The Odd Ballerz by Ruthie Robinson

she’d said she sucked. She did.
    Her time in the forties was the only bright spot in her efforts, when she wasn’t swaying on her feet. And
what the hell
had been his first thought, at seeing her rock from side to side as she talked to herself. Talking to herself wasn’t unusual, or at least it wasn’t new. She’d talked to herself on Monday, but that swaying thing. Wow. A conundrum was Jones for sure; a puzzle of speed and falling horror and whatever else, but a conundrum that had improved.
    Yes, Jones was better today. Millimeters was the change he was measuring here, but better nonetheless, and even funnier was that she seemed at her best when he was riding her ass, when he was in her face, challenging her. He knew with some kids a type of in-your-face coaching style worked best, he knew that from experience; but for others, it could cause major harm. The trick in coaching, or any type of teaching, he thought, was in matching up the correct motivational style with the correct kid.
    Jones was moving away from the group now, toward the restrooms to retrieve her gear, he supposed, as Harris had just dismissed them for the evening and maybe now was a good time to talk to her again. He had questions that needed answers.
    While he waited for her, he turned his attention to the boys making their way to their parents’ cars for the trip home. Everything had gone according to plan, as it always did and it was two days down, and four more days of camp to go.
    “Good job today, Luke,” he said to Jones’s twin in the uncoordinated department as he walked past.
    “Thanks, sir,” Luke said, his smile tentative. It was always tentative with this kid.
    “Good job,” he said to Gabe, who was passing him as well.
    “Thanks, sir,” he said.
    Z stood for a while longer, offering up a few more goodbyes and other words of encouragement as more of the boys streamed past. It wasn’t much longer before the one he was waiting for exited the restrooms. He stood in between her car and the restrooms, so there was not way she’d miss him.
    “Coach,” she said, surprised to find him loitering about. It was his camp, so he could do whatever he liked, she guessed, fighting against her desire to stare. It was too easy to get lost in the beauty of his athletically built form.
    “Jones,” he said, falling into step beside her. “You were better today,” he said.
    “Thanks,” she said.
    “Did you play any sports in school?” he asked.
    “Me? What? When?” she said to his out of the blue question.
    “Middle school, high school, either or both. Any college?”
    “No college, PE in middle school and a little bit in high school. Why?”
    “Curious,” he said.
    “Right. I know what
that
means,” she said, chuckling.
    “Okay, I’ll bite. What does it mean?” he asked.
    “It
means
, what the hell is this?” she said, pointing to herself, chuckling. “I’ve noticed you watching me. You did a good job of hiding your shock at my lack of athletic abilities. I’ll give you credit for that. But now it’s how? Why? And what to do now with me huh ’cause I’m terrible right, that’s what you’re thinking,” she said, chuckling. “I suck at sports, as I told you in the beginning. It’s not my fault you didn’t believe me.”
    “You have it and me all figured out,” he said, coming to a stop, forcing her to stop too. He met her eyes with his straight, no-nonsense gaze. This was the serious Coach Z talking now, she thought.
    “Yes, that’s true, and you
did
warn me,” he said, staring into her eyes. “You aren’t very coordinated, which surprises me, given your sister. But even allowing for that, it doesn’t explain the amount of falling that you do. I’ve never seen anything like it. It was better today than Monday, a small improvement, but still an improvement,” he said, using his thumb and pointer finger to show her just how small her improvement had been.
    “And your speed is both equally good and confusing;