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rainbowfic2016-08-29 08:56 pm
kay_brooke) wrote in rainbowfic2016-08-29 08:56 pm
Lotus #10, Olympic Gold #10
Name: kay_brooke
Story: Unusual Florida
Colors: Lotus #10 (Chakra), Olympic Gold #10 (athlete)
Styles/Supplies: Seed Beads, Canvas
Word Count: 733
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply.
Summary: Jaime's dream officially comes to an end.
Note: Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM. Last Lotus.
She knew it was coming, when she walked into her fifth and final year of eligibility on the junior girls gymnastics team, and every one of her teammates seemed so much younger and smaller than her. Even Joy and Prema, the only other two fourteen-year-olds on the team, were tiny compared to her. Jaime felt like a clumsy, lumbering beast next to them.
She knew it was coming when, no matter how often she practiced, her form just wasn’t improving. Something about her center of balance had fundamentally changed and she couldn’t compensate for it.
She knew it was coming, because she had stuck it out longer than most, but there was a reason there were only three older girls on the team.
She knew it was coming, but it was still like a slap to the face when, halfway through the season, Miss Kima called Jaime into her office and told her she would not be recommending her for the senior girls team the following year.
Jaime tried so hard not to cry. Unyielding toughness, that was her new motto. Nothing could touch her. Nothing could hurt her. Or at least no one could know how badly she was hurting on the inside. While she watched her friends at school drown beneath all the dramas and upsets of high school, she got very good at keeping her face as neutral as possible.
Miss Kima threatened to bring it all down.
And something on her face must have shown after all, because Miss Kima patted her gently on the knee and handed her a tissue.
Jaime took it, but she just held it in her hand, crushed into a tiny ball. She didn’t cry. She’d known it was coming. Puberty was doing a number on her body, and she’d known for awhile that she wasn’t going to be one of the girls lucky enough to stay tiny and flat forever. Any hopes or dreams she may have had in the past about competing on the world stage she’d rationalized away as impossible a long time ago.
Still, it hurt.
“I do want you to come back next year, though,” Miss Kima said, smiling at her.
Jaime blinked. “But...I’m fourteen this year.”
Miss Kima laughed. “No, no. I would like you to help me coach next year. It looks like there’s a big group coming in and I’ll need someone to help out. You’ve always been very hard-working, you’re knowledgeable, your technique is flawless. And I’ve noticed how you’ve acted as a mentor to the younger girls this year.”
Jaime looked away. She actually hadn’t much liked acting as a mentor, but the ten-year-olds on the team seemed to equate “bigger and taller” with “older” and tended to come to her with questions when Miss Kima was busy helping other students. It had made Jaime feel even more out of place than she already was, and she hadn’t liked it, but what could she do? Say no or ignore them? Those girls were her teammates and she was obligated to help them become the best they could be.
“Well?” Miss Kima pressed.
“I’ll think about it,” said Jaime.
But she knew, when she walked back out onto the floor, feeling strangely heavy and fuzzy-headed, and saw all those impossibly tiny and young-looking girls going throug their warm-ups, that she could never come back. She wasn’t a coach. She was a gymnast. If she couldn’t compete there was no point in pathetically hanging onto her glory days.
“I’m sorry, honey,” said her mom when Jaime told her the news. “But maybe you can find some new sport to get involved with. I heard from A.J. they’re holding tryouts for the softball team next week.”
“Maybe,” said Jaime, but she knew that wasn’t going to happen, either. She wasn’t really a sports person. She wasn’t really an athlete, at least not in the all-encompassing way her brother was. She was a gymnast. Until the end of this season, when she would no longer be a gymnast.
The best thing to do, Jaime thought, was to just walk away. Shut the door on that part of her life. Don’t try to fill the hole with something else, or find an inferior way to stay involved. A clean break.
It was so easy to think, but she knew it was going to be hard to do.
kay_brookeStory: Unusual Florida
Colors: Lotus #10 (Chakra), Olympic Gold #10 (athlete)
Styles/Supplies: Seed Beads, Canvas
Word Count: 733
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply.
Summary: Jaime's dream officially comes to an end.
Note: Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM. Last Lotus.
She knew it was coming, when she walked into her fifth and final year of eligibility on the junior girls gymnastics team, and every one of her teammates seemed so much younger and smaller than her. Even Joy and Prema, the only other two fourteen-year-olds on the team, were tiny compared to her. Jaime felt like a clumsy, lumbering beast next to them.
She knew it was coming when, no matter how often she practiced, her form just wasn’t improving. Something about her center of balance had fundamentally changed and she couldn’t compensate for it.
She knew it was coming, because she had stuck it out longer than most, but there was a reason there were only three older girls on the team.
She knew it was coming, but it was still like a slap to the face when, halfway through the season, Miss Kima called Jaime into her office and told her she would not be recommending her for the senior girls team the following year.
Jaime tried so hard not to cry. Unyielding toughness, that was her new motto. Nothing could touch her. Nothing could hurt her. Or at least no one could know how badly she was hurting on the inside. While she watched her friends at school drown beneath all the dramas and upsets of high school, she got very good at keeping her face as neutral as possible.
Miss Kima threatened to bring it all down.
And something on her face must have shown after all, because Miss Kima patted her gently on the knee and handed her a tissue.
Jaime took it, but she just held it in her hand, crushed into a tiny ball. She didn’t cry. She’d known it was coming. Puberty was doing a number on her body, and she’d known for awhile that she wasn’t going to be one of the girls lucky enough to stay tiny and flat forever. Any hopes or dreams she may have had in the past about competing on the world stage she’d rationalized away as impossible a long time ago.
Still, it hurt.
“I do want you to come back next year, though,” Miss Kima said, smiling at her.
Jaime blinked. “But...I’m fourteen this year.”
Miss Kima laughed. “No, no. I would like you to help me coach next year. It looks like there’s a big group coming in and I’ll need someone to help out. You’ve always been very hard-working, you’re knowledgeable, your technique is flawless. And I’ve noticed how you’ve acted as a mentor to the younger girls this year.”
Jaime looked away. She actually hadn’t much liked acting as a mentor, but the ten-year-olds on the team seemed to equate “bigger and taller” with “older” and tended to come to her with questions when Miss Kima was busy helping other students. It had made Jaime feel even more out of place than she already was, and she hadn’t liked it, but what could she do? Say no or ignore them? Those girls were her teammates and she was obligated to help them become the best they could be.
“Well?” Miss Kima pressed.
“I’ll think about it,” said Jaime.
But she knew, when she walked back out onto the floor, feeling strangely heavy and fuzzy-headed, and saw all those impossibly tiny and young-looking girls going throug their warm-ups, that she could never come back. She wasn’t a coach. She was a gymnast. If she couldn’t compete there was no point in pathetically hanging onto her glory days.
“I’m sorry, honey,” said her mom when Jaime told her the news. “But maybe you can find some new sport to get involved with. I heard from A.J. they’re holding tryouts for the softball team next week.”
“Maybe,” said Jaime, but she knew that wasn’t going to happen, either. She wasn’t really a sports person. She wasn’t really an athlete, at least not in the all-encompassing way her brother was. She was a gymnast. Until the end of this season, when she would no longer be a gymnast.
The best thing to do, Jaime thought, was to just walk away. Shut the door on that part of her life. Don’t try to fill the hole with something else, or find an inferior way to stay involved. A clean break.
It was so easy to think, but she knew it was going to be hard to do.