Hiding From Truth(being edited)

Chapter 4

"Tighten up! I want that release move flawless. If you get it right, it looks beautiful," Coach Dave says Monday at the morning practice. I make my body tighten up and continue my bar routine. After three more giants, I dismount with a double twisting layout.

"Pretty good. I want to bump up the difficulty level of that dismount if we polish up the rest. You can definitely go beyond that," Coach Dave says while I chalk up my hands to go again.

Over on vault, Jordyn is working with Coach Megan and a few other of my teammates are on floor and beam with other coaches. As the ones they're taking to the trials, Jordyn and I do most of our practice separate with Coach Dave or Megan.

I jump into a kip and cast into a squat on. I usually do toe-hechts up to the high bar, but I really just wanted to nail my release move right now.

I push off the lower bar and onto the high bar and cast myself into a giant. I do three, then let go of the bar half-way through my fourth one. I stay a tight muscle while I flip midair. I land my hands hard on the bar and I feel a rip begin to tear on the outer side of my palm, a most unusual place for one as well.

I barely hold on with my hands grasped tight on the wooden cylinder.

"Better. I want more swing after you land though. Do it again." I do and face plant on the mat.

"Again," Coach Dave's voice rings in my head, "I know you are strong enough. Just hold on to the bar and block out any distractions."

I go for the release move and just barely grab hold of the bar and shove myself into a big swing that sets me up for my next release move to the low bar. I finish out the routine, keeping a tight body and rigid focus.

"Nice," Coach Dave claps, "Let's see that again."

By the time practice is over, I want to collapse in the locker room.

"Dave was really being tough on you on bars," Jordyn notices.

"Yeah, but I needed that," I say, opening my locker and pulling out my t-shirt and jeans. I go to the two showers and claim one before anyone else gets there. I peel my leo off and put my shower flip flops on. I love the warm water, but I only take a two minute shower to get the sweat off me and the chalk.

After, I throw out my contacts and put on my glasses. In my boring school clothes, I look just like Elise. No one would suspect this girl to be a gymnast. Except for the thick arm muscles protruding from my shirt, but I pull my sweatshirt on over them.

"Ready for school?" Mom asks as I plop into her car.

"Yes," I say.

"How was fancy writing class?" Isabel asks when I get to school.

"Awesome but I feel like my fingers will fall off from writing," Not a total lie. My fingers did feel like I could touch them and they would fall off my hands.

"Nice," Isabel says, a smirk on her face, "Did you sweat to?" She motions to my untamed hair.

"Haha, no. I just don't try to get bed head out of my hair," Again, not a complete lie.

"I mean, I don't try either, but it's bad today," She laughs.

"No, it isn't," I insist. We take out our math books and binders from out lockers and go to class.

"After school, we have a track meet, and I am anchor!" Bell boasts her relay team position.

"Nice!" I high five her.

"I wish you would do track. You're an amazing runner. You might even be a faster sprinter then me. I know you're a better distance runner," Isabel nudges me.

"I don't have time for sports. I just do my own physical activity at home," I say.

"What are you possibly busy with?" Isabel asks.

"Homework. I get a lot of it from my extra writing class. Plus, you know how much my mom values family time. It literally takes up the whole day," I hate lying to my school best friend, and I had toyed with telling her before, I just wasn't sure if Isabel would take my elite gymnastics career seriously. She definitely wouldn't be able to picture me in the fancy leos. She had said so when I told her I did gymnastics when I was young-another lie I am not proud of.

"Elise, you zoned on me again. Is it a math thing? Because I am starting to see a trend of zoning when math comes around," Isabel prods me with her pencil.

"What? Sorry. No, you know I like math. It just happens to be in the time of day I start zoning out. Yes, I don't care if I start zoning second period," I add when I see Isabel raise an eyebrow at my "zone out time."

"Come in!" Mrs. Ann yells from her classroom and the class files in. Isabel, Sara, Margret, and I all share this class together. It's nice to have at least one with them because I miss homeroom, which they are also all in.

"Welcome, I am starting with passing out your tests from last week," Mrs. Ann walks around, placing papers on our desks. I look down at the 88% marked on my paper and bite my lip in frustration. I relate math to bars in many ways.

Math is my favorite class, but I have the worst grades in it. I like knowing you can always get an answer from something and it will be the same all the time. 

"Alright, take a look at the ones you got wrong and fix them in blue pen for the class period. If you finish corrections or don't have any, just turn your paper over and take out homework, or do extra problems from this past lesson on page 614. Got it?" It was the same instruction after every test and I usually took the whole class period fixing mistakes.

"We're done!" Margret gasps as we leave math, "I thought it would never end!"

"Me too," Sara agrees. Julie brushes passed us with a sign on her back that says, "PUNCH ME!!!!!" in all caps, then at the bottom, "BUT NOT TOO HARD: CRY BABY ALERT!"

I know I should tell her about it, but I then envisioned her blaming me for putting it on her back and me wanting to act like a hero for telling her, so I leave her to her misfortune.

I mean, don't ask me how she gets these crazy, twisted ideas about people in her head.

One look at Isabel's face and I can tell she took part in Julie's sign plastered back.

"Bell," I whispered, a grin on my face. I nudge my head toward Julie, and she gives me a sheepish nod. I scoff and shake my head.

"Oh, come on it's funny," Isabel says.

"Yes, but mean," Sara chimes in.

"It's actually hysterical and I can't believe you did it," I laugh. 

After practice that night, Coach Megan tells Jordyn and I that a reporter and photographer from GymnasticsWeekly wanted to interview us at morning practice on Wednesday. We both cheer and laugh happily at the news.

"I can't believe it! I mean, we've been interviewed before, but I'm still so excited!" Jordyn gushes. I nod enthusiastically.

I jump into my mom's car and tell her the news.

"Yay!" She says, giving me a high five, "That's so exciting! Do we have to be there early on Wednesday?"

"Megan said she would give us all the information tomorrow," I inform my mom.

"Okay, good."

That night I stay up late texting Jolene, overjoyed with the news.