Page 47 of Full Split
It helps that the coaches don’t waste time treating me like a special case. They couldn’t care less what’s in my pants or what some hothead political douche thinks of me. In here, I’m just another athlete. A contender. Someone they’re counting on to bring home gold.
Unfortunately, the outside world and media circus surrounding my presence here still exist. Case in point, my current situation.
I’m sitting down with one of the national coaches and a couple of people who work with the press and legal teams. Coach Harris is a bald, no-nonsense guy who’s known for being brutally honestand to the point. And true to that reputation, he has zero time or patience for media bullshit.
We were called in early this morning to discuss the Peter Trenton situation.
Peter tested positive for PEDs after Nationals. It took less time to check in to our hotel than it did for the news to hit us the moment we walked into the training complex.
Our first clue was running into Cody Jenkins on our way to our first day of training. He gave us a quick rundown, and then almost immediately, I was called away into the head coach’s office for a meeting with the legal and public relations teams.
“Let me get one thing straight,” Coach Harris says. “I don’t give a damn how big your dick is.”
I cough, caught off guard by just how blunt he’s proving himself to be.
“I care about whether you can vault the way you did at Classic and Nationals.”
“Oh.” I shift awkwardly, noticing how the legal and public relations reps are whispering to each other. Probably worried about Coach’s mouth getting them in more trouble. “Yeah. I can do that.”
“Good.” He leans back. “That’s all I need to know. Now let’s get this bullshit over with so we can get to work.”
Feeling more confident about my place here than I have thus far, I relax a little and listen to Marci, the team’s public relations rep, explain exactly why I need to be part of this meeting.
As it turns out, I’m here because Peter is blaming his test results on me. He’s claiming his sample was tampered with, and that he saw me hovering around the collection site. He even claimed that he thinks the national team admin allowed it to happen because they, and I quote, “don’t like him.”
Obviously, it’s absolute bullshit. Even the legal and PR reps assure me that no one believes his claims to be true, and even if they did, it wouldn’t have been possible. The test samples undergo a very specific and secure collection process that no one other than the third-party laboratory has access to. There are a myriad of precautions meant to assure security, privacy, and accuracy that can easily be proven to deny his claims.
The only reason I’m here is for them to let me know they’re on my side in this, and to ask me not to make any public statements or respond in any way, including on social media. They’ll be asking the rest of the team to do the same.
“Let us manage this, and you just worry about bringing home the gold.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
It’s not until our short lunch break later in the day that I’m able to touch base with Weston and Cody. I tell them what happened in the meeting, and Cody tells us about getting the call that he was being brought in as Peter’s alternate.
I’ve always liked Cody. Though we’ve never spent much time socializing, he seems like a good guy. We have a few things in common, most notably a drive to prove ourselves. When he mentions that he’s grateful for the opportunity, but he’s sad about how it happened, I find myself agreeing with him.
I kind of feel bad for Peter.
Weston’s jaw drops incredulously. “You seriously feel bad for him? Dude was a complete asshole to you.”
“Yeah, and he got what he deserved,” I say. “He’ll continue to get what he deserves as long as he continues acting this way. But it’s a shame things had to happen this way. He’s a good gymnast.”
“Being a good gymnast doesn’t make you a good person.”
“True. But… I don’t know. Pressure does things to people. I know what it’s like to feel like you’re not enough. That you could lose everything if you don’t push harder to prove yourself. I think maybe Peter just cracked. And now he’s lost everything.”
“Feeling bad for the guy doesn’t mean his behavior is excusable,” Cody says.
“You don’t know the half of it,” Weston says. I kick him under the table. I’ve still kept Peter’s harassment to myself, much to his and Wyatt’s dismay.
“It doesn’t matter now,” I say. “It’s over. He’s not here. All I’m saying is, I wish he never felt like he had to sink to this level to get ahead.”
“Well, at least we don’t have to put up with his bullshit while we’re here,” West says, and to that I raise my protein shake to clink against his.
He’s right. Without Peter here, it’s so much easier to focus. The camp is loaded with talented team members, some of whom are older, returning gymnasts. We’re fitting in well, making friends, trading tips, spotting each other, and joking between rotations. For once I’m not on edge, waiting for the next jab or inappropriate comment.
Instead, I get to enjoy being treated like an equal. Like I belong. And I’m enjoying the camaraderie even more than I expected.
