Girls Only! (14 page)

Jenna did all her warm-ups—running, sit-ups, jumps, and her drills. When she was ready, she asked Tasya to spot her.

Tasya came willingly, as always. “You seem happier, yes?”

Jenna nodded. “I’m trying.”

“Good, then. Let’s hit everything today.”

Hitting everything
was a gymnast’s single goal. “I’ll do my best.” She placed grips over her palms and wrist supports. Next, she applied some chalk and water to keep
her fingers from slipping on the bars. Saluting, she raised one arm over her head, even though there was no judge in sight. Not today, but very soon . . .

Jenna felt totally confident about this routine. Because she loved bars. Since the days of Tumble Tots, she had practiced her technique thousands of times. It took courage and confidence, above all.

Mounting the lower bar, she felt the smoothness beneath her grip.
Hit everything
.

Tasya backed away slowly. “Remember now, Jenna: Always,
always
focus on your body. Know precisely where you are up there,” she told her. “You
know
just where your toes end and where your fingertips begin, yes? Feel . . . know . . .
own
the weight of your body.”

Jenna began with a gentle swing up to a handstand on the lower bar.
Smooth, stretch, pike, handstand, catch, back salto
. . . The key words for each second of her routine, combined with muscle memory, carried her through to the most difficult part of her bars routine. The Geinger. She released the bar and caught it again as she circled around in midair.

Big swing, stretch, twist, smooth, double swings
. . . The dismount was a layout with a full twist. Her feet pounded the safety mat, jarring her body.

“Clean stick! Very good!” shouted Tasya, her face beaming.

Jenna couldn’t help grinning as she threw her arms high over her head. There was no question in her mind. She had performed only her best.

She left the gym with one thought buzzing around in her head.
I have to work on a stronger floor routine . . . especially my aerial cartwheels!

Only the Best

Chapter Eleven

At church the next day, Jenna bowed her head silently during prayer time. She prayed for Cassie and for herself—about the aerial cartwheels and the upcoming meet.

Jenna had no interest in doing the same for little Jonathan—the name her father had already chosen for the baby. If she
did
bring the matter up, God wouldn’t understand her uncaring attitude.

After the sermon was given and the benediction sung, the women went to cook in the fellowship hall. Every Sunday they served up a feast. And every Sunday the church members—visitors, too—gathered downstairs and ate kimchi and noodles and other Korean specialties to their hearts’ content.

This Sunday was no different, except that Jenna sat off by herself. Several young people tried to coax her to join them, but she refused. She was miserable, just like Tasya Kim had said five days ago. Miserable and stuck with the pain of jealousy.

That afternoon, Jenna called Livvy from her portable bedroom phone. Livvy answered on the second ring. “Hi, it’s me,” Jenna said. “I’m glad you’re home. I need some company. Can you come over?”

“I have a few more pages of homework, but maybe I can. Wait a minute, I’ll ask my dad.” Livvy wasn’t gone for more than a few seconds. “Sure, my dad said he’ll drive me over.”

“Cool! I’ll be waiting.” She nuzzled her face against Sasha’s furry body. “Bye!”

Jenna hung up and went to turn on her computer. When she checked her email, she was surprised to see another message from Domi . . . or probably someone representing the Dominique Moceanu Homepage. With thousands of messages pouring in, there was no way America’s little sweetheart gymnast could possibly keep up. No way!

The email began:
Hi, Jenna! I hope you do well at your meet in Colorado Springs. You’ll love OTC. It’s a great place to “show your stuff.” Have fun!

Domi M
.

Jenna hurried downstairs to tell her parents. But Mom was taking a nap, and Dad was brushing up on his notes for the evening vespers.

Sitting on the sofa, Jenna watched for Livvy. On the coffee table, she noticed a brochure of an adoption agency. She studied the front and discovered that it was the one her parents were working with.

Casually, she thumbed through the pages, surprised at how many children and infants were featured. Most of them had lived their short, needy lives in overseas orphanages. Without the love of a permanent family. Their tiny faces touched her, made her feel sorry for them. Each one.

Sighing, she wondered how she might’ve felt about an adopted brother if she hadn’t spent the last nearly twelve years as an only child.
Would I care more about baby Jonathan then?

She turned the pages more slowly, studying the ethnic children. Indian, Chinese, Korean, Filipino. Many of them had already been approved for adoption. They were just waiting for loving parents. So many children . . .

The doorbell startled her.

Quickly, she opened the front door to Livvy. “Come in,” she said, greeting her friend. “Glad you came over. Want some pop or something?”

“Super.” Livvy removed her jacket and wool hat. She
wore a tan turtleneck and brown corduroy jeans. “It’s starting to snow again,” she said, shaking her hair a bit. “My dad said he’ll pick me up in a couple of hours.”

“That’s good.” Jenna hung up Livvy’s coat and hat in the hall closet. Then she led her into the kitchen. “Wanna make root beer floats? Or are you too cold for ice cream?”

“Whatever you like.” Livvy was perched on the edge of a chair.

Jenna laughed. “Hey, I think we’ve switched roles.”

“Like how?”

“You’re the relaxed one these days,” she said, dipping ice cream into two tall glasses.

“So why’re
you
uptight?” Livvy asked, leaning back in her chair. “You’ve got one of the best gymnastic coaches around, a fabulous ballet instructor, and two terrific parents.”

Jenna noticed the obvious absence. Livvy hadn’t said one word about Jonathan, the soon-to-be baby brother. “So you think I should be perfectly calm and relaxed? My world’s totally together, right?”

Grinning, Livvy waved her hand. “Oh, whatever.”

“Yeah, right. Whatever.” Jenna set about pouring the root beer over the ice cream. It foamed up, threatening to spill over the sides.

“You’ve got everything a girl could possibly want,” Livvy continued. Then she paused, staring out the window.
“You know, I’d give almost anything to have my mom back. But that’s selfish of me. I know that.”

Selfish
. . .

Jenna didn’t want to touch that topic. She didn’t need to feel guilty today, on top of everything else. “Your mom was always involved with your skating, wasn’t she?” Jenna asked.

Livvy’s eyes glistened suddenly, and she turned from the window. “Mom took me to every skating event from the time I was in preschool on. She went along to cheer for me, but she was never uptight about competitions. Not like some moms on the sidelines.”

“Like
my
mom,” Jenna said softly. She carried the root beer floats over to the table and sat down. “My mother is so strict . . . expects way too much. Especially in gymnastics.”

“But that’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Livvy spoke up.

Jenna dipped a straw into her float. “It all depends, I guess.”

“On what?”

She wasn’t sure how to explain what she felt. “It’s just that my mom wants me to achieve—keep pushing myself—because she knows I can reach my goals.”

Livvy was nodding her head. “What’s so bad about that?”

“She’s stuck on me being the best.”

“Lots of moms want that for their kids.” Livvy was staring at her now.

Jenna shrugged, feeling almost sad. “But it sounds like your mom was different . . . didn’t push so hard.”

“Oh, she did, but in a gentle way. But best of all, my mom accepted me. That was always number one with her.” Livvy leaned down to sip her soda.

Jenna thought it over. “That’s the kind of mom I want to be someday. The ideal mom—someone like your mother.”

“You know what I think?” Livvy said.

Jenna shrugged.

“Better be thankful for what you have,” Livvy offered.

Jenna ignored the comment. She didn’t need another sermon. That wasn’t why she’d invited Livvy over. The truth was she felt lonely—needed a listening ear. She honestly wished she could talk to her own mother like this. But Mom was too busy arranging baby furniture and sewing nursery curtains to listen to the child she already had.

Only the Best

Chapter Twelve

Jenna finished writing her diary entry, then reached for the phone. She dialed Cassie’s phone number. “Hey, Cass,” she said when her friend answered. “Busy?”

“Doing homework. What’s up?”

“I was wondering,” she began. “Have you talked to Coach and Tasya about what you told me last week?”

Cassie gasped. “Are you kidding? They’re professional coaches, Jenna. They’d never understand what I’m dealing with.”

“I think you’re wrong. Why not give them a try? They might help.”

Cassie was silent.

“Look, I don’t mean to get on your case, but I hate to see you feeling like this about gymnastics. Someday soon you and I are going to the qualifying meet for Elite gymnasts . . . aren’t we?”

“Well, maybe.”

“So you haven’t decided for sure?” Jenna’s fingers were crossed.

“I won’t give up without a fight—my own personal battle, that is.”

Jenna understood. “I know, Cassie, and I’m praying for you, okay?”

“That’s probably a good thing.” Cassie chuckled a little. “I need all the help I can get.”

“Hang in there, girl,” Jenna said, glad she’d called.

“Thanks, I will.”

“See ya at practice tomorrow.”

“Okay, bye.”

Jenna hung up the phone. She leaned back on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Sasha came over and settled down next to her. “Something’s really bugging Cassie,” Jenna told her cat. “I hope she snaps out of it before Saturday.”

Sasha’s purring rose to a gentle roar. And Jenna closed her eyes and began to pray.

After supper, Jenna made herself cozy near the fireplace with Sasha in her lap. Dad sat on the sofa next to Mom as he read the Bible and the family devotional. Jenna stared into the orange and gold flames as she listened.

The reading was about changes and learning to trust God through them. She wondered if her father had searched the book just to find this topic. But she didn’t shut out the message because of it. She didn’t feel upset about the things her dad was reading. Not the way she might have a week ago.

Gazing into the fire, she remembered the images of orphaned babies and children from the agency pamphlet. She remembered how stirred up she’d felt the first time she’d seen it. Maybe because the pages represented the
caseworkers that had located baby Jonathan for her parents. And for her. . . .

The longer she sat there, the worse she felt. In a few days, a baby was coming to Alpine Lake.
Her
parents would become
his
. And she would become Jonathan Song’s big sister!

She knew she ought to be getting ready for the special day. But how?

Only the Best

Chapter Thirteen

Jenna met Livvy at their locker first thing Tuesday. “How’d skating go this morning?” she asked.

“Really super,” Livvy replied, carrying her skate bag over her green parka.

“That’s the stuff!” Jenna put both thumbs up and waved them in Livvy’s face. “You can brag on yourself once in a while, especially to your friends. How’s it feel?”

Livvy laughed, depositing her jacket and the books for her afternoon classes inside the locker. “No comment,” she said.

Jenna watched her stack up her math and English books. The little Christmas bells taped to the locker door jingled as the girls took turns primping at the mirror.

“I’ve been thinking about your gymnastics event—the one coming up,” Livvy said, turning to face her. “I’ve got a brainwave about it.”

Oh, great
. Jenna braced herself. She had a feeling she knew what Livvy was going to say. Something about traveling to Denver with her parents to bring the baby home. “Uh . . . if this is about skipping the meet, I can’t do it.” She closed the locker door so hard the tiny bells kept jingling inside.

“You mean you
won’t
do it,” Livvy shot back. “Anybody knows your coach’ll let you off. That’s what alternates are for.”

“Livvy, stop!”

“Look, I’m not on your case, Jen. I just think you should change your mind.”

Change
. . .

There it was again.

Jenna stood her ground. “I’m not a horrible person, really. I just can’t let my coach or the team down.”

Livvy got right in her face. “Listen, I have an idea . . . but only if you really want to go with your parents to get your baby brother.”

“It’s not possible!” Jenna spun away on her heels, not wanting to hear more. She tore off toward homeroom. And to the face-making weirdoes, Chris and Jamey.

Sitting at her regular desk, she pulled her notebook out of her book bag. She found her assignment book and
double-checked her homework. All the while, Chris and Jamey were yanking on their eyes.

Any other day, she might’ve overlooked them—put up with their antics one more time. But now she’d had enough.

Up! Her hand flew high.

Chris and Jamey blinked their eyes and jerked their heads at attention. They shuffled around in their desks, probably looking for a book . . . something to make them look busy.