to. We were doing fine, but without Layla, there seemed to be no point. We probably wouldn’t win, but who cared? Just one more thing to prove the taunts of the other gymnasts. We would fail without Layla.” But what was the point of winning without Layla? She really was the one who had gotten us this far. She was the peacemaker and the one who nagged us if we skipped practice. She should be here helping to cheer the rest of us on. It was like the only reason we had to perform is to please Layla.
I once read in a book that the one problem with miracles was that they don’t last. Watching Bethie fall off a practice beam, I realized it was true.
It had all seemed like a miracle that we were going to the State competition, but it didn’t last. Layla had quit. Our miracle ended abruptly, like a mirror being shattered with one hard punch.
Amanda
I hate bars. At the start, everyone is equal. When you start bars, you already have a score. A place. A standing. As defending all around state champ, I had to wait until last. I knew what I had to beat, but so did the judges. Bars is after the first nervous apprehension, but too long before floor. Floor is my favorite, ‘cause anything is possible. The requirements are nothing when you have so much space. Every other routine is custom built to please the judges. Safe. No mistakes. Totally boring. Livvy used to make me a perfect crowd pleasing floor routine. She gave up. I refuse to compromise the openness with a planned routine. The perfect floor routine conveys who you are, what you can be, and what you are capable of. You can’t plan feelings, so how does a planned routine work? People would tell me, “Amanda darling, I know you’re good at floor, but you can’t just go make it up out in front of the judges! What if you forget a requirement?” I hate requirements. They limit you, not improve you. The girls who end up winning are forced to take time from their more impressive moves to meet the requirements. Yes, that meant me. But it especially meant Layla.
Layla should be standing here. Last and all around champ. But she’s not for two reasons. First, she got pneumonia two days before last years state competition. Second, she quit the team with no warnings just ten days ago. She had missed her first practice in three years, and she wouldn’t answer our calls, even though she was home. The next day, she turned in a form. The form. After seven years of nearly flawless routines, Layla Newman quit gymnastics.
It really shook the team up. Not only was she the leader and motivator, she was the best. Highest scoring in vault, bars, and beam --everything but floor. She beat me once. I had followed a routine. It never happened again.
Now, I was the best on the team. Highest on vault, beam, and floor, though my total score is consistently a whole point behind what Layla could have scored.
To me though, the most baffling thing is why. Why didn’t Layla tell us she was going to quit? More importantly, why did she quit? Was it because I won States last year when she missed the competition? Was all this my fault? Livvy had summed it up pretty nicely; “Girls have quit before, but not determined and successful champions.”
These things kept running through my head as the girl before me got her scores. Average of 9.375. “Not bad,” I thought, “She’ll beat me, but Layla woulda scored at least two tenths better.”
I walked to the bars, suddenly furious. I suck at bars; it was common knowledge. An image of Layla filled my mind. Her only perfect 10 at bars, though it was her best event, the judges always seemed to find something wrong with her routine; bars was still usually her highest score. We all knew the routine; we learned every routine that scored 10. Livvy would kill me later, but I decided it was time to try something that wasn’t planned. I grabbed the bar more confidently than ever, knowing that for the first time ever I was going to vent my feelings on bars.
“Amanda! What were you thinking?” asked Olivia, our coach. “You know bars is your worst event, you can’t just improvise!”
“I didn’t improvise,” I said softly, I modified.”
“Modified what?! That wasn’t your routine.”
“Later!” I shushed her, “The scores!”
“But you”-- Livvy fell silent as the judges announced my scores. Average of 9.283. That was my best in over a year, before I had to bend so my toes didn’t hit the bar. It’s hard being a ninth grade 5 foot 6 gymnast. My score wasn’t great, but Livvy couldn’t complain. She shut up. Combined with my 9.118 vault, I was in 8th. That was good, as my bars score usually brings me down to 11th. If this kept up, I would definitely go to Regionals. The winner of each event plus the all around champion got to go. If one girl won two events, the next best all around gymnast would go too.
Despite Layla’s absence, we were doing okay, but not our best. Usually, we just tried to get the best all around score we could, as Layla would usually win two events, and I would win floor, allowing one girl who hadn’t won an event to go to Regionals. Now, without Layla to win two events, probably only the event-winners would go on, unless the champ also wins an event. Anyway, I would probably win floor, so I will go, and Nicole was second at bars, so she would at least practice with the team. I wouldn’t be alone. Only Viv, Nicole, and I were in the top 25, and Viv would quickly drop because of her worst events, beam and floor.
Not that I really cared this year. No one seemed to. We were doing fine, but without Layla, there seemed to be no point. We probably wouldn’t win, but who cared? Just one more thing to prove the taunts of the other gymnasts. We would fail without Layla.” But what was the point of winning without Layla? She really was the one who had gotten us this far. She was the peacemaker and the one who nagged us if we skipped practice. She should be here helping to cheer the rest of us on. It was like the only reason we had to perform is to please Layla.
I once read in a book that the one problem with miracles was that they don’t last. Watching Bethie fall off a practice beam, I realized it was true.
It had all seemed like a miracle that we were going to the State competition, but it didn’t last. Layla had quit. Our miracle ended abruptly, like a mirror being shattered with one hard punch.
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