Perfect Ninety

-8

Saturday. The day most mindless, brainwashed, teenaged zombies spend on the internet throwing their own pity party and forcing a mental instability upon themselves while exaggerating the severity of their home life for likes on a status update. I don't have time for that. Saturday is the day I commonly have meets, which means another morning of waking up at 4:00. I check my bookbag to see if I did all of my homework--math and biology being my only core classes suggests that I don't. If I did, I'd have to do it on the car (or bus ride) there. My meet is at a gym two hours away and we won't start competing until about 7:30, with several other gyms vying for first--an artificial symbol of the perfection these girls cannot achieve in their home city. Some of these gyms come from a couple states over and act like it's a big deal to visit North Carolina. Unless your competition is on the coast or the mountains, don't anticipate your trip here. No sight-seeing or monuments--as far as they teach us in history class, North Carolina was basically desolate for a couple of decades and then a century later, we were "First In Flight." Any other place is interesting (New Hampshire, Missouri, Maine, Iowa, or Vermont, states that everyone forgot about but are the object of my admiration. 

After confirming the completion of my homework, I have to go into the bathroom and put on my game face. This consists of 3 pounds of dark blue glitter eyeshadow, bright red lip stick, and 2 cans of hairspray on my hair which took me about 30 minutes to curl. Then I have to put it all up in a ponytail with a nice combination of a headband, hairclips, and bobby pins, to secure my hair. If anybody on our team just put their hair up in a messy bun, Debra will scream her heart out because it looks like we didn't try and we'll have to do 200 rope climbs. That happened to Maya once, she put her hair up in a sloppy ponytail because her mom didn't have enough time to perm it or curl it the night before and Coach Debra pulled Maya from the meet and made her go back to the gym and do rope climbs and arm circles while we competed. 

Finally, I put on my leotard and then my team jacket and pants. I check my gym bag for everything I need (tape, grips, wrist guards, bag of chalk, and gymnastics shoes are the main things I search for). I just skim over the top of the bag for these important items, everything else is less significant to me. My mom is already awake bumping into the stove, like she always does. My dad is still asleep snoring extremely loud, which I shouldn't hear from my room. 

"Hey Anna, " my mom starts as she finds her way to my room. "I really hope you do good at your meet."

"Do well," I corrected. "Remember mom, action verbs and linking verbs. Besides, the only reason you want me to do well at this meet is because of the scouts from Energy Gymnastics Unlimited."

She runs a hand through her sandy brown hair and takes in a deep breath, which she doens't release for a while. You can see how the faitgue from the past 3 years has aged her. "Yes, Anna. I want you to do your best in every meet but in this one especially!" She tries to sound enthused but I know that this is the moment in my athletic career that she's been waiting for and I'm not supposed to let her down. 

I manage a grin and try not to cry because I spent at least 50 minutes in the bathroom perfecting how I look and I do not want it to be ruined because of how I perceived my mom's expectations. Why am I the only one on this team that everyone expects to do well? "Thanks mom, a lot. This really does mean a lot but remember, I'm just a kid. An ordinary daughter. Don't expect full twisting layouts off the beam, perfect 10's, and Olympic Trials. Just expect me, a clumsy teenager not all of the excitement of me doing well, " I confess to her. I'm not sure if any of this clicked inside of her mind or if it was because it was (let me turn around awkwardly and check my clock) 4:56 in the am and she was still asleep.

My mom smiled again and said, "I really hope you do good at your meet." I got my gym bag and pushed past her and sat down on the couch in living room, head in my hands and waited for everybody else to finish (or start) getting ready.