difference between recreational classes and team classes. Both were taught the same skills, but team trained more hours a week and focused on the smallest of details. In the end, those details could make or break you. There was commitment and motivation involved, too. Not just from the gymnasts, but from the parents as well. The financing, traveling, and attitude were brutal. Team was much more grueling but also very rewarding.
I performed my routine a handful of times more before I mustered the nerve to ask Coach to watch. It wasn’t my best practice—I could tell by my jittery movements and racing heart, that had nothing to do with my actual routine and everything to do with the intimidating Russian and three hours of sleep. I felt like I was competing for a spot on the US World team and everything relied heavily on this moment.
This was my chance to prove I was ready for elite.
Konstantin stood there near the side of the bars, his eyes trained solely on me, and showing no emotion at all. I thought for sure I was about to be sick. It was a blank stare, and honestly, I wasn’t sure if I’d rather that or to see his face fall. My heart was in my throat and all the noise faded away.
Shit. I was so nervous.
A bars routine can last anywhere from thirty to forty-five seconds, mine was thirty-six, and that was simply because of my level and what I was capable of doing. A great deal of training and conditioning went into a bar routine. Most people never realized how short they actually were. After being captivated by jaw dropping release skills and eye-popping combination sequences, it was easy to forget it wasn’t even one-minute long.
As I performed my routine, it felt like an eternity of wishing and praying I’d catch the bar, hit my handstands, legs together, and didn’t wobble or bend my arms. I mentally chanted to myself, I got this , repeatedly with every little element before the dismount happened.
“Once more,” he ordered before I could catch my breath. After I chalked up my grips and did my routine again, he dipped his chin and said, “When you get to vault, follow the same instructions,” and then walked off. I had no idea if I did well or not, and there was no gauging his thoughts either. He was like a slab of concrete.
“Don’t stress—he’s always like that.” I looked over at the voice beside me. “You’ll never know what he’s thinking no matter how hard you try. I swear, it’s his goal to make you feel like you suck at life.” I breathed a sigh of relief knowing it wasn’t just me. “I’m Holly, by the way.”
I smiled politely. Hayden’s twin. “Adrianna. And thanks for the heads up. It doesn’t help that I’m nervous as it is, but the way he acts puts me on edge.”
“Oh, that’s how he normally is. You’ll get use to it, we all have.”
Note to self: His default personality is dick. Got it.
“Hopefully it doesn’t take long. He made me feel like it was the sloppiest routine ever.”
Holly laughed. “We all went through it and had the same sentiments. Kova has a keen eye, so while there were probably things you did mess up on, he can spot talent through it.”
“Why do you call him Kova? I thought his name was Konstantin.”
She shrugged. “It’s just what he goes by. None of us call him by his real name.”
Interesting.
“Are you from here?” I asked curiously.
She nodded. “I’ve been with World Cup for years. We used to live here, but my dad was offered a job in Ohio he couldn’t refuse. He bought a small townhouse and moved there while my mom, Hayden, and I stayed back so we could train with Kova. My mom left once we hit sixteen though, because she missed him a lot. She was nervous to leave us, but luckily we have friends and family nearby if we need anything.”
I knew in the general public it was absurd for parents to allow their children to train alone at such a young age. It wasn’t uncommon for us to go to summer training camp in Texas for
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