Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Chapter 1- This Is It

**********

This is it, I thought. This is the moment I've been waiting for my entire life, or at least since I was 3, which is when I started doing gymnastics. The past 14 years of my life have all lead up to this moment.

This is it. The 1996 United States of American Women's Artistic Gymnastics Olympic Trials. It was the first event- vault- and I, Ashley Marie Del Rossi, was up first.

The vault was a double back pike Yurchenko- my favorite vault ever. The judges announced my name. I saluted and they showed the green flag… and I ran down the runway. I hurdled- I did a round-off onto the springboard- hands onto the vault- double back pike flip- and I landed.

But then my left knee gave out- it twisted, and I fell over. I tried to stand back up, but my leg wouldn't support my weight. Something was wrong. Something was really, really wrong, but I'd be okay.

Apparently, my coach, Morgan Johnson, didn't think I'd be okay, because he came running over to me. And the only time a coach ever does something like that is if something is really, really wrong.

"Ashley, what happened?" he asked. "Are you okay?"

"I landed the vault, and then my knee gave out- it, like, twisted- and then I fell over, and I tried to stand up, but I couldn't, and it felt like my calf wasn't connected to my thigh." I explained. "But I'm going to be okay to compete, I promise. I'm not going to not compete in the rest of the events because of one stupid fall on vault." Hey, I'm a gymnast, and if there's one thing I've learned, it's to suck it up.

"Alright, well, let's get you over to the chairs so you can sit down." So Morgan helped me limp over to a chair, where I sat down.

"Ashley, I'm not so sure you should be competing like this," he told me. "You couldn't even stand up. How do you expect to tumble?"

"No, I'll be fine," I told him.

"I think you should get this looked at. Your knee is already swollen."

"Seriously, it's not that bad. It doesn't even hurt any more. I'm gonna go get my grips." I stood up, and tried to walk, but couldn't put any weight on my injured knee. "I can't stop now. This is the Olympic Trials! This is the most important meet ever."

"Ashley, you have to stop. If you compete the rest of the meet, it'll only get worse. I'm going to get your parents, and I'm going to suggest that they take you to the nearest emergency room."

"But what about-" I began, but Morgan was already on the phone- "the rest of the meet?" I finished feebly.

**********

The emergency room doctors gave me a knee brace and said no bones were broken, but they weren't sure what was wrong, so they told me to have an MRI back in my hometown in Maryland. Ten days later, I had the MRI, and six days after that, at my next orthopedist appointment, I got the diagnosis of my injury.

"Ashley, the MRI confirms that you have indeed torn your anterior cruciate ligament, or ACL. A torn ACL can only be repaired by surgery. Because you have finished growing, we will be taking a graft from your own patellar tendon, which is in the front of the knee," the doctor held up a model of a knee, "and using it to repair the ACL. You will be on crutches and wearing a knee brace up to a month after the surgery, and you will be in physical therapy for about six months."

"How long till I can start training again?" I asked. It was the only thing I cared about.

"Ashley," my mom, who was with me, said, "your father and I discussed this with Dr. Wilson, and we all feel that it's probably not a good idea for you to go back to training again. It'll just be too tough on your body, and I don't want you to get injured again, and if you were to go back, there's a pretty good chance you'd get hurt again. And you need to start thinking about where you want to go to college, and your father and I thought it would be really good for you to go to school this year. We just don't feel it would be safe or smart for you to go back to training."

"Don't I have a say in this?"

"We just can't let you go train. It's not safe. It's not a good idea," my mom repeated.

"I agree with your mother," Dr. Wilson said. "Going back to gymnastics just isn't safe."

**********

Finally, it was Tuesday, September 4th, 1996- my first day of school. I was to be a senior at La Plata High School. It was my first day at a real school since I was 12; starting in seventh grade, I was home-schooled, so I could have more time to train. I had had the surgery to repair my ACL two weeks previously, but was still on crutches.

When I got to school, my mom helped me find the main office, and then I told her I wanted to do the rest on my own, so I did. I went up to the secretary and introduced myself, and she gave me my schedule, locker number, and locker combination. She also told me that for the first week, while I was still on crutches, they'd assigned me a "buddy", who was in most of my classes, to help me find everything and get around. She said his name was Benjamin. I wondered if Benjamin was a loser. He probably was, I told myself.

Soon enough, a dark-haired boy walked in to the office and said, "Hi, I'm Benjamin, I'm here to meet Ashley?" he finished, as if it was a question. Benjamin had dark brown hair and eyes, and wore all black clothing, a padlock necklace, and the rattiest black Converse sneakers I have ever seen.

"I'm Ashley," I said.

"I'm Benjamin, but you can call me Benji. I guess I'll be helping you get used to things and I'll help you carry your books, or whatever. What happened to your leg?"

"What, you didn't hear?" From the stares and whispers I'd gotten as I'd walked in to the school, it seemed as if most people knew who I was, and what had happened.

"Um, no, actually."

"I was at the Olympic Trials, and I tore a ligament in my knee." There had indeed been an article in the local newspaper about my injury.

"Wow. Wait, Olympic Trials?"

"Gymnastics," I nodded. "And had I not been injured, I probably would've gone to the Olympics, and I would've been one of the 'Magnificent Seven', you know, with the gold medals, but obviously things didn't go as planned."

"Wow. Um, well, let's get to your first class. What do you have?"

"Um, first period," I glanced at my schedule, "it looks like I have French 4 with Madame Legrande, in room 142."

"Sweet, we're in French together. Follow me."

**********

The first three periods- French 4, American History, and Art 1- I all had with Benji. He was in my fourth period class, too.

"Gym?" I said, looking at my schedule. "I can't do gym, look at me."

"Don't worry. Nothing's going to be happening today, they'll just be assigning lockers, so while everyone is doing that, I guess you should probably go up to the teacher, and she'll help you get a study hall at the same time."

So when it was time, I took Benji's advice, and went up to the gym teacher, an upper-middle-aged woman, Mrs. Brown.

"Um, hi," I said. "I'm new here, I'm Ashley Del Rossi. See, they put gym on my schedule, but I can't really do gym class right now, and my friend said I should talk to you to get put in a study hall."

"Of course, Ashley. Tomorrow, bring in a doctor's note to the office, explaining that you need to get out of gym, and the secretary will print you a new schedule. But I do hope that this winter, you'll be well enough to join the La Plata High gymnastics team."

"Actually, I'm not eligible to compete in high school gymnastics because I've competed at the international level." Actually, I'm not allowed to compete because I've torn my ACL.

"Oh, well, that's too bad," Mrs. Brown said.

**********

The next period was lunch for Benji and I both. As we walked in to the cafeteria, everyone stared at me.

"Let's go sit over there," Benji suggested, pointing to a table in the corner. "That's where my friends and I always sat last year. My friends should be here soon." I followed him to the table, and we sat down.

I saw three guys, all dressed in black like Benji- one of them even looked like Benji- talking to each other and pointing at me, and walking towards our table.

"Yo, Benji, is this the new girl? The gymnast?" The boy who looked like Benji asked.

"Yeah, this is Ashley Del Rossi," Benji said.

"Hi," I said. "I'm Ashley. What are your names?" I asked.

"I'm Billy," said the one sitting to the left of Benji (I was sitting to Benji's right).

"I'm Paul," said the one sitting across from Benji.

"I'm Joel," the last one, was sat across from me, said.

"Benji, are you and Joel-"

"Yes, we're twins," Benji finished for me. "Sometimes we even-"

"-finish each other's sentences," Joel said.

"Cool."

"Yeah, it's pretty cool, except for when Joel's being an idiot," said Benji. "But anyways. What about you? What do you think of La Plata so far?"

"It's pretty cool. I was homeschooled for the last five years, though, so this is pretty different."

"Why were you homeschooled?" Paul asked me.

"I was training for six hours a day. I didn't have time to go to regular school." I explained.

"Oh. So how long until you can do gymnastics again?"

"Oh, actually, I can't go back. I had to stop."

"That sucks," Billy interjected.

"Yeah, but, whatever," I shrugged.

**********

Right after lunch, I went to AP Physics in room 202; Benji went to regular Physics next door in room 203. Then, we both went to English 12 in room 312 (because I was on crutches, we were allowed to use the elevator). Finally, it was time for the last period of the day.

"So what class do you have now?" Benji asked me.

"AP Calculus in room 111. Are you in my class?"

"Um, no, actually," he laughed. "I stink at math. I'm in Pre-Calculus with the juniors. But it looks like our classes our near each other- I'm in room 108- so I can help you find your class."

"Thanks," I said.

"You're welcome."

**********

Benji's POV

That day, Joel and I walked home from school, and, as usual, sat down at the kitchen counter.

"So, Benji, what do you think of Ashley?" Joel asked me.

"She's cool," I said. "She's really smart. She's taking AP Calculus and AP Physics."

"Wow."

"I know. And in French, she started speaking, like, fluently, in French!"

"Impressive. But, what do you think of her?"

"What?"

"Dude, she was almost in the Olympics!" Joel exclaimed. "And she's hot."

"Yeah, I guess." I said, trying to sound casual. Ashley was hot.

A few minutes later, my mom came in to the kitchen.

"Hi, boys, how was your first day of school?"

"Good. Guess what? You know how I got recruited to be a 'buddy' for a new student? Guess who it is?" I said, excited.

"Who?"

"Ashley Del Rossi- you know, the gymnast!"

"Wow, Benji, that's great," she said. "You know, I was thinking, does she live far from here?"

"No, like right around the block. Why?"

"I think you should go over to her house, and bring her something. To welcome her to the school."

"Mom," Joel interjected, "she's not a new neighbor, or anything. She's lived in Waldorf for years. She's just new to the school." Our mom did, in fact, make us introduce ourselves and bring something over- usually baked goods- every time someone new moved in.

"Joel, it's always a nice thing to go over and introduce yourself, to really welcome someone."

"We've already met her," said Joel.

"Benji, will you please go over to Ashley's house? I think it would be really nice. I'm going to bake some brownies, and I want you to bring them over."

"Um. Okay." I said.

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