I am posting this without editing it or sending it to my beta, so I apologize for any mistakes.

I have a few things to say so I apologize for the long A.N. I have received yet another flame: that is five for the last five chapters. Concerning this, I have two things to say.

One, I want to thank my faithful reviewers and supporters. I feel like all I have been talking about lately are the flames. I really do appreciate you guys though, and hope you will continue to show me your support through reviews.

Two, to the flamers, or flamer: I just want to say if you want to flame this, go right ahead. I am sick of you ruining my story for me and making the others wait for an update because I am too pissed off to write. So say whatever you want, because I am going to write this story my own way, and I will update when I can. If you want to waste your time trying to put me and my story down, have fun, because that all it is a waste of your time. Not mine or anyone else's and it is not detrimental to me or anyone but yourself.

"Ha, I beatcha!" I squealed, pumping my fist in the air in triumph.

It was a few weeks later, and with a ton of hard work, I had finally managed to beat Jacob. I lagged behind him for most of the five mile uphill trek, but when we scaled the final hill, I pushed myself.

He had the height advantage, with longer legs, but I put all of my weight and muscle behind me as I catapulted my body ahead of his by a few lengths.

Jake collapsed in the grass, panting hard as I danced around in victory. I cart wheeled- my wrist being almost completely healed; a little shaky, but getting stronger every day.

I flopped down in a split beside his head. "Hey, I thought swimmers, were supposed to be tough? I laughed throwing his earlier words back into his face.

He ignored the jibe, and my jubilant mood, suddenly turning serious.

"You know Bells," he said, using a shortened version of the nickname Quil gave me. "The only way you are ever going to know if you are ready, is to get back into the gym. You are in the best shape I can get you in, now it's up to you."

I avoided looking in his eyes. "Jake, I don't know if I can even do it anymore. I can't go back in that gym and face them all. I want to, but I just can't." I blinked back tears.

"So don't go back to them," he said as if it was the easiest solution in the world. "But you do need to get back into training."

"But where? I can't go to a gym in Seattle without anyone knowing, and I am not ready to go public until I am sure I still have it."

"I never said anything about Seattle."

I looked at him in puzzlement and slight irritation, his zen-know-it-all-attitude was getting on my nerves. "Huh?" I questioned.

He stood up. "Come on, I have something to show you."

He held out his hand to help me up. I took it, and followed him curiously.

He led me to a small building on the edge of their property that I had never noticed before.

Jake opened the door and flashed the lights on, but before I could investigate, he covered my eyes with his hands.

I was forced to follow him blindly as he led me into the building. I allowed my other senses to explore.

I smelled the familiar smell of magnesium chalk, but it was slightly dusty smelling. I felt the smooth feel of mats under my feet as we walked forward. Before my brain could put the pieces together though, I was lifted into the air and placed on something very familiar.

"A balance beam!" I stated.

"Not just that," Jake said, removing his hands from my eyes. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw a gym. A real veritable, full of equipment, gym. It wasn't as top class as the Cullen's new gym, but it was perfectly serviceable.

"What is this?" I questioned, swinging my legs back and forth.

"Well, before my mom, Sarah, died," Jake explained. "She taught gymnastics. When she had the accident, my dad couldn't bear to continue the lessons, but he also couldn't bear to get rid of the gym, or take it down. I cleaned it all up for you and checked the equipment, so it is all safe and everything…"

Before he could finish his sentence, I had sprung myself off the beam, and was hugging him as tight as I could. "It's perfect!" I squealed. "Thank you, thank you, thank you Jake! It's perfect! How can I thank you?"

He laughed at my exuberance. "Just go do some flips or something. Show me what you've got."

I smiled and headed to the beam. Just to make him laugh, I did a round-off whip, just to 'do some flips, or something.'"

I started just getting my bearings on the beam. I wanted to throw some tricks, but too many years of 'floor first," training kicked in.

Once I was sure I was warmed up, I slid off the beam and walked to a point of the floor where there was a painted line.

I threw a few basic tricks until I was satisfied. I knew I was capable of much harder tricks, but I also knew that I needed to work my way back up into top form first. I had to work to my limitations at the moment, as much as it killed me to do so.

I glanced over at Jake a few times, worried that he might be bored, but every time I caught sight of him, he seemed perfectly content to just be watching me as I threw tricks.

He was lounging back on some mats, but his eyes followed each move I made, as though trying to figure me out.

I had started on balance beam, because that apparatus took the most confidence. I knew if I get my skills on the balance beam back, I could do it all.

Knowing I was as prepared as I could get at the moment, I left the white practice line, and eyed the beam speculatively. I wanted to try my signature mount, but I had trouble with that when I was in the best shape of my life, and it probably wouldn't be any easier when I was out of competition shape, and hadn't done it or any hard trick on the beam in a long time.

I decided not to push it too much, but to still test myself. I decided to try an older routine that was slightly easier.

I placed my hands on the beam hip length apart, and balanced my weight gingerly on my hands, testing my weight on my recovering wrist. As it wasn't painful, I pushed off into a handstand. As I was coming into the handstand, I arched my back a little and bent my legs artistically. I held the pose for a second, but in my arch, I had overextended a little, and that was all it took.

I tried desperately to recover and keep myself on, but all I managed to do was slide right off and onto my butt.

"Bella! Are you ok?" Jake asked, running over to me concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I answered, exasperated at my fail.

The second time I tried it to similar results. "Maybe you should try a different mount?" Jake suggested timidly.

"No," I practically growled. "My wrist just isn't used to supporting my weight yet."

I studied the beam for a few minutes before I tried again, this time I pictured myself doing it perfectly, and lo and behold, I hit it perfectly.

Jacob cheered, and I allowed myself a brief smile, before focusing wholly again.

I did a few 'fluff' moves to get me to about a third of the way down the end of the beam. Once there I pirouetted. Taking a deep breath, I flipped forward and then twice backwards in a front layout back handspring, back layout step-out combination.

In other words, I flipped my body forward in an extended position, then still in motion, flipped back until my hands touched the beam, pushing off in the air backwards again. This time I was also in an extended position, and when I landed I took a step back, finishing the 'step-out' part of the combination.

Ok so I admit it wasn't picture perfect, and I almost fell off, but held on by pure determination. I wobbled and had to swing a leg out, but I kept myself on the beam.

Alright, I thought to myself. I might be able to do this.

I tried a sheep leap into a side semi. A sheep leap is a hard move on its own, because you lose sight of the beam when you bend your head back to meet your pointed toes. The combination made it that much harder.

I landed it pretty well, and only had a slight pause before I jumped into my side semi.

This I didn't land so well. I wind-milled my arms trying to stay on, but I had flipped with my shoulders too misaligned with the beam, and there was no recovery. I landed perfectly on my feet, but not on the beam, on the mat below it.

I got back on, but just couldn't land it no matter how many times I tried. I knew it would come with the numbers though. The more times I did the skill, the more confident and perfect I would get it.

After awhile I gave up on beam. I would have enough bruises for awhile. Instead I began to work on some of my dance elements on floor to end on a good note.

The time flew by and soon I had to go make dinner for Charlie.

I brushed off all the chalk the best I could and got changed as soon as I got home so he wouldn't be suspicious of my chalked covered self.

It was Jake and my secret for now, and I thanked the Gods that I had met him. Only a teenage guy would think nothing of keeping the fact that I was attempting dangerous skills that could kill or maim me without a coach a secret from our parents.