Working out with Kinsley is a nice consolation to working with Coach Rodier. While my emphasis is bars, she is a beast on floor and vault. I still have a long way to go to be competitive in those events, but my floor in particular has improved a lot already with her pointers.
She sits on the sideline watching me as I go through the routine. It’s late afternoon and the gym is starting to clear out as gymnasts and coaches alike finish for the day.
Sweat trickles down the back of my neck as I hit my final pose. My chest heaves as I catch my breath. My front foot wobbles and then slides forward an inch.
“Feet drilled into the floor, Hannah,” Coach Rodier’s voice bellows from behind me.
I spin around to face him. I hadn’t realized he was still here, though I should have.
“Yes, Coach.” I wait, greedy for any more tidbits he might be willing to share. I once heard that the way you know a coach has given up on you completely is when they stop offering feedback. He still hasn’t agreed to coach me, but I’ll live in the hope that he hasn’t written me off yet either.
He walks off the gym floor without another word. Kinsley comes to stand next to me.
“Look at that. He doesn’t hate you after all.” She elbows me in the side.
One side of my mouth lifts in a half smile.
“That was really good,” she says. “I’d kill for your split leap.”
“Don’t do that. After spending the night hanging out at the jail, I can assure you it isn’t a place you want to go.”
“Oh good, we’re joking about it now because I have been holding insomany things today.” Her eyes lift as she grins.
“I hate you,” I say with a chuckle.
She hunches over with a laugh as we walk to our duffel bags in the back corner.
“Do you want to come over tonight? Skylar’s cooking and we’re doing a wine tasting.”
I arch a brow. “Wine tasting?”
I’ve seen their fridge and liquor cabinet, and they’re more vodka and mixer people.
“We bought five different bottles of merlot ranging from fifty dollars to six and we’re going to see if we can tell the difference between the fancy and cheap stuff.”
“Sounds fun,” I say, meaning it. I enjoyed the short stint staying at their place. Kinsley is all sass and outspoken, and her girlfriend Skylar is sweet and a little shy. They’re really cute together and they were so welcoming to me.
“So you’re in?” she asks in a tone that suggests she already knows I’m not coming.
“I need to finish moving my stuff into the rental. Another night? Maybe you two could come help me break in the new house?”
“You’re so legit, renting a whole house. So adult.” She lifts one shoulder and shoots me a smirk.
“It’s way more space than I need,” I admit.
“I can’t believe the rent is so cheap.”
“Well, it’s only available until the first of the year.”
“Fully furnished though, right?”
“Yeah, but unfurnished might have been better.”
“That bad?”
“The décor is…let’s go with outdated.” Cluttery is another good word for it. Every inch of wall and shelf space (at least what I saw before the cops showed up) is filled with what my father used to call “dustables.” The woman who owns it didn’t want the house to sit empty while she was gone for so long, but she also didn’t want anyone coming in and moving or changing things around. She would have been better off hiring a house sitter, but lucky for me she didn’t. It isn’t a long-term solution, but it will do for now.
“You could have just stayed with us, you know?”
