Chapter 3
Teagan
“Two hundred,” I pant as my back flops onto the mat, my core aching as I end my workout with two hundred sit-ups.
Today’s workout consisted of core and back, as I’m keeping up with my personal fitness so that I don’t fall off track.
And knowing that in two days from now–on Monday–I’ll be able to actually train my gymnastics skills is giving me life. It’s been a little over two weeks since I last performed any skill, and to say I feel not like myself is an understatement.
The excitement to flip and twist my body again is real.
Despite my lack of enthusiasm to teach, I’m going to give it my all and try to be positive.
Minutes later, I pull the brim of my hat down as I begin my fifteen-minute walk from the private gym to my condo.
It’s part of the reason I chose to live downtown, seeing as there was an exclusive gym where athletes or celebrities could work out without the worry of paparazzi or unwanted attention.
The warm April weather has stuck around, with the sun shining and trees blooming. Everything’s coming back to life, and there’s a tiny part of me that feels like that could be true for me too. Maybe this job will lead me to my end goal of getting back on the team.
I decide to stop at a local coffee shop on my way home because there’s truly nothing better than an iced coffee that I didn’t make for myself.
My iced brown sugar espresso adds to my oddly good mood, and I practically smile the rest of my way home. I even smile at the security guards and say hello, despite how I usually keep my head down to avoid small talk, because I haven’t been in the mood for it.
In my condo, I take an everything shower, then wrap up in my black silk robe and make a chicken quinoa salad for lunch.
Once I’m done with my lunch, though, uneasiness washes over me. I’ve worked out. I’ve had lunch. The house is clean. I’m caught up on my favorite reality show, Singles in Saint Lucia. It’s three o’clock and my friends aren’t supposed to be here for another two hours.
What the hell do I do with myself?
I could have a dance party, something I used to do once I was done cooking and cleaning, but the idea seems lackluster right now.
The silence is somehow louder than ever, reminding me that I have nothing else to do. As someone who’s always had something to do, all of this free time is more stressful than it should be.
And just like that, the good mood I was in fades as boredom replaces it.
I’m excited that my best friends, Kaya and Clara, will be coming over tonight, the first time in months due to everyone’s conflicting schedules.
We do our best to get together when we can, and when I told them over the phone what had happened at the qualifiers meet a week ago, they made it work to both be here today.
I have two hours before they get here, but until then, I’ll be rotting away on my phone. It’s been my hyperfixation lately, going through my tagged posts from fans and reading comments.
So, just like every other day since I “retired,” I turn my speaker on, hit play on my playlist, and lie on the couch, scrolling.
In my roaming of social media, I click on Coach Samuels’s page. I know I shouldn’t, but I’ve been checking it daily to see what I’m missing out on. There’s a new post, a group shot of the girls at the training facility, the familiar faces smiling back at me.
If I hadn’t been let go, I would be in that photo. I would be training with them.
A loud knock interrupts me before I throw my phone across the room.
I push my irritation to the back of my mind the best that I can and jump off the couch. I skitter across the hardwood floors, making my way to the door, and swing it open.
I don’t even have time to say hi or let them in as they both tackle me into a hug.
“We’ve missed you,” they exclaim, squeezing me tightly.
When we pull apart, Clara immediately senses that something’s up.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I’m fine.” I try to play it off, but I must not be convincing enough because they both look at me like I’m full of shit.
Kaya pins me with a look. “Bullshit,” she deadpans.
“That fucking prick of a coach posted a photo of the team on his page. It reminded me how I should be there, training for the Olympics. And I don’t need a lecture on how I shouldn’t be stalking the team’s page ’cause it’ll only upset me.
I know this already. I just can’t help it.
” I sigh, battling a mix of anger and helplessness.
Anger because this is all wrong, and helplessness because there’s nothing I can do to fix it sooner than I’d like.
“I’m so sorry, Teags.” Clara squeezes my shoulder reassuringly. “He’s an asshole, and you don’t deserve to be going through what you are. I understand why you’re determined to go back, though.”
“What Clara said, but also, you really should stop checking his page. That scum of a human did you wrong, and while the goal is to get back on the team, checking to see what you’re missing serves you no value.
So, do what does gives you value, which is kicking ass at this new job you’re starting and proving to them why they should take you back,” Kaya says, her voice fierce and motivating.
“Ugh, you’re right. I’m sorry. I just… I don’t know. It’s so hard to let go of, you know?” I reply, my voice rising as frustration takes over.
“You’re allowed to feel angry, sad, all of it.
Because I would be too. It’s fucked up and not fair to you.
But they’re not going to win. You’re going to get back on the team and crush it at the Olympics next year,” Clara says, removing her hand from my shoulder as she raises it in the air triumphantly.
“Hell yeah, you are, and we’re going to be there to enjoy every second of it,” Kaya assures me.
“Exactly,” Clara confirms, smiling brightly.
“But in the meantime, I’ll slash his tires if you want me to,” Kaya says, making all three of us laugh.
The laughter slowly dissipates the anger, replacing it with comfort as I’m finally reunited with my best friends.
While yes, fuck Coach Samuels, I can’t let him take away more from me than he already has. So, with a deep breath, I let go of the rage the image sparked in me, choosing to focus on the fact that my girls are here for me.
Clara clears her throat. “I, uh, hope that’s not what you’re wearing tonight, Teags.”
I look down at my robe, then finally take in what they’re wearing. I didn’t notice the sparkly yellow halter top and jeans Clara dons, or the pale green silk minidress Kaya has on because I was wrapped up in my anger over that photo.
“I thought we were staying in?” I ask.
Kaya shakes her head, her black hair swishing across her shoulders. We agreed to a cozy night in, so I’m confused as to why they’re dressed for a night out.
“We figured you need to get out of the house after all the bullshit you’ve been through.”
“But—” I protest.
“No buts,” Clara cuts me off. “It’ll be like old times when we went to the ESA together. Remember when we used to get ready to go to house parties together? It was always better than actually going out.”
“You guys are already ready, though,” I point out.
“We still need to do our hair and makeup,” Kaya says.
“Please,” Clara begs, her hands pressed together in prayer. “It will be so much fun, and you’ll thank us later.”
With my new job starting Monday and my desire to do something, paired with the fact that I haven’t seen my girls in months, I decide to go with the change of plans.
“Fine,” I say as a smile plays on my lips, happy to be with my girls and recreating old times.
Maybe tonight will be exactly what I need.