Gravity

Chapter 7: The risk

Chapter 7: The risk

"On the floor, representing the Russian Federation, Aliya Mustafina."

Aly's eyes snapped up from the sports tape she was removing from her feet and over to the floor. She had completed all her routines and was waiting for the opportunity to talk to the Russian girl. Once she was done with her floor exercise, Aly would finally be able to do so. She didn't really need to say much. She just wanted to congratulate the girl for her great work at the qualifiers. That was it. Aly was Aliya's competitor, and it was alright for competitors to say that, right? Then again, she wouldn't mind discussing with the girl about gymnastics, Russia, the stars, physics or even the damn theory to what was inside Marsellus Wallace's briefcase. She just wanted to talk to her.

Truthfully, she missed Aliya. It had only been a couple of hours since she'd last heard her voice, but she missed it so much. She missed the way her name rolled off Aliya's tongue, and how she seemed to relish every moment she had the opportunity to say it. Aliya always dragged her words, so when she said her name, she gave it a throaty drawl that Aly had grown to love. Her English wasn't the best, but Aly certainly could listen to her speak for days on end if given the opportunity to.

She loved their conversations because Aliya was so intelligent, and she was simply enchanting. She would hold on to every word and sound uttered by Aliya, run it past her ears again and again before tucking it in safely at the back of her mind. She noticed every one of the girl's quirks; the twinkle in her eye at the mention of her country or gymnastics, the slight blush to her cheeks and bat of her eyelash when an unexpected compliment was thrown her way, or the ghost of a smile that appeared whenever Aly laughed. She pushed Aly's heart closer to the brink of falling into abyss of love with every word and every action. All of Aliya's insides tumbled out when they spoke. Aly was like her diary, noting all of the things she did or said, and registering every little shift in her emotions. Aly knew that she was one of the lucky few that had such unlimited access into the Russian's mind.

Aly hadn't felt like this in a long time. She sighed as she recalled the girl who used to have the same effect on her. She recalled her chestnut coloured hair as it was blown in the autumn wind, her expressive chocolate eyes that teased her relentlessly, and the way she led Aly on so harrowingly for two years. Aly loved her. She loved her beyond words. She loved the girl with all of her heart. She would go to bed at night replaying their conversations and supposed dates. Her heart fluttered every time she saw the girl's name pop up on MSN, or when her name flashed up on her phone. Aly loved her.

But she didn't love Aly. She'd lied to, manipulated and exploited Aly. She took Aly's heart, held it in a vice-like grip, and refused to let it go. She both enslaved and liberated Aly. She made Aly feel like a child on Christmas day, and at other times, cold and raw. She'd used her for attention and comfort, thinking that Aly would never leave her, regardless of how badly she got bruised. That's where she was wrong. That's where Keira Simmons had gotten her all wrong. Aly had walked out from that awful relationship, or friendship, whatever, battered and bruised, but all ready to live another day.

This day, Aliya was the one to hold Aly's heart in a vice-like grip.

"Aliya Mustafina from the Russian Federation, 14.433," the announcer boomed across the Arena.

Aly glanced over to Aliya, who was sitting on her bench, and tried to get the girl's attention. Aliya looked up from her bottle and smiled. That smile will be the death of me. Throwing her jacket on, Aly got up from her bench and walked over to Aliya. She tried to suppress the goofy smile that was threatening to surface and flicked her right wrist in an equally goofy wave, "Hey, Aliya. Great job out there!" Aliya pushed herself off of the bench and took Aly in her arms. Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh. Aliya pulled away and pecked her on both her cheeks, and whispered, "You as well, Raisman." Aliya winked and stood with her arms akimbo, as if daring Aly to ask her the question she so desperately wanted to ask.