Just want to say thank you for all your reviews. They really encourage me to write more, knowing you all like it. Hopefully if you didn't understand much in the first chapter you'll understand a bit more as time goes on. I will warn you now; I'm rubbish at updating regularly. If I get good comments, I tend to update quicker. If I get little or no comments I tend to wait ages before I update again.
Chapter 2
*3 months earlier*
Five am; my alarm clock wakes me up with a shrill ringin my ears as it did every morning. The gruelling life of gymnastics was a considerably hard one. Getting up at 5am every morning, even on Saturdays, can prove to be a tough life, but it's the life I chose for myself. It's my career, and once I'm a gold medallist in the London 2012 Olympics, it will probably be a lot worse. I dragged myself out of bed, roughly tied my hair back and went downstairs to make myself breakfast. I needed the energy for my training session that lay ahead of me, but I couldn't eat loads and end up with indigestion while I'm training. I had no time for illness. I put the bread in the toaster and waited for it to pop up. Whilst I waited, I figured I best get a head start on my algebra homework. I looked at the first question, and already I was stumped. I'd been home schooled since I was 5, being an elite gymnast I wasn't allowed to go to public school, in case I was injured during a PE class or something. Plus the fact that being an elite gymnast, you have to be able to train pretty much all day, and be available to be called into practice whenever. If I went to a public school, that wouldn't be possible. All things considered, I suppose it worked out for the best. Except to be an elite gymnast, to have a career in the Olympics, I had to maintain at least a B average in all my subjects. It wasn't a problem for me; I knew what I was doing most of the time. The toast soon popped up out of the toaster and I carefully picked it out and put it onto my plate, ready to butter. As I buttered my toast, I took another look at my algebra homework. It looked like it was impossible. I sighed and began eating, seeing the time was 5.05am. I didn't have the time to be worrying about algebra of all subjects. I quickly finished my breakfast, and went upstairs to get ready. I had to get ready fast, practice started at 6am, and it was now 5.15am. I quickly jumped in the shower, and turned it on feeling the hot water splash over my skin. I rapidly washed, and got out the shower, turning it off in the process. As I stepped out I felt the cold air of the room hit me like a hurricane, and grabbed my towel off the rack and wrapped it around me heading into my bedroom. I grabbed my underwear, leotard and Hillview gym tracksuit pulling them all on rapidly. Once I was dressed, I let my long burnt amber hair fall loose as I brushed it out, and tied it up into a neat, tight bun on the top of my head as I always did for practice. 5.45am, 5 minutes to spare before I need to leave. I walked around my room grabbing the things I needed, shoved them in my gym bag, and went downstairs to my car. I'd only just got my licence, and I was still learning as I went, but it saved having to rely on my mum or dad all the time. I didn't have to wake them up at the crack of dawn to take me to practice, I could just drive myself. As I pulled up outside the gym, I took a moment to think about my life. Being the Women's National Champion, and leading the Women's National Team, I had my own parking space. The sign read "Reserved for the James'.", and as I saw the sign every day, I thought about how lucky I was to have that sort of recognition. I looked at the time on my car clock, 5.55am it read. I guess I better go in then… I thought, stepping out my car and making my way into the gym. As I walked into the locker room to take off my gym tracksuit, I saw my two best friends leaning against either side of my locker waiting for me.
Brooke Davis and Peyton Sawyer have been my best friends ever since I started here at Hillview. We started together, and just sort of connected. We've been best friends ever since, and everyday we'd see each other at practice. I couldn't ask for better friends than them, they knew everything about me, I knew everything about them, and we knew each other's secrets. It was always us against the world, us facing the competitions together, us getting ready for competitions together, us doing everything together. I knew I could rely on them, and I knew they could rely on me. We've helped each other through everything from grazed knees to broken hearts; from little stumbles in Regionals, to bigger stumbles in Nationals. We really had been through everything together. We'd had our fair share of fights, just like every set of friends would, but being elite gymnasts didn't give us the chance to fall out, we were team mates after all, we had to show the judges that our team were in good spirits, and we all got on. Whether we did or we didn't, we had to show them that we did. As I took off my jacket, and opened my locker, they started talking.
"Tutor Girl! Where have you been! You're usually always here half hour early. You're always training by the time P. Sawyer and I get here! What's going on?" Brooke said, exaggerating just slightly.
"Brooke, I'm fine, honestly. I was just running a bit late that's all." I said, folding up my gym tracksuit and putting it into my locker with my gym bag and closing it.
"Yeah, right. Anyway come on we're going to be late for training and Tom will go mental. Come on." Peyton replied, grabbing our hands and dragging us out of the locker room. As we walked out the locker room and onto the mat to stretch before we could do any training, I could see him staring at me. He'd been staring at me a lot lately. I didn't even know why, I didn't like him. He was cocky, arrogant, and he knew he was good. I mean, in a bad way of course. I know I'm good, but I don't go around flashing my gold medal to everyone I see. As I finished stretching, and got up to start my floor routine, he came over. He stood next to the floor mat where I was about to practice, and just stood and stared. I didn't let him stop me, why should I? I'm a gymnast, I'm the Women's National Champion, and I perform in front of thousands of people as my career. It's what I choose to do.
My routine is a complicated one, but the higher the difficulty level, the more points I earn. It consists of many different elements of dance, tumbling and gymnastics put together, things like: a back handspring, round off, forward handspring into full layout, back somersault, forward somersault, plenty of dance elements, more tumbling, aerials, and many other things. It's all compiled to a piece of music that's cut down to about 1 minute 30 seconds to keep within the rules and guidelines, and then polished up. I finish in the middle of the mat, and I stand up to see him staring at me again. I finally decide to ask him what his problem is, he's been staring at me for ages. I'm interrupted by our coach and head of the gym Thomas Belloff just as I start to walk towards him.
"Haley, a word in my office please?" Tom calls across the gym, and I give my apparent stalker a glance to tell him it's not over. I walk up to Tom's office, and stand waiting for him. "Sit down, Haley." He says, and I do as I'm told. I sit and wait for Tom to say whatever he has to say to me. "Haley, as you know you're one of the brightest students here at Hillview. And I know that you know you have to maintain a B average in all of your subjects in order to stay here, which is the reason I've called you in here today." He says, staring at me.
"Okay…what do you mean?" I ask, wondering what he's talking about.
"Basically, you're flunking maths, algebra specifically. You're getting Cs and Ds in maths, Haley. It's not possible if you want to stay here. You're one of our best gymnasts, and to lose you would be a major blow to both the gym and to you." He explained.
"Okay, so what happens now?" I ask.
"The only choice we have is to assign you a tutor Haley." He replied.
"Okay…who is it?" I ask yet another question.
"Haley, meet your tutor. Nathan Scott." He says, and I follow his gaze to the door, seeing the boy that's been staring at me all morning standing in the doorway.