Authors: Beverly Lewis
“Call me later tonight.”
Jenna had tons of homework. “Maybe we’d better talk at school tomorrow instead.” “Okay. I’ll meet you at our locker.”
“See ya, Liv.”
They hung up, and Jenna rushed off to greet her mom and baby brother. “Where were you?” she asked, taking Jonathan from her mother’s arms.
“We ran out to buy some more cabbage,” her mother explained. “Your father’s having his deacon board meeting here on Saturday. He wants me to cook up some kimchi. Lots of it.”
“Sounds good.”
Jenna’s dad was the pastor of the Korean church in Alpine Lake. A small church in a small town. “We can grow . . . and we will,” he liked to say when discussing the prospect of attracting new Korean members and their families.
Jostling her baby brother on her hip, Jenna turned toward the kitchen window. She thought of her dad’s motto: “
We can grow, and we will
.” Would
she
grow? Or would she remain a teeny weeny forever?
Outside, the leaves on their trees were full and green—almost lacy-looking in the fading sunlight. Her mother’s red tulips were in full bloom. She stared at the smallest of a clump of aspen trees. The tiny one seemed alone, as it stood out and away from the others.
Stroking her brother’s soft head, she cooed to him in Korean. She was actually glad her mom had left the kitchen. “Why am I hung up on my size?” she whispered into baby Jonathan’s ear. “What’s it matter?”
But she did not breathe a word about Nels, the new spotter. Not in Korean or otherwise.
Better Than Best
Chapter Three
After supper, a light rain began to fall. Soon the April shower turned into a gale of thunder and lightning.
Glancing out her window, Jenna was actually glad for the storm. The weather suited her mood, after all. Rain was the ideal climate for studying for a history test.
American history bored her silly. She would much rather be studying Korean history—her family roots. Often, during class, she had to
make
herself listen to the teacher. She struggled to keep her mind from wandering, especially with gymnastics and ballet and all the thrilling summer events coming up!
She stared at the Olympic rings flag hanging high over her desk. Why was she required to study subjects that didn’t interest her? What a waste of her valuable time.
Gymnastics had always been the thing that pumped her up. For as long as she could remember. Since before preschool, she had been testing her balancing ability. On checkered floors, sidewalk cracks . . . anything. Jenna was three years old when her mother signed her up for the Tumble Tots.
She was tapping her pen on the desk top when Mom peered in the open bedroom door. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but—”
“Anytime you see this book, feel free,” Jenna said, waving the history textbook in the air. “And I’m
not
kidding.”
Mom grinned. “Just remember: If it’s not worth doing one-hundred-and-ten-percent, it’s not worth doing at all.” One of Mom’s all-time favorite sayings.
“I’m trying, but I can’t say it’s any fun.”
“Fun or not, you must keep up your grades.”
Nothing, according to Mom, should ever be done by halves. She believed that God expected—even
required
—our best, as His children. That was her life’s philosophy.
“Which leotards and warm-up suits do you want washed for the weekend?” Mom asked.
Jenna shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Just pick out two or three of each.”
Mom’s smile faded. “I thought you were excited about sports camp, honey.”
“I doubt it’ll be very cool,” she complained.
“But Coach Kim is bringing in a national team coach for the occasion,” Mom reminded her. “Won’t
that
be exciting?”
She still had gobs of studying to do. “I’d rather not talk about it,” Jenna said softly.
Mom touched her shoulder. “I’m here whenever, okay?”
Nodding, Jenna watched her mother head for her closet, pulling several leotards out of the hamper. “Thanks, Mom.”
Her mother scurried out of the room, arms loaded down with laundry. “That’s what mothers are for, right?”
Jenna couldn’t help thinking how similar her mom and Livvy Hudson were. In many ways, they had the same intensely focused, yet happy, approach to life.
She prided herself on having a cheerful attitude. But today she had to pour her thoughts and concentration into the monotonous history questions. Tomorrow she’d be glad she had stuck it out—crammed for the test.
Mom’s perspective on life rang in her ears. Doing your best affected every area of learning. Small or tall. Schoolwork was a good training ground for becoming an Olympic athlete.
She spent the rest of the evening preparing for the dreaded test. All the while, Sasha, her prissy kitty, kept her company on the computer desk, purring as if she had not a care in the world.
“Must be nice,” Jenna said, leaning her head against the golden-haired cat.
“What kept you so long?” Livvy asked the next day. She was primping in the mirror of their shared locker. “I thought you’d never get here.”
Jenna glanced at her watch. “I’m not late, am I?”
Livvy turned to look her over. “Not exactly.”
“Then what?”
“We have to talk,” Livvy whispered.
“About what?”
Livvy jerked her head toward the busy hall of students. “Check it out, over there.”
“Should I look now?” Jenna whispered back.
“It’s Nels Ansgar, the guy you told me about.”
Both girls turned to gawk—discreetly, of course—at a tall boy with golden hair. He was rushing down the hall to a locker on the opposite side.
“Look, he even strides like a gymnast,” Livvy remarked.
“You should see him on the uneven bars,” replied Jenna. “He makes it look so easy.”
“I hear he’s thirteen.” Livvy commented.
“That would put him in either seventh or eighth grade.”
“Probably eighth,” Jenna said. “He acts older, don’t you think?”
“Maybe he’s not enrolled here.”
“Then why’s he hanging out at school?”
Livvy ignored the question. “He’s just so tall and . . . cute.”
Everyone thinks tall is best
, Jenna thought.
“Why haven’t we noticed him around school before?” Livvy asked as they closed the locker.
“Maybe he’s new to town.”
“Are you sure?” Livvy asked, turning to look at Jenna.
“Not really. Maybe he’s a foreign exchange student.” She wondered about that. Maybe Nels
wasn’t
a permanent fixture here in Alpine Lake. Surely Cassie or Lara would know. Coach Kim and his wife would, too. Jenna wasn’t too curious or interested in sticking her neck out to get info. Not for a guy who was as tall as he was cute.
She could just imagine the ongoing distraction a team spotter like Nels might cause.
What
was
Coach thinking?
The history test was worse than Jenna anticipated. At one point she closed her eyes, trying to remember the pages she’d read last night. Why had she waited so long to study?
I need to change my game plan about American History class
, she thought.
Think of it as a gymnastics meet, where it’s best to train way ahead
.
Struggling through five essay questions, she decided she would begin studying tonight for the next test. What a monster of a test. Hardly any multiple-choice questions. Mostly true or false questions—the worst. You either knew it or you didn’t.
She took her time, going back to check and double-check her answers.
“Iron the small things,”
Coach Kim always said. Well, she’d have to transfer what she was learning at the gym into her school studies. Especially history.
When she was finished, she sat at her desk, staring at the first page of the test. She didn’t get up and turn it in right then. Instead, she prayed silently. She was sorry for putting off the studying part. She prayed she’d get a better-than-passing grade. If not, Mom and Dad would give her the third degree, asking why she’d bombed the test.
She had enough to think about without something like that!
Jenna, Cassie, and Lara worked on their aerial cartwheels for over an hour after school, following Natalie Johnston’s ballet class. They were really warmed up by the time they arrived at Alpine Aerials Gym.
But Nels had other ideas about warming up. With no effort at all, he’d gathered the girls around him. They watched, nearly transfixed, as he did his pirouettes and saltos with multiple grip changes on the uneven parallel bars. His flight was definitely high. No question, Nels was a superb gymnast.
“What’s this, a one-man show?” Jenna whispered to Cassie.
“He’s just practicing, that’s all,” Cassie said flippantly.
“Showing off, don’t you mean?”
“What’s
your
problem?”
“Sorry I asked.” Jenna turned away.
“He’s adorable, isn’t he?” Lara grabbed Jenna’s arm.
“You’ve lost your focus,” she shot back. As far as Jenna was concerned, Nels was hired help—here to help Coach and Tasya spot during sports camp. He would probably head back home to Europe, or wherever, after this weekend. End of story.
Both Cassie and Lara stood gazing at the new boy like he was an Olympic superstar. They were definitely flipped out.
“I don’t believe this,” Jenna muttered, walking toward the water fountain. “He’s going to be the end of us.”
“Who is?”
She turned to see Coach Kim looking up at her from his clipboard.
“Oh, uh . . . nothing,” she managed to say to Coach.
“Well, now, other than myself, there’s only one
male
in the gym at the moment.” His wry smile gave him away.
She could kick herself. Coach had heard her mumbling about Nels Ansgar.
What could she say?
Better Than Best
Chapter Four
Jenna made an attempt to explain herself to Coach Kim. But she was spared the embarrassment when the whisde blew for team warm-ups.
“Time to lead stretching exercises,” Coach said. He meant for her to get moving and fill her duty as captain.
Dashing across the maze of mats and equipment, Jenna met up with the girls. But it was Nels who had
her
whistle!
“Excuse me.” She put her hands on her hips. “
I’m
the team captain.”
Smiling down at her, he said, “Captain Song, is it?”
“Jenna.”
“Glad to meet you, Jenna Song. I’m Nels Ansgar.” Grinning, he handed over the silver whistle and stepped back, behind the girls’ lineup.
Jenna observed that he was only slightly taller than Lara Swenson. His smiling blue eyes and extraordinary good looks rattled Jenna. She even forgot to wipe off the whistle before putting it to her own lips.
Warm-ups went as well as could be expected. As long as Jenna kept her eyes on either Cassie, Lara, or the other girls, she was perfectly fine. But locking eyes with Nels made her flustered.
Did the other girls feel the same way?
During floor routines, Lara stumbled a lot. She was obviously off kilter. Lara had always been well-known for supercharged, brilliant performances. Consistently perfect. She nailed everything—tumbles, acrobatics, and sequences. Every time.
Not today.
Yet Coach was patient with Lara. He and Tasya guided her repeatedly through several sequences and dance movements. “Things will improve over time. . . .” His voice trailed off.
Jenna truly felt sorry for Lara. No longer was her friend a Dominique or Nadia look-alike. She was no longer a pint-size.
And Jenna felt sorry for herself, too. She
still
had a mini, little-girl body like young Domi and Nadia. She was always first in line of all her teammates when they were arranged as stairsteps at competitions and gymnastic events. But what Jenna wanted most was to be normal. To grow some more. To grow up . . .
What was so wrong with that?
Turning her concentration back to her floor exercise, she fought hard the urge to glance at the girls. All of them were cheering her on.
Coach Kim and Tasya had trained them to encourage one another. “Pump up your teammates,” Coach liked to say. “Work as a team. Work hard at caring.”
If one member stumbled, they all must feel the pain. The disappointment. Then push past the problem and succeed to perfection. They—all of them—were expected to move, breathe, and live the AAG motto:
Be your best. Be perfect
.
The motto kept her sharp, on her toes at all times.
Nels took his position as spotter.
I don’t need him
, she thought but wouldn’t cause a scene. She would just ignore him. Pretend he wasn’t there.
“Hit it, Jenna . . . hit it . . .” the All-Around Team chorused from the sidelines.
The force of their chanting, mixed with Nels’ slightly lower voice, inspired her. She was ready to give the routine her best shot.
“Be your best,” Cassie hollered.
I’ll try for better than best
, she thought. She would not miss this moment to excel.
The musical introduction to her floor exercise—“A Whole New World”—spilled out of the speakers. Jenna stared down at the square of carpet, forty feet by forty feet. She would complete each of her skills using every inch of the carpet space. And she would not allow her tiny feet to cross the line.
She saluted the imaginary judges, as she was taught to do. Both arms high over her head, she saluted as if to say, “Look at me! I’m ready to perform perfectly!”
Feeling the burst of confidence, she pointed her toes and began the dance sequence. Next came the tumbling pass. She was so jazzed, she nailed every layout, handspring, and salto. Best of all, she hit her final pose perfectly.
Coach was yelling, “You did it, Jenna! You were wonderful!” He hugged her, twirling her around.
She caught Nels’ eye just then. His face was way too serious. Instead of smiling, he was frowning. While the girls clapped and cheered for her, he remained motionless and silent.
Is he jealous?
she wondered.
It was starting to rain again when her dad parked in front of the gym. “How was practice?” he asked.
“Which one?” She had worked out both before school and after ballet, right after school.