Flip for Me

Frank’s POV

Another day another two hours spent at Sylvia Bryant Academy. I practically live at this place; only having Saturday and Sunday off completely. You’re probably wondering what I do at SBA, right? Well, I’m a gymnast. Yeah, that’s right. My name is Frank Iero, I’m twenty-two years old, and I am a male gymnast. An award winning nationally recognized male gymnast at that.

I don’t know what it is that draws me to gymnastics. Maybe it’s the music, maybe the movement, but… I’m pretty sure it’s the competition. I love performing in competition especially when I get to see the look on my rival, Gerard Way’s face when I beat him! That guy has hated me since we met at New Jersey North Regionals six years ago. I don’t know why.

I was a measly sixteen years old when we met, finally starting to place in the fifteen plus age division. Despite what you may think, gymnastics competitions are pretty fierce. I was up against a friend from Sylvia Bryant and Gerard Way for the gold. Gerard goes to Belleville Men’s Gymnastics. Therefore he gets a lot of crap from his coaches and fellow gymnasts. You don’t go to Belleville Men’s and lose to a younger kid from a co-ed academy. It’s a huge disgrace. Gerard has only won one gold medal and it was at a competition I didn’t go to. I was injured with a broken toe.

Anyway, I was wrapping up my feet, careful not to twist the tape as I am known to from time to time. My coach Pete was stretching out on the floor and I promptly went to join him. Technically he isn’t my coach anymore. He’s really more like a mentor. Together we coach an 8-13 team on Monday nights. I’m training to become a coach myself.

“Frank, put some pants on!” Pete scolded me. “You’ll scare the kids!”

“Oh please, it’s not like they haven’t seen a guy in a leotard before!” I protested.

“Just do it, Frank. We have some new kids. I don’t want their parents to freak out when they see a well-endowed young man prancing around in a metallic blue leotard.”

“Fine.”

I grumbled and went to my bag. I love my bag. It’s a big black duffel with a pink-silhouetted gymnast and cursive script that says, “I flip for Gymnastics.” I pulled out some black knee-length sweat shorts and stuck my tongue out at Pete. He rolled his eyes. Pete’s a good decade older than me, but he’s in good shape. Although he doesn’t wear a leotard. Oh well. I keep telling him the black nylon pants, white t-shirt, and whistle make him look like a creepy high school gym teacher, but he ignores me. He always tells me it’d be way creepier if he were in spandex. I wouldn’t mind seeing him in spandex.

A few kids ranging from eight to thirteen years old were starting to shyly saunter onto the floor. Pete was telling them to line up in the center. When I came in a group of older girls giggled and pointed at me.

“He’s really cute.” One of them whispered.

I smiled at them and sat in front of the balance beam. Pete looked at me and shook his head.

“What?” I teased. “They have good taste, what can I say?”

The girl who called me cute turned around and I saw she had a Glee shirt on. I gasped and pointed at her.

“You’re my favorite!” I exclaimed randomly. “You’re not supposed to have a shirt on over your leotard, but I don’t care because yours is amazing!”

“Thanks.” The girl blushed. “You like Glee?”

“Who doesn’t?”

“Who’s your favorite character?”

“Kurt… And Finn. He is so fi…funny.”

Pete gave me a warning glance. I wasn’t really supposed to broadcast my sexual preferences to the younger students. It should be obvious, but Pete doesn’t want me to “taint their little minds.”

“Enough flirting.” My mentor sighed. “I’m Coach Pete and this is my helper, Frank. He’s been doing this since he was three and how many titles have you won?”

“Fifteen regional, twelve state, and nine national.” I beamed.

Some of the kids gasped. I felt like a celebrity all ready. The new team was amazing. My Glee friend is named Rachel and she’s really good! I can tell this is going to be a great year.