Note: I'm do gymnastics so…the adventures of Sammy & Friends when they sign up for a gymnastics program thing for summer . And yes, some of these tales will probably be coming out of personal experiences. Oh god. Get ready. And YES, the title is taken from the movie Dodgeball. That movie is just too awesome for words.
A True Underdog Story
I crossed the big blue mat on the floor and took a seat smack in the middle.
"Sammy!" I heard someone call my name, and I whipped my head around from left to right. It was Billy, Holly, and Marissa, all jogging up to my place on the mat.
"Hi, guys," I said, stretching my legs out. I pulled my left leg up over my shoulder. "How's it going?"
Marissa, looking aghast and horrified, said, "I can't believe you dragged us into this. You do realize flexibility is another word for pain, right?"
"No pain, no gain," I said calmly, smiling serenely. She glared at me, but Billy was already doing backflips around the mat. Or at least attempting too.
"I can jump!" he yelped. "I can jump! I can—" his back hit the matt with a thump.
More people piled into the room. I had signed my friends up for some sort of gymnastics program for three weeks of summer. I thought it would be fun. Most of them (more like Marissa) thought it would be brutal. Either way, I used my awesome persuasive skills to make them all sign up. Also known as forging Marissa's signature.
A true criminal, I am.
I scanned the group of people entering the room, looking for Casey. Sure enough, I found him chatting it up with a group of perky girls in cut-off yoga-pants and back-exposing nylon tank tops. The green monster inside me suddenly found itself clawing out.
I stood up. "Hold on," I told my friends. "I'll be right back." And then I stormed over to Casey.
His face lit up when he saw me, but I didn't let that phase me.
"Hi," I said through gritted teeth. I knew I shouldn't be acting like such a freak, but the truth was, this whole year he had been in high school while I was still at William Rose, and we barely got to see each other—especially with his anal-about-our-relationship mother and sister prowling around ready to kill me and send him to L.A.
So since Heather and Candi Acosta both went on a two-month cruise around the Caribbean, Casey opted for staying home—because honestly, a Caribbean cruise sounds great, but with Heather and Candi? Just another torture method. Sociopaths should really see into it.
It was a great two-month opportunity for us to actually be spending time together. All of us. And it bothered me, just a tiny bit, that he was talking to other people.
Okay, I know I sound like an overly jealous freak of a girlfriend. But you can't blame me for being nit-picky about things like this. With Heather, Candi, and our dating parents all against us, Casey and I just couldn't win.
I guess Casey sensed my unease because he grabbed my hand. "You ready for session one?" he grinned. "I can't wait to bust out my mad gymnastics skills."
"Like you even have any," I joked, but he probably did. If Billy could master a running round-off with perfection—which was what he was doing right now across the mat—than surely Casey could too.
The instructor came in, and we all took a seat on the mat. After ten wasted minutes of stupid introductions and talk about what school we go to, what age we are, our names, our likes, our dislikes, and I think even our social security numbers were added into the conversation at some point, we finally got to the first lesson.
Stretches. Another half hour of waste.
Marissa seemed to be doing fine up until the point when out instructor told us to do a tripod.
"It's like a triangle," he said, "An isosceles triangle."
"Can an obtuse person pull of an isosceles triangle?" Billy asked earnestly.
People snickered and some people rolled their eyes. Thankfully no 'obtuse' people were in the class to hear the insensitive comment.
"Who can do a tripod?" The instructor asked after telling us how to do it. "Without a demonstration. Let's see who already knows how to do it."
No one raised their hands. He scanned the room and his eyes landed right on me. "How about you?"
I got up and went to the front of the room awkwardly.
"On your knees," he instructed.
Someone in the room snickered. Actually, I think I heard a couple male voices snickers. My face burned, but I faced away from the instructor and got in a kneeling position.
"Nose to floor. Forehead and nose. Don't put pressure on the top of your head."
I did so. His next instructions were to put my knees on my elbows, so I was practically floating in the air on just my forehead and hands.
"That is a tripod." He turned to the rest of us. "See? Now we try standing position. I'll spot her," he grabbed my legs and pulled them so they were straight in the air. "This is a headstand."
Slwoly, calmly, he let go. I was doing a headstand, something that wasn't that hard at all, until I heard someone whisper, "Nice bra."
What? I looked to my torso, and sure enough, my whole shirt had fallen down. You couldn't actually see my bra, but that was besides the point. The point was, I was almost completely exposed.
I let out a little scream and then came crashing down backwards, embarrassingly enough.
Good way to start session one? I think not.
Note: Chapter two…tomorrow? I'll try.