"Are you sure you can do this?"

"Certain as can be!"

"Really? Because I don't think I should be condoning this."

"It's only temporary."

"Exactly. You can afford to wait."

"You can't do this."

"I can and I will."

"Sir, you don't understand. This is what I live for!"

"I know, Harleen, but under your circumstances, you'll just have to wait. I don't want you hurting yourself."

"I won't. You said it yourself just last week. 'You've got what it takes to be a national champion. I believe it.' You can't take this away from me now."

"I'm not. I'm just postponing your training."

"Postponing it will weaken me."

"Getting injured will weaken you."

"I won't get injured."

"You probably won't, but the chances of it happening are high."

At this, Harleen grunted and turned her back to her trainer. He did not understand. She was just fine. The shards of glass barely damaged her eyes. Her contact lenses took most of the hit. All she had to do was wait for her new ones to come through the mail. Then, she would be good to go. This could have been faster if she did not have her fucking astigmatism. Fucking eye defect. Her throat was fine too. Nothing but bruising remained. She could breathe well enough.

"Harleen, see you next month all right?"

"A month is too long!" she cried, facing Dunley again. He could see the dread – or was that hate? – in her eyes. "I could do without the lenses, I swear."

"I believe you –"

"See? You believe me."

"The doctor says –"

"The doctor doesn't know shit."

"Language."

She crossed her arms and stomped her foot.

"I'm sorry," said Dunley, starting to leave the gymnasium.

The girl watched the man getting further and further until he almost reached the doors. In a last attempt to change his mind, she roared, threw her glasses away and ran as fast as a Mustang. She truly resembled one with her long blonde hair flowing in the non-existent wind. Her legs were elegant, and her body, pure svelte.

She thought she saw the blurry figure stop in his tracks. She had to make her move.

Harleen lunged forward into a roundoff, followed with a back handspring, into another back handspring, right into a double twisting layout. Time seemed to slow down while the gymnast was in the air. She could imagine herself bathing in the day's light with her hair loose and dancing around her form. Half of this was true: the day was cloudy. Her shape was indeed lovely. Time resumed to normal as her feet momentarily brushed the floor before sending her into a combination of front handsprings and aerials. She felt herself approaching Dunley and decided to finish off with a twisting double layout. She had the necessary speed, height and control required to execute it, even without a floor apparatus. Perfection was her goal. Passion was her motivation.

As she pushed herself into a back handspring, she saw, right beneath her right hand, the cum of Dr. Odin Markus and feared for the worst. Her hand slipped on the viscous liquid and her finish was flawed. She landed hard on her chin, her teeth chomping off a small portion of the tip of her tongue. The air rushed out of her lungs with no intention of returning.

The girl could see her fat ass professor laughing just a few meters away. His pants were around his ankles, his dick in his hands, and his laugh emanating like feedback. She wanted to cry but could not. She went to sleep instead.

Someone helped her up. Harleen dreamt it was The Joker. Ah, The Joker. Isn't he nice?