Girls Only! (10 page)

“Coming out of retirement on behalf of a talented young lady,” he added, flashing an endearing smile Livvy’s way.

“Can you believe it?” She was jumping up and down. “I’ve finally got myself a coach.”

“What’ll your dad say?” Jenna asked.

“What
can
he say?” Livvy said, settling down. “He’ll be surprised, but I think I can talk him into it. After all, my grandma’s running the show now. She’ll help convince him.”

“She’s staying?” Jenna asked.

“Hey, she makes a mean pasta casserole, so I’m not complaining.”

There was laughter all around.

Livvy said good-bye to Coach Sterling and promised to be prompt for their first real practice.

Tomorrow!

The girls walked down Main Street together. “This is so cool, Livvy,” her friend said. “I’m so happy for you!”

“Yes, and I have a funny feeling you’re partly responsible.”

Jenna’s lips pinched into a weird, almost mysterious expression. “My secret is sealed!”

“Wait a minute . . . that’s what Mrs. Newton said about
the cheerleading outfits.” She stopped Jenna right there on the sidewalk. “She was in on this, wasn’t she? She put a bug in Mr. Sterling’s ear about me, didn’t she?”

“What bug? And who are you talking about?” Jenna said ever so innocently.

“You talked to Mrs. Newton, and she told Mr. Sterling about my skating dreams. She must’ve known he was a retired skating coach—one of the best!”

“My lips are still sealed!” Jenna burst out laughing.

“See . . . I was right!”

But Jenna wouldn’t admit it. “Mrs. Newton has some jazzy-looking patterns for skate costumes.”

“You’re changing the subject.”

“Well, she
does
. And you’d better check them out.” Livvy flipped her hair. “I will when my grandma and I finish sewing Diane’s cheerleading outfit.”

“You must be kidding!
You’re
sewing it?” Jenna slapped her forehead. “Does Diane know?”

“It’s my secret . . . mine and Mrs. Newton’s.”

“I know another secret,” Jenna piped up, halfway to her house. “It’s about Diane Larson. How do you think she knows so much about everyone?”

Livvy was laughing now. “Must be the school secretary—something about her reminds me of Diane.”

“She’s Diane’s nosy aunt, who gets the scoop on everyone at the beginning of the year, then yaks it to Diane.”

“So . . .
that’s
how Diane knew I was a skater,” said Livvy.

“Among other things.” Jenna smiled her sweet, forgiving smile. “I don’t know about you, but it’s really no big deal to me . . . the gossip and stuff.”

“I’m not surprised. You overlook everything.”

“I try.”

“Tell me about it.” Livvy linked arms with her best friend.

Dreams on Ice

Chapter Nineteen

Livvy’s world was beginning to spin on its axis once again. She wouldn’t be sitting alone at lunch anymore. Wouldn’t be writing long, letter-type essays for Mrs. Smith. And she wouldn’t be so grumpy to her parrot, either!

She was getting her confidence back, thanks to a lot of super folks. In a not-so-Podunk place!

“Do you think Mom has any idea about my new coach?” Livvy asked her dad before bedtime.

“Well, if she doesn’t, I’d be surprised.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead, tucking her in. “Good night, Livvy.”

“I love you,” she said. “Don’t work too late.”

“That’s impossible.” He shrugged helplessly.

“I know.” She understood his motivation and drive. It was the same kind of energy that inspired her to beat the sun up every morning.

Before turning out the light, her dad said, “Grandma’s planning a big breakfast tomorrow. Better set your alarm.”

“Oh, I’ll be up. Easy.”

“So will I,” he said.

“Daddy?” She sat up in bed, staring across the room. “Does this mean what I think it does?”

He leaned on the door, his eyes serious. “It’s time I met my daughter’s coach.”

“You’re kidding . . . really?”

“Most of all, I want to see you skate, kiddo. I’ve missed out on too much . . . for too long.”

It was impossible to sleep. An invisible choir of crickets buzzed away. The moon played tag with the bedroom curtains as they drifted back and forth. And Livvy daydreamed of regional competitions and ice revues.

Soon to come. . . .

Lying in the stillness, she began to whisper to her mother about all the super things that had happened since she’d moved to Alpine Lake. Things like getting a free (for now) top-notch coach. Like having a true friend named Jenna Song.

But she stopped. “Sorry, Mom. I’m not so sure I’m talking to the right person.”

Livvy turned her chatter into a long prayer—and felt super good about it.

Only the Best

I would like to thank the International Federation of Gymnastics, the U.S. Olympic Committee, and Craig Bohnert, Public Relations Director at USA Gymnastics.

A special thank-you to Alissa Jones, a young gymnast with a bright future, and Amanda Hoffman, my cheerful “teen consultant.” Smiles to Christy Friesen, who gave Jenna’s cat the purrrfect name and personality to match!

Information about U.S. Olympic Gold medalist Dominique Moceanu was provided by her official homepage and her autobiography,
Dominique Moceanu, An American Champion
.

To

Alissa Jones,

a talented young gymnast

(and my cousin!)

who excels on the balance

beam
.

Only the Best

Chapter One

“You’ll never guess who sent me a personal email last night,” said Jenna Song as she opened her school locker.

Her best friend and locker partner, Olivia Hudson, scrunched her face into a silly frown. “Let me guess . . . someone famous?”

“Maybe.”

“Someone like . . . Dominique Moceanu?”

Jenna spun around, her three-ring binder dangling from the top shelf. “That’s it, Livvy! How’d you know?”

“You mean I’m
right?
” Livvy’s green eyes sparkled. “I just guessed!”

Jenna rescued her sliding notebook with one hand and grabbed Livvy’s arm with the other. “I’m so-o totally jazzed. See, I sent Dominique this really short email
asking about her favorite gymnastics events and stuff like that.”

“And she wrote you back?” Livvy asked.

“Domi adores the floor exercise and the balance beam. Just like me!”

“Domi?”
Livvy eyed her curiously. “Sounds like you’re on a first-name basis with one of the hottest gold medal gymnasts around.”

Jenna shrugged. “Well, she signed off with her nickname—Domi. So . . . yeah, I guess I am!”

“Okay.” Livvy looked a little suspicious.

Stepping aside, Jenna gave Livvy a chance to gather her books for morning classes. Their locker was major first-class—one of the coolest in Alpine Lake Middle School. At least Jenna thought so.

The top and bottom shelves were decorated in hot pink carpet, scraps left over from remodeling her attic bedroom. And with Christmas only five weeks away, they’d hung tiny green bows and gold bells on the door.

“So . . . when do I get a peek at your email?” Livvy asked, stacking up her books.

“Tonight after ballet class, maybe?”

“I’ll have to check with my grandma first,” Livvy said, looking a little worried. “She likes me to be prompt after ballet and skating sessions. ‘It makes for a terribly late supper,’ she always says.”

“How’s it going—her living with you and your
dad?” Jenna leaned against the locker next to hers and Livvy’s.

“As long as she doesn’t pretend she’s my mother, things are fine,” Livvy said softly, closing the locker door. “Nobody can ever take Mom’s place.”

Jenna wished with all her heart that Livvy’s mom had somehow beaten the cancer last summer. More than anything!

“It’s really not so bad having Grandma live with us,” Livvy said. “For one thing, she’s way better at cooking than Dad ever was.”

They laughed about that, then discussed the possibility of Livvy actually going home with Jenna after ballet. “Mom can drive you to our house when she comes for me,” Jenna offered.

Livvy fluffed her shoulder-length auburn hair. “Sounds super. Can’t wait to read your email from . . .
Domi
!” The girls giggled into their locker. No way did they want to be seen acting too silly. Even though they
were
on the sixth-grade end of the middle-grade totem pole!

But Jenna felt like flying. She was very excited about her personal connection with the youngest U.S. gymnast ever to win Olympic gold! She could hardly wait to tell Cassie Peterson, one of her teammates.

Jenna pranced to the end of the hall, jostled by the pre-homeroom crowd. “See you in P.E.,” she called to Livvy as they parted ways.

“Okay!” Livvy waved and disappeared down the hall.

Jenna slowed her pace as she made the turn toward Mr. Lowell’s homeroom. She’d rather be in any other class these days. Even strict Mrs. Smith—Livvy’s homeroom teacher—would be light-years better.

Two annoying boys had started bugging her. Chris Stephens and Jamey Something-or-other were forever pulling on their eyes, making them slant down the way her eyes were shaped naturally.

“What kind of last name is
Song?
” Chris had jeered one day.

“Sing along with Jenna Song,” Jamey Something had joined in.

Some days she could easily ignore them. But other times Jenna wanted to march across the room and tackle them good. She didn’t want to risk hurting herself, though. Not
this
year! She was poised to move to a Level Nine in gymnastics. Nothing, especially not two terribly rude boys, was going to stand in her way!

After ballet class—and after Livvy had called home—the girls settled into Jenna’s cozy attic bedroom. The room was cooler than cool with three large dormer windows on one side. On the opposite wall, her father
had installed a barre and a wide mirror where she could practice her ballet moves and stretches. Sasha, her golden-haired cat, slept on the high four-poster bed, curled up in a tuck position. At the far end of the room, a built-in desk was home to Jenna’s new computer. And high over the desk, an Olympic rings flag was tacked to the wall.

“Are you ready to preview my email?” Jenna said, sitting at her desk.

Livvy grinned and slid a chair next to her in front of the monitor. “Just think what fun we could’ve had with email when I lived back in Chicago.”

“No kidding. As much as we
both
love to write letters, we probably would’ve been emailing nonstop.” Jenna moved the mouse and clicked on the last entry. “Instead of pen pals, we could’ve been email amigos, right?”

“Yeah, and probably kissed your gymnastic goals good-bye . . . my skating plans, too,” Livvy added.

“Never. Nothing comes between me and gymnastics.” Jenna leaned forward. “Here we go . . . I found Dominique’s message.”

Livvy pressed in next to Jenna, studying the screen. “Wow, she says she can’t live without her personal computer.”

Jenna scrolled farther down. “Check it out—Domi collects lots of stuffed animals. Especially elephants. And guardian angels, too.”

“Super,” whispered Livvy. “Can you believe she told you all this stuff about herself?”

“I know. It’s one of the coolest things to happen this year . . . next to you and me moving to the same Colorado town,” Jenna said.

Livvy grinned at her. “You can say that again.”

They abandoned the computer after a while, practicing their
arabesque
and
pirouette
moves together. “It’s great having you in ballet class with me,” Jenna said, catching her breath.

“For a while I wasn’t sure if Dad was going to sign me up or not,” Livvy said. “But thanks to Grandma, I’m in!”

Just then the computer announced an incoming email. Quickly, Jenna rushed back to her desk. She clicked the mouse to access the message. Scanning the screen, she read the words silently. “Oh, this can’t be,” she groaned, noting the name of the Denver adoption agency.

“Something wrong?” Livvy asked, coming over.

“Listen to this.” She read the message aloud. “ ‘Friday, November 20. To Reverend and Mrs. Song: A healthy Korean infant is available for adoption. A certified letter with pertinent information will be sent to you immediately. Congratulations, and thank you for your patience in this matter.’ ”

Livvy turned to face Jenna. “Sounds like you’re about to become a sister. How’s it feel?”

Jenna’s throat felt lumpy. “I didn’t think it was going
to happen so fast,” she admitted, more to herself than to her friend.

Astonished, she went to sit in the soft, pillowed area under one of the dormer windows. Sasha came purring and made herself comfortable in Jenna’s lap. Silently, Jenna stroked her cat’s sleek coat.

“I don’t get it. You seem upset,” Livvy said, coming to sit on a floor pillow.

Reaching for her friend’s hand, Jenna squeezed hard. “Oh, Livvy. I don’t know how to say it, but I don’t think I’m ready for this.”

Only the Best

Chapter Two

First thing Saturday morning, Jenna headed for the gym—Alpine Aerials Gymnastics. AAG, for short. Padded safety mats were out everywhere when she arrived. Gymnasts in various levels practiced on the uneven parallel bars, balance beam, and the vault. Others worked individual floor routines. Graceful, fit bodies were flying, swinging, or tumbling all over.