You see, the reason why my coach was so angry at me was because I was preparing for my first senior level meet. Yes, senior level. I’m Jessica Stevenson, and I’m fifteen years old. I’ve been in gymnastics since I was three. I took recreational gymnastics for a while, and when I turned six, I was asked to be on the junior team at my gymnastics club. Several years later, I was put on the regular team, and things got more serious after that. Gymnastics became my main interest, and I was doing it six days a week.
My mom saw how much I loved it, and I asked her if I could train with Vladimir Korpov. Okay, I know what you’re thinking. You bet my mom said ‘Sure, honey, we’ll move wherever you want’ and the whole family just got up and left our home. No, that is definitely not what happened. My parents actually were dead set against letting me train so seriously, and so far away. That is, until Vladimir Korpov moved his gym a few towns over from where we live. After endless begging, they finally caved in. Gymnastics became my top priority, and I had tutors come in three days a week instead of going to regular school. My coach was very strict and demanding, but I got used to his way of doing things. He’s made me improve. He’s the reason I’m past junior competitions.
"Will you please tell me why you were late?" my coach asked again.
"Oh, sorry. Um, well, my history tutor stayed late to explain a project to me, and we really didn’t realize the time. I’m really really outrageously sorry, and I’ll never do it again," I said, slightly giving him the puppy-dog lip.
His face suddenly broke into a smile. "Okay. I’m only giving you the benefit of the doubt because you were late because of your education. But I don’t want you to do it again. And if you do it again for a different reason, I’m going to make you do conditioning for the whole day. And stop with the puppy-face."
I giggled. My coach was very serious, but he did have a relaxed side. "Can I start with my floor routine?" I asked.
My coach's face was serious again. "Yes you may. Now remember your form. The judges next week are not going to be lenient if they see a mistake. So keep your routines polished."
***"Good luck, Jessica," my dad said the next week.
"Thanks."
"Knock ‘em dead," my brother Peter said.
"Just don’t hurt yourself while you’re at it," my mom said with a smile. "Honey, I want you to know that we are so proud of you. We hope you do well."
"Thanks. Hopefully," I replied, trying to smile. My family walked to their seats in the stands. I looked around the arena. I couldn’t believe that I would be competing against world famous gymnasts. This was by far the most amazing thing that had ever happened to me. I knew I wasn’t going to be shown on television because I wasn’t famous or anything. Maybe if I did well they would show me. I sure hoped so. That probably won’t happen though, I told myself.
***"I can’t wait until this is over," I moaned to my coach. Everything had gone horrible so far. I had fallen off the beam, and messed up the landings on both of my vaults. I think I was in thirty-eighth place or something like that.
"You’re doing fine for your first senior competiton," my coach said. "You know, at my first big meet, I did horrible. I fell off the high bar, hit my legs on my pommel horse routine, and fell on my behind in my floor routine. I was nervous, and you’re nervous. But floor and bars are your strongest events. You will do good."
I bit my lip. "I hope I do." I watched on the floor exercise as Elena Moracelli finished her routine. She received a score of a 9.685. Elena is one of my role models. She is such a great gymnast. As she walked by me, I stared in awe. Elena Moracelli just walked by me! Wow!
Soon, it was my turn on floor. I saluted to the judges and stepped onto the spring floor. My music started, and I began to dance gracefully along the edge of the floor. I executed a round-off back handspring double back tuck perfectly. As my routine went on, the crowd seemed to get into it. My front layout, full twist was as perfect as my first pass. The rest of my routine went smoothly. As I struck my ending pose, the crowd cheered loudly.
"Very good, Jessica!" Vladimir said as he crushed me in a bear hug.
"I’m just glad I didn’t fall off the floor exercise," I exclaimed with a giggle.
"Jessica Stevenson’s score for floor: a 9.7!"
"Oh my gosh!" I exclaimed. I jumped up and down. I had actually beat Elena! This was awesome! If no one beat me, I could actually get a gold medal! More floor routines followed, and everyone did well, but no routines were as good as mine or Elena’s. "I won! I can’t believe it!"
"I’m proud of you," my coach said. "Now go out and do as good on bars."
I felt optimistic about my bar routine. Even if I did horrible, I still had an individual medal. I sprayed my grips with water, and began my routine with a glide kip. My routine was going okay until one of my release moves. I let go of the bar, and I instantly knew that my body positioning was all wrong. To my relief, I just barely caught the low bar. Whew, that was close, I thought. I finished the routine and stuck my dismount. I walked over back to Vladimir.
"You almost missed the bar, that time, but you were lucky. Next time, release the bar like this," he said, demonstrating with his hands.
"Okay," I replied. I grabbed my water bottle and drank it up in no time.
"Jessica Stevenson’s score for the uneven parallel bars: a 9.12." My score wasn’t that great, but I was still happy. I had been through my first senior meet. I had survived. When the last gymnast finished her routine, I looked at the standings. I had come in seventh place on bars, and nineteenth all-around.
Finally, it was time for the individual event medal ceremony.
As I stepped onto the 1st place step, I had never felt so happy in my life. Elena stepped on the step right below me. This was the time to say something to her, to thank her for inspiring me. I tapped her on the shoulder.
"Yes?" she asked, pushing back a strand of dark hair.
"Um, I’m Jessica Stevenson, and I, well, I just want to tell you that I really admire you, and that-"
Elena laughed. "Yeah, you admire me. Don’t try to make me feel better that you beat me. Please. It just won’t work," she said, rolling her eyes.
I stood there, stunned. What was with Elena? Why was she being so snobby? I decided to try again. "I’m sorry, I just-"
"You just nothing. Get a life," she said, turning around. Suddenly, I felt angry. What gave her the right to talk to me that way? Forget about Elena, I silently said. You’re getting your medal. The head judge came forward to give us the medals. The third place winner looked really happy. However, Elena did not. After she got her medal, she just looked annoyed. Finally, the judge walked in front of me. I bent my neck down as she put the medal around my neck. She handed me a bouquet of flowers.
"Great job," she said as she shook my hand.
"Thank you," I replied with a smile. So what if I hadn’t won my first competition. As I looked into the crowd and saw my happy family, I realized that I was where I wanted to be and this was the only thing that I needed.
1 year later:
...Elena Moracelli’s coach eloped to Siberia, so she needed to find a new one. She indeed did find one, although the coach did not result in her winning more gold medals. Fortunately, Elena tried out to make the Olympic team, and she placed twelfth. On top of that, gymnastics magazines are suddenly buzzing about her bad personality...
Meanwhile...Jessica Stevenson began winning most of the senior competitions she competed in. She made the Olympic team, and won a gold medal on floor, and a bronze on bars...
So what did you think? I hope you liked it!