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Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, or Carly Patterson (duh :P)

Chapter 1

Looking myself over in the mirror one last time, I head downstairs. My parents both smile up at me as I enter our kitchen. Although our house is actually smaller than the apartment we lived at in Texas, I have to admit, it's kind of nice.

"Excited for school?" my mom asks.

"I'm more nervous," I admit, glancing down at myself. I'm only five foot to begin with, and about 95 pounds. For gymnastics, that was a blessing. For high school, everyone will probably think I'm anorexic. Luckily my shorts and t-shirt shows my muscle, so maybe people will see I'm not just skin and bones...

"You'll be fine," my dad assures me. "This year will be so different for you! You'll get to live a regular life. Hang out with friends, join sports and clubs, party," he adds the last one jokingly. Which is his attempt to cheer me up.

"But I don't want to live a different life, I want gymnastics back!" I try not to sound like a spoiled brat who didn't get her way, because that isn't the case. But my parents are the only one's around who come close to understanding how much I miss gymnastics. They're the only ones I can talk to.

They sigh. My mom pats my back lightly. "We know," she says, "but it just can't happen, Sweetie. Your life is more important than your career that would've been over in another few years anyway."

It's safe to say my mom could never be a life coach. Her version of cheering me up is just reminding me more that right now I'd be training for the VISA Championships and not attending school. She didn't mean it that way. After all, a gymnasts career is usually short, some do 5 or 6 years, and some are lucky enough to do 8. But not even two, just wasn't enough to satisfy me.

"I know. It just sucks when I think about what everyone is doing right now, and I'm just not!" They shoot me sympathetic looks but don't say a word. It's better that way. It still sucks, though.

After a few moments of silence, my dad finally tells me seriously, "We came here so you could move on, Everlie. We know it's hard for you. We know it's all you've known and all you want to know. But you have to move on and realize that there's more to life than gymnastics."

I know he means well. But his words just seem like a slap in the face. Can't they just let me mope in peace? "Maybe there is more to life than gymnastics!" I yell, blinking back tears. "But there shouldn't be! Not now! I'm too young to be done! Right now I should be training! I should be working my ass off for the VISAs! Instead I'm here in this stupid town! Miles away from the only place I want to be! And you can't even let me be sad over that for a bit? Everything I've worked for, all the thousands of hours of training is gone! Done! And you just expect me to move on? You may be able to act like nothing's going on but I can't! Because this whole fucking thing sucks!"

My parents blinked, looking at me with stunned expressions. Immediately I feel bad, they gave up everything so I could pursue my dreams and it's in no way their fault that this happened. But I don't know what to say. I've never lashed out at them like that before. Even in the most pressured situations, I always kept my cool. I hate being a bitch.

"I'm, I... I'm sorry," I stutter quickly before grabbing my backpack and running for the door. I keep running once I'm out in case they come after me. Not looking where I'm going, I accidentally run in to something really hard. I look up to see three boys that have to be at least six feet tall staring down at me. They all have the signature Quileute look, like everyone here. I just didn't remember the people here being this tall.

They keep staring at me and I can't figure out why. There is no way they could've heard my outburst. Plus people don't usually stare people down until they say sorry. Especially when they are strangers. "Sorry," I say shyly.

All three of them nod at me. "Are you new?" the tallest of the boys asks.

"Yeah, I just moved back here," I respond awkwardly. I recognize their stares now. They know they've seen me before but they can't quite pinpoint how. Before it kicks in, I decide to get out of there. "Anyway, bye."

I started to run towards the school but I catch snippets of their conversation before I'm out of earshot.

"Think she's...?"

"Definitely … nastics."

"Yeah, look at the way she runs."

Then they start laughing. Self consciously, I slow to a jog, then a walk. I know most people find the way gymnasts run for their events hilarious. But in our defense, it gives you better speed. Guess I can't really say "our" anymore, though. Still, when I'm running outside of gymnastics I don't run like that. I suppose my running does look like a hybrid of "normal" running and gymnastic running... Yeah, hopefully they don't put me in phys. ed. if that's the case...

I try to forget about those guys' conversation as I finish my walk to La Push High. But if a few bulky teenagers know I'm a gymnast – retired, I mean – I'm guessing a lot of other people will, too. Great...

La Push isn't that large, in fact it's really small, so it doesn't take me that long to get to the school. Once I get there, I keep my eyes glued to the ground as I go to the office. I feel stares burning into me and whispers whirling around me. To be positive, this would happen to any new kid so they might not know. But I guess being positive has never gotten me anywhere.

As I enter the office, I feel really nervous. I've never been in a school office, at least not by myself. And besides what I've seen on TV, I have no idea how public schools work.

"Take a seat, the guidance counselor will be with you in a second," the secretary said in a monotonous voice without even looking up.

"Okay," I say in slight confusion. All I need is a schedule... Taking a seat, I dig out my iPhone. There's a new message.

New Message

From: Carly Patterson

Text: Hey Evs! Good luck on your first day of school! You'll be fine :)

I smile slightly. Over the past few months, Carly has been the one person – besides my parents – I can rely on for anything. She's gone through what I'm going through. I just wish I can be as sure as she is that I will find something outside of gymnastics like she did. Quickly, I text her back before my names called.

To: Carly Patterson

Text: Hey Carls! It's kinda suckin, but it hasn't started so it could get better :) btw, thx, for everything!

The secretary fakes a cough and when I look up, I see her hand extended in my direction. She keeps looking at me like I know what she wants. I'm really confused.

"Give me your phone," she demands in annoyance.

"Excuse me?" I ask, probably sounding completely creeped out. Because I am, and I have no idea why she wants my phone. "Why would I...?" I look over to the boy in the seat beside me in confusion. He looks similar to the guys I saw earlier. Only a little cuter.

But as soon as I see his face I can see that he's laughing at me. Is it okay for staff to take students phones in public school? We make eye contact and suddenly his laughter ceases. He just stares. It's really creepy. Like, creepier than the three boys from earlier. Only a few seconds pass but it seems like forever, before he jumps up from the office chair.

"Fuck!" he hisses, his body slightly trembling, before running out of the office. And I mean running, he like flies out of here.

She sighs but doesn't seem surprised. "We'll deal with Mr. Walker later, now Miss, what's your name? I guess I'll have to write up your detention list before you even know your classes."

"D-detention?" I gasp. I hate getting in trouble. Even in training when our coach left the room and everyone took a break, I always kept working in case they came back in the room. What could I possibly have detention for? "For what?"

"For having your phone out in school hours and refusing to hand it over to a staff member."

"That's a rule?" I ask desperately.

She looks at me as if I have two heads. "Yes."

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry!" I apologize, practically throwing my phone on her desk. "I had no idea. I mean, I haven't been to public school since I was like seven, and then I didn't have a phone so they didn't have that rule. And I don't really know any rules. But I guess I should've figured that when you asked for it but I didn't and I'm so – " Like I said, I get really nervous when I get in trouble.

She holds up her hand. "I'll let it slide this time. But I suggest you ask the guidance counselor about them. Look here she comes now."

A middle aged lady came out of the door. "Everlie Callahan," she calls.

The secretary immediately has that look of recognition on her face, so I snatch my phone and scurry after the guidance counselor. She motions for me to take a seat on the opposite side of her desk.

"Welcome to La Push High, Miss Callahan," she greeted warmly. "I'm Mrs. Connweller. It's a pleasure to have you at this school." She smiling widely, and I know in two seconds she's going to bring it up. "Having won numerous gold medals, is such an amazing accomplishment."

I smile shyly at her. "Thank you," I say politely, "but if you don't mind could we stick to school rules and my schedule. I'd rather not talk of gymnastics, at this moment." I feel like I'm about to cry if I don't get out of here soon. Suddenly, I don't' think I can handle it here. It's definitely not as bad as in Texas, I'm not surrounded by it. But maybe I'll never be okay with this, or hearing about my gymnastics career. Wow, when did I become so weak?

She seemed to understand, and nodded solemnly. "I'm sorry, I was speaking with your mom before and she seemed to think you were okay."

"It's no big deal," I say quickly. Either I'm a really good actress or my mom is a freaking idiot.

Immediately, she drops it completely and goes into a huge speech about school rules and regulations. I catch most of them, but seriously, no hats? Then she gives me my schedule and a map of the school. Even if I've never been in a school, I've found my way around larger buildings. I should be good. For that part of the day.

"Alright, thank you very much." She gives me some final information and I head out into the hallway. It's a lot more packed than it was when I entered the office. There's still about fifteen minutes until the first class starts so I search for my locker. Luckily, I have used a paddock before.

When I get to my first period class, which is Algebra, there's only one seat left. Quietly I take it, pull out a notebook and stare at it. Maybe my version of making the best out of a year is just ignoring everyone the whole time.

The teacher, Miss Price, called the class to order. Her next words were the ones I've been dreading since my parents informed me I was coming here, "Now, class, I'm sure you all know we have a new student. Everlie, why don't you tell everyone a little about yourself."

Or you could just type it in on Google and save me the embarrassment. I have a feeling saying that or telling her no thank you wouldn't be acceptable. "Um, I'm Everlie. I, uh, was born here and moved to Texas when I was eight. Then, I uh, moved back here."

Way to go, Evs, now you sound like an awkward lunatic...

The teacher took that as a clue that I didn't want to talk about my Olympic career and started going over what we'd be doing this semester. I guess that's how the first day of school goes...

"Hey, weren't you in the Olympics?" A girl in a low cut shirt asks me in an air-headed voice near the end of class. I wouldn't be so mad if she hadn't said it loud enough for the whole class to hear. And now they are all staring.

I shrug, as if it's not a big deal. As if it's not something I'm completely proud of myself for. Which clearly is not the case. "Yeah."

Suddenly, everyone starts asking me a bunch of questions. Honestly, it is worse than a press conference. Luckily before I had a chance to say anything, the bell rings. I shoot them an apologetic smile before rushing out of the class.

Clearly, this town has done some research.

My next two classes, History and English, go by the same way. Questions I don't want to answer, with topics I no longer feel comfortable answering. I know no one could possibly know what I'm going through, and that's not their fault. But is it not common sense that when someone has to stop doing something they love due to injury, they're not going to want to talk about it? Apparently not.

At lunch I find my way to the cafeteria. Like all my classes, it is pretty much full. Near the back of the room, I see a shy looking girl sitting alone at a table. It's about the closest I'll get to an empty table and maybe I'll get lucky and she'll be too shy to talk to me.

"Excuse me?" I ask quietly.

She looks up, and unlike everyone else so far today, she doesn't look at me like I'm a science project. "Yes?"

"Can I sit with you?" I ask awkwardly.

She looks hesitant but then nods.

"Thank you."

We sit eating our lunch in silence. Every so often she looks like she's going to say something, but never does. Eventually, I realize I'm being slightly rude and introduce myself. "I'm Everlie."

"I mean, I'm Kim." She smiles slightly, kind of like she's embarrassed.

Sometime during lunch, the awkwardness subsides, and we begin an actual conversation. It takes me all of two minutes to see that I'm not that interesting to talk to. After all, gymnastics is pretty much the only thing I'm interested in and I don't even want to talk about it. Well, I wouldn't mind meeting someone who is into it and talk about the actual sport...

When the bell rings, she asks me what class I'm in. As it turns out, we had Chemistry together. So far, this class is the most enjoyable. Probably just because since I'm talking to Kim instead of sitting alone, no one really goes out of their way to ask me questions.

Then, last period came. And because everything just happens to be against me lately, it's gym. Since it's the first day, we stay in the classroom rather than the small gymnasium. At first, I think that's a huge plus, then class starts.

Since it's gym and I'm an Olympic Athlete, the teacher decides to make a big deal out of it. After attendance – which I guess they do at the beginning of every class – he asks me to introduce myself. Not that everyone in the class doesn't already know who I am by now. News travels fast in small towns...

"Um, there's not much to tell," I say, half-honestly. Technically there's only one thing about me; however, there's a lot to say about that one thing.

"Now, now, don't be modest!" he exclaims. "Does anyone know what Everlie here has accomplished?"

"It's really not a big deal," I tell him quickly. He, though, is not getting the hint and gestures to one of the girls who raised her hand.

"She won a gold medal in, like, the Olympics," she gloats, as if she's the one who won it. Then she beams at me.

I smile back. She might be a fan. And no matter how much she's embarrassing me, if she's a fan, I'll be nice to her. I owe a lot to my fans. They sent me a lot of get well soon cards and tweets. Even if it doesn't help that much, it's the thought that counts.

"Didn't you win like three?" The girl in front of me turns around and questions.

"Um, four," I admit.

Now, everyone's listening and seems slightly interested, which our teacher notices. After a few more of the same questions I'd heard all day, our teacher suddenly has what he thinks is an excellent idea. "Would anyone like to her performances at the Olympics?"

Everyone agrees and before I know it, my name's being typed in on YouTube and shown to the whole class on the SmartBoard. He shows my Uneven Bars, Vault and Beam events.

"What did you get the other two gold medals in?" a guy on the other side of the room asks.

"All Around, and then we won gold as a Team."

I don't mind answering all the questions that follow; I'm used to them. They're questions I normally get. The teacher puts on some more videos of me. While everyone is watching the videos in amazement, I look around the room. Near the back, I see the boy who was in the office earlier talking to one of his friends.

He looks up and catches me staring; he doesn't seem mad though. He actually smiles. Which is a big difference from swearing and running out of the room. I smile back, blushing madly.

"Why'd you stop?" someone asks, snapping me back to reality.

I blink. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Why'd you quit gymnastics?"

I look at the ground. I knew it would come up eventually, but why in a room full of people? "Um, I was doing my floor routine at a competition and in one of my flips, I didn't go high enough and I crashed." Everyone gasps. Apparently they didn't do too much research. I shrug and force a smile. Like that day doesn't haunt me every night... "I broke my leg and wrist badly so – "

"Paul?"

We all turn our attention to the back of the room where the boy from the office, who's apparently Paul, was shaking – almost like this morning. His friend, who had been the one who spoke, look worried. Then, just like this morning, Paul runs out of the room. Within seconds, his friend is right behind him.

"Paul! Jared! Where are you going?" The teacher calls helplessly then groans and mumbles, "I don't know about those kids."

As if that never happened, everyone turns to me, expecting me to go on. I don't. If they want, they can Google it, because if I keep talking, Paul and his friends won't be the only ones running out of class. Only I'll be doing it crying.

"That really sucks," the girl who asked the question admits.

You have no idea how much. No idea at all.

Haha, I love Paul :P He's so tempermental! Review maybe? :)