Authors: Beverly Lewis
“Wanna help me write in my diary?” Jenna kissed her cat on the top of her soft head. “Do you?”
The cat blinked her eyes, uncaring.
“You curl up here, and I’ll write.” She positioned the cat in her lap, but Sasha didn’t stay put. She bounded down off Jenna’s lap and over to the bed.
“Okay, be that way.” Unlocking her secret diary, Jenna was ready to record the events of her disastrous day.
Tuesday, November 24
Dear Diary,
Thanksgiving is only two days away. But I don’t feel very thankful this year. My parents can’t understand why I don’t care about getting a baby brother. I guess they have no clue. Things are perfectly fine the way they are . . . just the three of us.
On top of everything else, I’m having trouble with my aerial cartwheel, something I’ve never flubbed before—not since I first learned how. It’s gotta be the baby thing. I just can’t concentrate very well! But I won’t give up, and I won’t let Coach Kim and Tasya down.
What am I going to do?
Only the Best
Chapter Eight
Thanksgiving Day was filled up with relatives and friends at her father’s Korean church. The coolest thing to happen was Livvy’s arrival, just in time for supper. The girls sat with other teenagers, eating noodles and kimchi leftovers, talking and laughing together.
Jenna introduced Livvy to her Korean pals as her “best all-American friend. She’s an incredible figure skater . . . headed for the Olympics.”
“Someday,” whispered Livvy, tugging on Jenna’s shirt.
“Yes,
someday
we’ll watch her on TV and say ‘we knew her when.’ ” She turned to Livvy. “Are you totally embarrassed yet?”
Livvy’s face was growing redder by the second. “Did you have to say all that?”
“Don’t be ashamed of your skating talent, girl. God gave it to you for a reason,” Jenna said.
“I’m not ashamed. Just modest, I guess.”
“That’s cool. So . . .
I’ll
brag on you,” Jenna said, laughing.
When the dishes were cleared away, the group games began. The kids and the grown-ups played for more than an hour.
Darkness soon settled over Alpine Lake, and church members began offering testimonies of thanksgiving.
Jenna’s uncle Nam, a new father, stood tall and held up his tiny son. “We are very grateful to God for a healthy child this year,” he said, grinning.
Another man stood and thanked the church for helping him through hard times. His wife stood at his side, smiling and nodding, giving thanks in Korean.
Next, Jenna’s mother stood and told everyone about the baby they were going to adopt. From that moment on, Pastor Song’s soon-to-be-adopted son was the topic of conversation. Talk of a baby shower hummed in the air, and the church ladies chattered in Korean, smiling and planning.
Oh great
, thought Jenna. She was sure she’d have to attend all the hoopla for her adopted brother. The whole thing was getting out of hand!
A light snow was falling as Jenna and her friend headed for the church parking lot. She was glad she’d worn her warmest jacket and scarf. Winter in the Colorado Rockies meant skiing, snowboarding, and other exciting activities. Best of all for her was working out in a heated gym!
On the way to the car, Livvy commented, “Your church is really super. So friendly and connected, like a community.”
“Asian-Americans stick together. And one of the best things about going to a Korean church is getting to hear the sermons in my first language.”
“Thanks for inviting me. I like the unique culture—especially the noodles.” Livvy pulled on her mittens. “I’ll have to get your mom’s recipe. They’re super good.”
“Nothing to it,” explained Jenna. “Just tell your grandma to sauté them in sesame oil. It gives that yummy flavor.”
The girls waited beside the Songs’ family car. “Do you ever speak Korean around the house—you know, with your parents?” asked Livvy, leaning against the car door.
“Lots of times. And even sometimes at gymnastics because my coach is Korean, too.”
“And Tasya is Russian,” Livvy added. “I wonder how that works out at their house?”
Jenna chuckled. “Their kids probably speak three different languages.”
“Really? They have kids?”
Jenna honestly didn’t know. She’d never heard either of them talk about children. Come to think of it, they probably didn’t. Their “kids” were all the girls who trained at their gym.
Nothing more was said about the upcoming adoption. And Jenna was relieved. She’d heard more than enough talk of a new brother at church for one day.
Only the Best
Chapter Nine
For as long as she could remember, Jenna had preferred home meets. Even though AAG was smaller than a big-city gym, it was easier doing routines on familiar apparatuses where she trained three times a week. And there were the usual ceiling marks she liked to watch when she did her aerials. The spots helped keep her position when she was in the air.
But all the girls on the team were jazzed about going to the Olympic Training Center headquarters. Especially Cassie Peterson, the tallest sixth grader. “I’ve heard all kinds of awesome stuff about OTC,” she said, her blue eyes shining.
“Like what?” Jenna asked as they dressed in leotards in the locker room.
“For one thing, the equipment is state-of-the-art.”
Cassie seemed pretty sure of herself. “A first-class place.”
“It oughta be.”
“OTC oozes with excellence and professionalism,” said Cassie, her face beaming. “I can’t wait to go again.”
“Me neither, except this’ll be my
first
time.”
“You’ll love it, trust me.” Cassie sighed, looking a bit discouraged. She looked almost sad.
“What’s wrong?” Jenna asked.
“It’s just that . . . oh, I’m not really sure about gymnastics anymore.”
Jenna sat on the bench beside her. “What’re you saying?”
Cassie straightened. “It’s a good thing we’re going, I guess. This’ll probably be my last year at AAG,” she said suddenly.
“You’re kidding!” Jenna was shocked. “You’ve been involved with gymnastics since you were in preschool. I thought you were in this forever. Like me . . .”
“I thought so, too, but I just don’t know anymore.” Cassie pulled on her white warm-up pants, her gaze directed toward Jenna. “It’s such a big commitment. You know what I’m talking about.”
Jenna knew. She knew as well as anyone at AAG. To achieve Elite level—which had been both Cassie’s and Jenna’s dream—required an exhausting training schedule.
Thirty hours a week, at least, just to maintain Elite status. And there were always injuries just waiting to happen. With that much pressure, a gymnast was often subject to broken bones, sprains, or worse.
She watched Cassie twist her long, blond locks into a knot at the back of her head. For a single moment, Jenna almost missed her own waist-length hair. Then she spoke up. “You won’t quit without thinking it through, will you?”
Cassie closed the door to her locker. “That’s just it. I’ve been thinking nonstop ever since the qualifying meet last spring. If I keep testing up—to Level Nine and finally to Elite level—I’ll have to drop out of public school. Probably have to be homeschooled.”
“So what’s wrong with that?”
Cassie shrugged. “I really like going to regular school. Besides, my parents don’t have time to school me at home.”
Jenna didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t imagine Cassie quitting gymnastics. “I guess we’d better get going,” said Jenna, removing her watch and earrings. Jewelry was not allowed during practice or competitive sessions. It was one of the many safety rules Coach Kim and Tasya insisted on for
every
gymnast.
“Coach’ll wonder where we are,” Cassie said with a sigh.
“Yeah, probably,” was all Jenna said.
Cassie stayed behind in the locker room. “I’ll see you later . . . at warm-ups.”
“Better hurry,” Jenna advised, rushing out of the locker room.
More than ever, she was determined to attend the meet in Colorado Springs. Not because Cassie was so up in the air about gymnastics. It wasn’t that. Jenna just could never think of turning her back on the sport.
Lost in thought, she zoomed out the girls’ locker room door.
Crrrunch!
She plowed straight into Coach Kim. “Oh, I’m sorry.” Her hand flew out to steady him. “I didn’t see you, Coach. Are you all right?”
He caught his balance and chuckled, towering over her. “I’m quite fine . . . but what about
you
, young lady?”
“A little startled, that’s all.” And she turned toward the hallway, leading to the gym. “See you at the balance beam.”
“Jenna . . . wait,” he called to her. “There’s something I want to ask you.”
She whirled around, wondering what was on his mind. “Yes?”
“I want you to be team captain for the rest of the school year. What do you say?” His face was very serious. He meant business.
“Sure, I’ll do it.”
He clapped his hands twice. “Done! Now, get going . . . lead the stretches today.”
“You got it!”
He was smiling his big polar bear grin. “I’ll be in for tumbling warm-ups.”
“Okay, Coach. See ya!” She couldn’t remember feeling so terrific. Coach Kim really believed in her, even though she’d had some trouble with her floor routine. He knew what kind of stuff Jenna Song was made of.
Head high and shoulders back, she hurried through the doors and into the gym.
Friday, November 27
Dear Diary,
It felt great not having school today—the day after Thanksgiving. Mom and Dad hit the mall for the start of the Christmas shopping season—for baby furniture (what else!)—while I worked out at the gym.
Being team captain is so cool. I think it’s actually going to help me with my routines. My aerial cartwheels are improving, too. Yes!
I wrote another email to Dominique Moceanu. Even if she never answers again, I’m thrilled about getting her first reply. If only I could perform under pressure the way SHE does! Wow!
Cassie’s got me worried about our team. She’s definitely losing interest . . . or something’s happening. I wish I knew what to do to help. Maybe I’ll give her a call on the weekend. Maybe I’ll pray for her, too.
Only the Best
Chapter Ten
“I’m so glad it’s almost Christmas,” Jenna said, steadying the tabletop Christmas tree in the waiting area at Alpine Aerials Gymnastics.
“Me too,” said Lara Swenson, the youngest girl on their team. “What’re you getting this year?”
“I haven’t asked for anything,” Jenna said, bending each artificial branch carefully. “What do
you
want for Christmas?”
“A new warm-up suit and a bigger gym bag would be great,” Lara spoke up.
She glanced at the petite girl. “A new water bottle might fit in my stocking.” She laughed.
“That’s
all
you want?” Lara’s big brown eyes got even bigger.
“Well . . . maybe I’ll ask for another Olympic rings flag
for my room. I already have the small one.” She couldn’t honestly think of anything she needed or wanted. Unless it was some new church clothes. Her parents had already forked out a lot of money for her birthday present at the end of the summer—a classy new computer. Besides, she figured most of her dad’s salary would go toward the new baby.
One by one, Jenna hung little wooden ornaments on the tree. The decorations were tiny gymnastics apparatuses or figurines of boys and girls performing various stunts. She and Lara had volunteered to decorate the tree yesterday when Tasya mentioned it after class. Jenna had jumped right up, saying she’d help. Anything to get her mind off the upcoming adoption. But she hadn’t told Tasya the reason for her eagerness. Not Lara, either. So far, no one at the gym knew about the baby.
“Oh, look . . . how clever!” Lara had discovered a garland of wooden beads mixed in with Olympic rings and flags.
“Hey, cool,” Jenna said, inspecting it. “I wonder where Tasya found this.”
“They travel all over the world,” Lara said, winding the garland around the tree. “Could’ve come from almost anywhere.”
“Looks like something from Germany.” Jenna had seen similar holiday trimmings in the catalogs that sometimes
arrived in the mailbox. “There’s only one way to know,” she observed.
“Ask Tasya, right?” Lara giggled as she spun around the room, pointing her toes and posing.
Jenna stepped back and examined the tree. “So . . . what do you think?” she asked. “Are we good at this or what?”
“Oops, I see an empty spot.” Lara rushed over to fill it with two additional ornaments. “There, how’s that?”
“The best,” Jenna said, studying the tree again.
Lara stood against the wall, staring at her. “You do everything that way, don’t you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You never miss a chance for perfection.” The younger girl wore a curious expression. “Am I right?”
Jenna had to laugh. “You didn’t see my floor routine last Saturday, did you?”
Lara frowned. “You’re kidding. You mean you actually flubbed?”
“Not only that, I wiped out!”
“I must’ve been working on bars,” Lara said. “I totally missed it.”
Jenna shook her head. “I’m surprised none of the girls said anything. I had an all-around lousy practice,” she confessed.
“Well, I never heard about it.”
Jenna wandered over to the vending machines, where
only healthy foods were available. She selected a can of pure carrot juice. “That’s one of the cool things about our team,” she said, pulling the flap off the can. “We support each other.”
“Like Coach always says—we’re family around here. We work together.” Lara selected an apple juice from the juice machine and a fruit yogurt from the snack machine. “Want some of this?”
“No, thanks. I better work out a little before I go home,” she said, glancing at her watch. “I’ll see you later, Lara.”
“Thanks for helping with the tree.”
“We’ll do it again next year, okay?” Jenna called over her shoulder.
Anxious to work on the uneven bars, she hurried to the locker room, changed clothes, and got herself focused. Several other girls from the team were working their floor routines.