"Karen," Bentley said from the opposite end of the vault runway. "You're up."
I kept my eyes on the apparatus in front of me and not on Bentley. The vault, which resembled a giant tongue from a distance, was insanely dangerous at my level. I had to focus on what I was doing or I'd break my neck. Today, we'd moved on from landing on mats stacked in the pit to real competition landing mats. I quickly visualized the Yurchenko double full vault, closing my eyes briefly, and then took off at a fast run. I had learned a Yurchenko vault when I was eight years old, but since then, it had evolved to include a layout backflip and not just one twist, but now two.
It was scary because you had to do a round-off, which is like a cartwheel, but landing with both feet together on the end of the springboard. Then you dove backward onto the vault table (aka—giant tongue). The benefit of this style of vault—going on backward—was that it allowed smaller gymnasts like me to get a bigger push off the apparatus, which meant I could get much higher, which led to more flips and twists and essentially more difficulty points from the judges.
My feet pounded the runway, adrenaline rushing through me, overtaking any trace of fear I'd had about landing on the regular mats instead of the soft safety of the foam pit. I hit the springboard in just the right spot and dove backward toward the vault table and got an awesome push, giving me all the power I needed to complete the one and a half backward flip with two twists. My knees bent at just the right time as I touched the landing mat, ignoring the sting traveling from my ankles all the way to my hips.
I held the landing, not making a single movement, my insides screaming for me to jump up and cheer, maybe run a victory lap around the gym. But I played it cool, not even looking at Bentley as I walked off the mat.
"Beautiful, Karen. Keep it up and we'll work on adding an extra half twist," Bentley said.
Oh my God! My mouth twitched fighting a smile. Maybe Blair was right. Maybe I had acquired some superpowers recently. Upgrading my vault difficulty was not something I needed for UCLA, so maybe this was a sign? Maybe Bentley and I were on the same page.
[IF YOU LIKED THIS STORY PLEAST VOTE!]
YOU ARE READING
Letters to Nowhere #1 (Completed!)
Teen FictionI've gotten used to the dead parents face. I've gotten used to living with my gymnastics coach. I've even adjusted to sharing a bathroom with his way-too-hot son. Dealing with boys is not something that's made it onto my list of experiences as of ye...
