Arlington (Book One)

Chapter Ten

"I didn't know you could do gymnastics," he says once I finally sit back down.

"I was a potential candidate for the Olympics team a few years back," I say casually.

"You're kidding me!"

"No, if I hadn't grown three inches in nine months, I probably would have gone..."

"What do you mean?"

"I learned how to do all of my routines with a body that was five foot two. I grew so much so rapidly that I hard time accommodating the extra height. Although my final performance was flawless with the exception of a single balance check on beam, I still didn't make the team..."

"You're kidding," he says surprised.

"There is a certain look a gymnast is supposed to have, which I certainly didn't have with my height and demeanor. The fact that I wasn't one hundred percent. in combination with the other factors, just pushed them further not to accept me," I say honestly.

"That's terrible," he says surprised.

"It's okay, after that I threw myself into my studies and got a full ride to my dream school. All's well that ends well," I say with a shrug.

"So, you just quit?"

"Yes," I say seriously. I have never regretted it.

"You didn't want to try again?"

"By the time the next Olympics were to come around I would have been twenty and that's old for a gymnast..."

"So, you left? That seems so unlike you," he says.

"When I was a kid my dad put me in gymnastics and karate in order for me to learn to expel the excess energy I was always consuming and feeling around me. I not only am very aware of every little thing going on in my body but every little thing going on around me Xander. That's hard for a little five-year-old to deal with. I couldn't focus in class and would always hide in the corner. By learning to control my body it became easier to ignore everything around me."

"My dad made me do soccer and football as a kid," he says in understanding.

"I guess that explains how you could keep me from smashing into the ground when I ran into you," I tease, and he laughs.

"Lots of practice," he teases back. His phone rings, and he takes the call.

"Hey Cathleen," he says.

"No, I'm not in Aviva's lab wasting time. I was checking in on some of our other teams," he says getting up and leaving. I silently crack up. He did wander his way here a lot; he is fun to talk to, so I don't mind the short breaks.

I put away my tinkering and continue working on the blueprints for a bigger more powerful version of my power source. I think I am going to call it the Arlington Five Thousand. I don't think anyone would take any issue with the name of it.

Days tick by slowly as I wait for the competition to come around. I buy myself a new outfit; write emails to my teachers explaining why I was going to be absent. I finish my blueprints for the larger model, and I think it could effectively power a house. I started working on an even bigger one to power an apartment complex, but the price would be insane, and I can't get the amount of power I need.

On the day before the competition, Alexander helps me pack everything up and we take a train to Washington D.C., all of the supplies went separately from us. Before I know it, I am in my best pants and my new, favorite blazer, an emerald green one, walking on the floor where they are setting up all of the displays. I guide the setup and hang my blueprints for the larger version. I wander around for a bit before returning to my station. Today the judging would occur but that didn't happen till the afternoon. The morning is mostly for us to explore other people's projects and scope out the other competition.