My Full Potential by Aerin Matley (little readers .txt) 📖

I am a closet figure skater. There, I said it. I’m one of those little skinny girls that skate around the rink in a little skimpy dress and rainbow glitter and skin colored tights. Why am I so keen on not letting this get out? Well, to my friends, I’m one of the most tomboyish girls there ever was. And I used to be that tomboyish girl, but then one of my acquaintances had an ice skating birthday party and that was the end. There was something alluring about the slight chill around the rink, something intoxicating that came over me when I landed a double axel.

But my friends don’t care about that. They can’t see past the sparkly outfits. Don’t get me wrong, I love them to death, but sometimes I need a girly moment. And I don’t let them see those moments.

My girly moments happen on the ice, in front of the hundreds of people that watch the skating competitions I take part in. My girly moments happen when I nail a routine and flowers shower down around me and I know that I placed first.

See, I’m good

. People ask me for help on their skating. Little girls in the novice class at the rink say that I’m their role model. I’ve actually signed a few autographs.

I would like to go to the Olympics, but this is where I hit a snag. Do I want to let my friends know that I skate? Surely they’d notice that someone with my name that looks exactly like me is skating for the medal. Surely they would see that the times that I say I’ve been babysitting or doing homework or visiting family were really spent at the rink, perfecting my lutz.

Or do I hope and pray that they won’t watch the figure skating section—were I to get to the Olympics—and that they wouldn’t notice me?

I want to keep them as my friends. I’ve known them for forever. But I want to be able to be myself, too.

-0-

I grab my bag and head into Andrea’s living room. As much as I would like to stay here and hang with my friends forever, I have to get to practice.

“Hey, guys, I gotta go,” I say, tapping my watch and gesturing to the door. They don’t say anything. They just look at the computer screen in front of them.

I walk over. “Guys?” I ask, hesitantly looking at the screen. To my horror—maybe—it’s me on the screen; me at regionals a few months ago. How did they find out?

“Why didn’t you tell us you were a skater, Kat?” Andrea asks, looking at me like I just killed her puppy.

“Umm…” I got nothing.

“She didn’t want us to know because we don’t like skaters,” Jackie says, walking forward slowly. She eyes me. I don’t know what to think—is she mad? Is she explaining?

Andrea turns away from her and to me. “Is that true, Kat? Are you afraid of what we would say?” she asks softly.

I nod slightly. I don’t want to hurt their feelings.

“Sweetie, we couldn’t care less if you were a skater or not,” Jackie says, sitting me down on the couch. “In fact, we’re glad that you found something you like.”

Andrea nods.

I smile a bit.

“However,” Andrea says, “we do care that you lied to us. We don’t care what it’s about, but we want to know if there’s anything else you’re keeping from us.”

I roll her statement over in my mind, trying to think if there was anything else that they needed to know. I decided there wasn’t. Or maybe there was.

“I placed second at sectionals. People say that if I really concentrate I could go to the Olympics in a few years.”

This is actually more exciting than I make it sound. I would love it if I could go and compete with the best in the world.

“Really?” Jackie asks, her eyes wide. “You’re that good?”

I nod sheepishly. “But I do have to get to practice. Could one of you guys give me a ride?”

“Just tell us where we’re going,” Andrea states, grabbing her jacket and car keys.

-0-

I watch the scoreboard excitedly, hoping beyond anything I have ever hoped before that I can pull in front of Marie DuPoint. She’s one of the most promising in the business and a major competitor. And I was a bit shaky on a few of my spins. Or at least I thought so. My coach had a different opinion.

The numbers, which should slow my wildly beating heart, only make it go faster. My score isn’t as high as my personal best, but it beats Marie. And that will keep me in a good mood for a few days to come.

As I was the last skater to go, I put on my jacket and pants and regular shoes, then drink a bottle of water and head out into the early evening sunset rays, happily not thinking about the rigorous practice session I would have tomorrow.

“Hey, Kat,” Jackie says, she and Andrea walking up behind me. “I guess we see now why you would be happy for a few days for no apparent reason.”

I nod, smiling at them. “Has it hit you yet that I have a girly side?”

Andrea shakes her head and Jackie grins. “No,” Andrea says, “but be ready tomorrow for a few questions.”

And it was then that I realized that it didn’t matter if I made it to the Olympics. If I didn’t have my friends beside me when I earned it, it wouldn’t have been my full potential.

Publication Date: 07-25-2011

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