Balance (Off Balance Book 1) by Lucia Franco

through national competitions with a minimum score. Since I’ll be sixteen in a couple of months, I need an elite coach who knows how to train higher level gymnasts and create routines that work with the elite scoring system. There’s a certain level of difficulty, artistry, and execution where by combining skills, it gives me a higher start value. I continued training the way I did back home because a lot of the senior and junior elite skills are similar, but I couldn’t advance, so technically I can’t be deemed elite just yet.”
    “Just shut up and stop with the pity party. If he has no choice, which it sounds like he doesn’t, it’s obvious he’s saying that shit on purpose to motivate you. You know you don’t suck.”
    “Motivate me? Telling your new athlete they aren’t up to your ridiculous standards and may never be is motivation to you? And seriously, Avery, if you’d seen these girls and what they’re capable of doing, you’d feel worthless too.”
    “He’s purposely messing with your head and you’re allowing it to happen. Brush that shit off and go in tomorrow and act like he never said any of it. Hold your head high and show him what you’re made of. I bet fish lips tells all the new girls that.”
    I giggled at her fish lips comment with her. “Why do you keep calling him fish lips?”
    “Excuse me, Coach Kissable.” She chuckled. “He reminds me of Tom Hardy, and Tommy has fish lips.”
    Oh, my God. “You know, when you put it that way it’s kind of hot. Now I won’t think of a blow fish every time you say fish lips, I’ll think of Tom.”
    “See?” She laughed. “I told you.”
    I sighed, bringing me back to the moment. “I really hope I can prove him wrong.”
    “You can and you will. It’s just like when your mom talks down to you.”
    I paused, thinking about what she just said. “You’re right, but I really don’t want to hate my coach. Not that I hate my mom, but you know what I mean.”
    “How can you hate a face like that? He reminds me of a brooding, mysterious guy with a dark side to him. I bet his body is even better.”
    I rolled my eyes, smiling at her comment. I wondered where the hell she came up with this stuff. “I can say with all honesty that I haven’t even given his body a thought. I was too stressed about performing today to look.” I lied. Of course I had.
    “Yeah, okay,” she responded sarcastically. “Whatever you say, but maybe you should take a Xanax before you go in tomorrow, you clearly need it.”
    “No way. That’ll only make me tired and I can’t have that. I need to be on my A game, remember? Speaking of pills, I need to take some Motrin before I forget. I’m going to be sore as shit tomorrow.” I reached under the bathroom sink and grabbed the white bottle that housed my favorite little orange pills.
    “I was only joking with you.”
    “Ha.” I shook two orange pills into my hand and filled the glass I kept by my bathroom sink with water. Swallowing back the pills, I said, “Thanks, Avery, for talking to me. This wasn’t how I expected today to go at all. Not even close. I feel like a fool for thinking it would go any other way.”
    “You mean, listening to you bitch? Anytime!” Her smile seeped into her words, making me grin in return. I wasn’t sure what I’d do without this girl.
    Shaking my head, I said, “I’m gonna go. I have to be up at five thirty.”
    “Ugh. Good luck with that. Later, babe.”
    “Later.”
     
    F IVE MINUTES . I was pretty sure that was how long I slept before my obnoxious alarm clock went off. I had to do a double take to make sure I read the clock correctly.
    Dear God, save me.
    Sitting up, my legs dangled over my bed as I rubbed my blurry eyes. My back was tight, as were my shoulders and thighs. It wasn’t too bad though, but maybe that was due to the Motrin I had taken before bed. Only time would tell.
    Alfred would be here in forty-five minutes to pick me up, so I quickly brewed a cup