Flooring It by Taylor Broadway (best biographies to read .TXT) 📕

enough for anyone to do flips on with a serious risk of getting hurt. Every time I jumped up there I put myself at risk, I could fall down onto the floor or I could slip and break my neck on the beam itself. The beam is a dangerous, dangerous place to be. The dangerous part is what makes the beam my favorite.
My feet are so used to being pointed that instead of getting horrible Charlie horses like I used to I welcome the point. My left foot pointed out in front of me, I tucked my head in and did an aerial somersault. After landing that I pirouetted forward into the frontward splits and just in time I caught myself. I was holding my body up off the beam with just enough room under me to smoothly transition as if I was on a pommel horse from the frontward splits to the regular splits. I eased me down onto the beam, laid on my back, gripped the beam and lifted me up and into a wacky handstand as Jerry would call it. I moved from the wacky handstand into a regular handstand position and then cart-wheeled to the left of me. When I stood up I pivoted to the right, flicked my wrists in the air, smiled wide and then turned to my left. I took one glance at the ground and in my mind I chuckled.
A Phillips is a balance beam skill first done by American gymnast Kristie Phillips. She first performed in 1987 World Championships. It consists of a handstand straddle split, with a 90 degree backbend, originally performed on the balance beam and press to side handstand, front walkover to side stand on both legs. If that doesn’t sound crazy to you than you are just as dangerous as I am. I went back into the handstand, which Jerry says to never repeat a stunt but this just worked, and I killed the Phillips. When I stood upright on the beam and looked at the floor again I did chuckle. Then I did a quick Arabesque to make the routine look pretty, not that the Phillips hadn’t done that. After that I prepared for an Arabian Front. One back handspring, half turn into a front salto and two twists. Then bam, my feet hit the ground and I give myself two second to recover before I shoot my head up in the air and smile.
I looked over at Jerry. His receding black hair was frazzled, no doubt he was about to pull it out when he realized I was going to do a Phillips. His wrinkled face was scrunched up as if he was pondering something and his eyebrows were still furrowed.
“Well,” I asked while I moved the spring board out of the way.
“Dylan did you come up with that yourself,” his faced eased out of the scrunch.
“Yes I did,” I smiled proudly.
“Dylan Laine Carvers that was point blank,” he paused, I was read for a scolding, “brilliant.”
He rushed over to me and scooped me up into a tight bear hug. I was really proud of myself then. I loved when Jerry approved of things, it made me feel special, but for him to call my idea brilliant I was nearly in tears! I wrapped my arms around his neck and he spun me around. When he finally put me down he turn towards the whole gym and smiled.
“We have a national champion,” he shouted lifting my arm in the air, “a true national champ right here.”
I looked around the gym at all the girls who stopped what they were doing and looked. They all clapped with smiling faces and I saw Amanda jumping up and down with joy. But that moment only lasted a little while, well Amanda’s moment lasted longer along with the other little girls. But the older girls went back to flipping off stuff and twirling. It made me wonder. . .
I knew there were certain girls in the gym that envied the time I spent with Jerry and who envied how close we were. To me Jerry was like a father instead of a coach. His wife was like a mother and his older son well we have a story. However, the girls saw him as a coach, a coach who spent so much time building one girl. I guess that is why even though I’ve been here longer than anyone except Jerry that the only friends I’ve made is coaches. Everyone else is just nice to me, and I am nice back.
I brushed that wonder away and let my pride take over. I strutted over to the little girls who were all too anxious to give me a hug or high five. Then I walked to the rest of the coaches who patted my back and messed up my ponytail. I did not head over to the older girls, the one working hard to hear the same words about them come out of Jerry’s mouth. I walked straight passed them and into the locker room. There stood my little piece of danger that even I was scared of.


Chapter two: Dangerous Distractions

I and only one other person can say that they have grown up at Scaggers Elite Gym. I came when I was four and now I am fifteen. I have spent 11 years at this gym and there is only one person I know, besides Jerry Scaggers himself, that has been here longer.
Mitchell Scaggers is 16 years old. He has a full head of thick, curly black hair so long that it covers his deep blue eyes. He has large, broad shoulders and thick, muscled arms. He has a tan and a deep country accent, which is probably the only thing that makes him fit into the Tennessee gym. Mitchell Scaggers is dangerous, and if you have been paying attention, you already know. But if you haven’t been paying attention, I tend to lean towards danger.
I officially fell in love with Mitchell when I was eight and I had to stay the night at Jerry’s house because my dad went out of town. I had to sleep in the basement room all alone and I was scared. Instead of sleeping, I wandered the house, which is large, until I found Mitchell’s room. I was not looking for his room, I swear, but when I walked in and saw all the gymnastics posters, I felt safe. So I sat on the floor and stared at all of them. Well soon, I got tired and I knew I should have gone back downstairs but I was too tired to walk that far. I was too tired to stand up on my own because when I stood up I nearly fell back down. My ninja reaction made me grab the closest thing to me and that happened to be a desk lamp. I pulled the lamp down and that made a loud noise, which woke up Mitchell.
Mitchell was nine then and when I told him my story he felt like he had to be the hero. At first, he tried to pick me up but he gave after he realized he was not strong enough to carry 67 pounds yet. So he held my hand and walked me to the basement. Then, and this is where the falling in love part happens, he climbed into the bed with me and held me so I would not be scared. Cute story isn’t it.
Well that was just the start. Jerry became almost like my official babysitter. Anytime my dad would leave out of town, which is frequently, I would go to Jerry’s. I started to hang with Mitchell, a lot. At Jerry’s house we usually watched movies or went swimming and at the gym Mitchell taught me how to “ride” the pummel horse, a pointless skill because I don’t have to use that. I became Mitchell’s best friend and he became mine. But as we got older, of course things changed, but in a good way.
Most gymnast’s puberty is delayed due to the facts that we are on an always changing schedule and we have trained our bodies by the time we are eight. I of course was the exception, growing a chest that was fairly large for a 14 year old, let alone a gymnast. So when I showed up to swim with Mitchell in a filled out pink bikini everything changed. I don’t think people noticed how much more I hung out with Mitchell. How many times I went swimming at his house or how many trips we took to the locker room at the same time. But here we are, Mitchell and I have been dating, not secretly because people can know if they want, for half a year.
“Dylan,” Mitchell smiled.
“Mitchell,” I giggled.
A mischievous look crept into Mitchell’s eye, a look I liked. He titled his head and frowned at me.
“Dylan why haven’t I seen you lately,” he stepped closer.
“Is yesterday not lately,” I raised and eyebrow.
“Not at all,” he was getting closer.
Mitchell stepped closer and closer to me, which wouldn’t have been a problem if I wasn’t so close to the locker room opening. Like I said, Mitchell and I aren’t a secret it’s just that no one knows about us. I’m pretty sure people wouldn’t seriously care if we dated, there is no crazy law in the gym that says you can’t date. But we keep it quiet because I might not be able to go to Jerry’s and hang with Mitchell if circumstances change, or if I was allowed I probably would be on serious lockdown.
“Mitchell,” I said cocking a hip out and placing my hand on it, “are you about to show everyone?”
“No silly,” but he still moved closer.
“Then why are you getting so close if you know we are in viewing range,” I was trying to tease but be serious.
He grabbed my waist and pulled me deep into the locker room, “I’m not stupid.”
“Oh really,” I ran my hand through his hair.
He was not nine year old Mitchell anymore, he could lift me off the ground easily and he did just that. Mitchell picked me up off the ground by my waist and I wound my legs around him. He tilted his head to the left a little and I knew what he wanted. I leaned in barely and let my lips touch his and then I pulled back.
“Are you stupid,” he frowned.
“Uh, no,” I gasped.
“Then why would you pull away,” and with that Mitchell pulled my face back to his
Mitchell was a different kind of danger to me. He’d known me since I was little, it wasn’t until I was eight that we had really started to get close, but still he has known me for 11 years. He knows my secrets, my strengths, my weaknesses. He knows everything about me and I know everything about him. Mitchell and I also have had many firsts together. Our first gym meets were together, slumber party, pool party, and national level competition. Mitchell was my first kiss too and I was his, he was the first person I kissed in the rain, at a movie theatre, at a mall, in a locker room. Mitchell was very dangerous to me.
He knew that too. He knew that every time he kissed me, like he was doing now, he became more dangerous. He became more of a threat to me. Not because we competed against each other, come on now. He became a threat