take any more. Kova's concern over Katja pulling away was just his guilty complex rearing its ugly, deceitful little head and nothing more.
I couldn't comprehend how he could go from being with me, touching me, kissing me, and saying what he did, to acting this way with Katja. I had to wonder what lies he told himself to make it all okay in his head…and what lies he fed her.
Seventeen
"All right, ladies, the Parkettes meet is in five days, which means we have four days to make sure your routines are solid and tight and there is no room for error. Yes?"
I nodded to myself, staring at my chalk covered fingers as I tightened my wristbands.
"Prepare to be pushed this week. Prepare to be disciplined and meet the demands your coaches ask of you. Suffer now and tomorrow you will reap what others cannot. It puts you one step closer to your goal, and goals should never be easy to obtain."
As much as I didn't want to agree with him, Kova was right. He was always right. He had a sixth sense about gymnastics that made me forget every strife in my life that could set me back. It's what made him a better coach above the rest. His words hit right where I needed them—in my gut—and lit a fire in my veins. They gave me hope and inspiration and changed my entire outlook. I glanced at each one of my teammates. Eyes glued to him as they soaked in his motivational speech. They felt it like I did.
"If you cannot feel your muscles screaming in pain, then you are not working hard enough. Your mind will tell you to stop, that you had enough. Only then should you push harder and give it more than you thought possible. Trust me. You will surprise yourself."
This practice was the first one since returning from the holidays, and I knew it was going to be grueling. Any practice before and after any break was usually the hardest, yet I was eager for the workout today. I needed the release, the conditioning only an asshole of a coach could give my body. While I'd exercised back home, a regular workout at the gym didn't cut it.
"Your only limit is yourself."
I took a deep breath and inhaled the dusty powder into my lungs. It revived me. It gave me life. God, I loved being at practice and I couldn't wait to start. His words were an elixir. They smoothly poured through my veins as I flexed and pointed my toes, rolling my ankles around.
"Okay, let us break." Just as I turned to walk way, Kova said, "Adrianna?"
I glanced over my shoulder. "Yes?"
"You have tutoring today and then therapy on your Achilles, correct?"
"Yes," I confirmed. "I have a full schedule today."
"Tonight, after practice is over, we will continue with your stretching therapy for an hour before you leave."
I groaned in the back of my throat and walked over to floor with the rest of the girls. That I was not looking forward to.
"Not sure why you're practicing with us today since you're not going to the meet, Ana," Reagan said with her nose stuck up in the air as classical floor music began to play in the background.
"I still have to practice regardless, Reagan. And, I am going to the meet."
Her brows shot up. "Since when?"
I grinned from ear to ear, happy the news threw her off. "Since Kova suggested it at my dad's New Year's Eve party. Ask Holly, she was there. Even Hayden. I'll be there cheering you on."
Reagan's nose scrunched up. She scowled and rolled her toes to crack them, then snapped her neck from side to side, all while glaring at me.
"Ladies, get moving!" Kova yelled.
We formed a straight line and walked along the edge of the floor. I stood behind Holly, swinging my arms up and around and front to back to loosen my joints. I lightly jogged with my knees high to my chest before transitioning into sashays. I shot a quick glance at Kova, I was curious to see the mood he was in, but he paid me no attention.
With enough space between each gymnast and my arms out to my sides, I stepped into a front kick—leg straight in the forward kick—until my leg came down and I shifted into back kicks—this time with my knee bent and head thrown back. We completed a variation of different warm-up skills, numerous ballet inspired ones, which went on