Captain Crunch
Title: Captain Crunch
Author: Um. Santa.
Pairing: Memmel/Hagerty
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own, know, or have them trapped in my closet. Or Captain Crunch. Although I happen to love the Captain.
Summary: Chellsie's having a rough morning.
Author's Notes: Ugh. Peer pressure :D From a series? Maybe? But it has no name or plot yet!
She is thinking of everything and nothing at the same time. No coherent thoughts, merely a pressing weight sitting on her shoulders, making her mind feel heavy. She’s conflicted. Nastia smiles lightly to herself, a soft twitch of her lips that only she seems to notice, and the anchor around her heart sinks again. She begins to picture herself atop the podium, unable to contain the beaming smile that’s gracing her features as the medal is hung around her neck. She thinks of all the attention the other girl is getting and wonders if she would handle it so well. Question after question (all of them asking the same thing) are being fired at her, but she’s poised. She’s so happy that it doesn’t matter how many times she has to explain what she felt when she realized she won. The fact is, she won.
But when those words flash across her mind, it hits her that she didn’t win. The All-Around victory is not hers, but rather belongs to one of her biggest rivals. How could she be truly happy? She is jealous and slightly angry. More at herself than anyone else, but when she sees Nastia smiling so contently, a twinge of hatred always seems to pass across her eyes. She feels like she’s supposed to be angry, that since her Olympic dreams did not turn out near how she had hoped, no one would blame her for a little shouting. She even sees herself doing it.
But then someone gently touches her arm, and the images are gone, replaced with the bustling, Beijing cafeteria. It’s Nastia whose fingers are on electric on her skin, silently offering comforting words to the obviously melancholy older girl. “We’re heading back up, you coming?” she asks with soft eyes and Chellsie immediately feels guilty for even imagining hating the girl. She can’t. Nastia worked just as hard as she did, and never once did she let their rivalry on the mats get in the way of their friendship.
But Chellsie sees the barely touched plate of food on the table in front of her, and realizes that she’s starving even if she can’t seem to make herself eat. She replies that she’s going to finish eating first, while trying to convince Nastia (and herself) that she’s okay, just with her tone of voice. Her friend doesn’t buy it -neither does she- but only hesitates for a moment before turning to catch up with the rest of their pack. They have a silent understanding between themselves; while Alicia and Sam are convinced that the best way to heal a broken soul is by being touchy-feely and expressive, she and Nastia prefer to operate on a more solitary scale.
Her friend will give her space for a few days, but if the unnecessary emotions endure longer than that, words will be had.
She finds herself alone at the table, although the hundreds of other athletes in the cafeteria create a buzz that she can’t ignore. The seats beside her fill up rather quickly, but it’s the one that is directly in front of her that captures her attention. She allows her eyes to drift towards the occupant, and finds herself momentarily surprised that she actually knows this person. Knows him fairly well even. She doesn’t know where he came from, but can’t quite bring herself to ask him because he’s fidgeting nervously in his seat, right leg bouncing quickly with anxiety. He might have slid a few spots over, she thinks, but it doesn’t really matter. At the same time, she wonders why he’s nervous and if it might have something to do with her. Is he afraid that she’ll start crying? Surely she doesn’t look that distraught.
Her food remains untouched as she defers to watching him push the Captain Crunch around his bowl, the other hand rapping softly on the table. She hesitates for a moment, gnawing on her lip before putting on a bright façade, and greeting him. “Morning, Joey.” He looks up briefly, flashes a quick smile, and shoves a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. They’ve never talked much, both preferring to stick to their own little groups, so she wonders. About him, his relationship with the other guys, how long he’s been in gymnastics, she just wonders. It never occurs to her that for once, her mind isn’t focused on Nastia’s gold. It never occurs to her, because she’s focused on him even though she can’t quite figure out why.
Her concentration is so shot that she’s only brought back to reality when she drops her fork and the sharp clatter rings through her ears as it hits her plate. She’s slightly embarrassed that her heart skipped a beat, but the only one that seems to notice the noise is Joey. He doesn’t say anything at first, merely pausing in his actions, and peering at her curiously. The side of her lip quirks upward in a half smile, the color in her cheeks slowly reddening as she picks up the fork again.
“Hey.”
The words are soft as they leave his lips, but she’s well aware that he’s speaking to her. Her eyes lift upward quickly, curiously. She notices that he still looks anxious about something, although she can’t figure out what. “What you did out there….that was pretty awesome.” He throws her a soft smile and a slight nod, before continuing, “Silver’s a hell of a lot prettier than dinky old bronze. And you got it with a bum ankle. A fighter if I ever knew one.” Chellsie doesn’t know what to say, at first, mainly because she’s shocked that he can read her so well even though it’s unlikely they’ve ever held a real conversation. A “hey” here and there, talk about gymnastics of course, but nothing deep. Nothing revealing.
Her mouth dangles slightly open for a moment as a pressure builds behind her eyes, even though she can’t figure out why. She wants to cry. There’s no reason too, but her heart is telling her otherwise. A shaky thanks slips from her lips, but her gaze does not meet his. Instead, it’s stuck on the foreign food littering her untouched plate. But Joey manages to recognize the look again, and finds a way to save her even more embarrassment.
“I can’t believe you’re going against the Captain to eat that. No wonder you haven’t touched it,” he says with a falsely disgusted look at her meal followed by a slightly off-center smirk. Before she can understand what has transpired, she’s laughing earnestly, something that hasn’t happened too often in the past day and a half.
“Am I the only one that wants an actual Beijing experience? Everyone else and their Captain Crunch. I’m amazed.”
“I think I’ve got enough of the experience with the transportation system they’ve got here. I thought people were joking when they mentioned sardines, but you know what? They weren’t.” She can’t help but laugh again, because he’s so right. And yet at the same time, she still doesn’t think that’s enough. At least she wants to branch out of her comfort zone a little, unlike the rest of the gymnastics troupe. But mainly, she wonders when the day became lighter, when things meant less. When he sat down? Even though a weight seems to have lifted from her shoulders, she still can’t find the energy to pick up a fork and eat, something that he seems to catch.
“Tell you what,” he stands as he utters the words, and places his palms on the cafeteria table. “I’ll go get you some real food, and then you’ll be able to eat.”
With that, he’s gone, darting around athletes taller and shorter than himself on his way to the cereal stand.
She doesn’t know what’s happened, but her head is suddenly clear and aware. There’s no mixture of thoughts pooling and swirling in a dense fog, but a ray of light breaking through the clouds.
When did Joey Hagerty become so thoughtful and perceptive?
And cute?
Author: Um. Santa.
Pairing: Memmel/Hagerty
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own, know, or have them trapped in my closet. Or Captain Crunch. Although I happen to love the Captain.
Summary: Chellsie's having a rough morning.
Author's Notes: Ugh. Peer pressure :D From a series? Maybe? But it has no name or plot yet!
She is thinking of everything and nothing at the same time. No coherent thoughts, merely a pressing weight sitting on her shoulders, making her mind feel heavy. She’s conflicted. Nastia smiles lightly to herself, a soft twitch of her lips that only she seems to notice, and the anchor around her heart sinks again. She begins to picture herself atop the podium, unable to contain the beaming smile that’s gracing her features as the medal is hung around her neck. She thinks of all the attention the other girl is getting and wonders if she would handle it so well. Question after question (all of them asking the same thing) are being fired at her, but she’s poised. She’s so happy that it doesn’t matter how many times she has to explain what she felt when she realized she won. The fact is, she won.
But when those words flash across her mind, it hits her that she didn’t win. The All-Around victory is not hers, but rather belongs to one of her biggest rivals. How could she be truly happy? She is jealous and slightly angry. More at herself than anyone else, but when she sees Nastia smiling so contently, a twinge of hatred always seems to pass across her eyes. She feels like she’s supposed to be angry, that since her Olympic dreams did not turn out near how she had hoped, no one would blame her for a little shouting. She even sees herself doing it.
But then someone gently touches her arm, and the images are gone, replaced with the bustling, Beijing cafeteria. It’s Nastia whose fingers are on electric on her skin, silently offering comforting words to the obviously melancholy older girl. “We’re heading back up, you coming?” she asks with soft eyes and Chellsie immediately feels guilty for even imagining hating the girl. She can’t. Nastia worked just as hard as she did, and never once did she let their rivalry on the mats get in the way of their friendship.
But Chellsie sees the barely touched plate of food on the table in front of her, and realizes that she’s starving even if she can’t seem to make herself eat. She replies that she’s going to finish eating first, while trying to convince Nastia (and herself) that she’s okay, just with her tone of voice. Her friend doesn’t buy it -neither does she- but only hesitates for a moment before turning to catch up with the rest of their pack. They have a silent understanding between themselves; while Alicia and Sam are convinced that the best way to heal a broken soul is by being touchy-feely and expressive, she and Nastia prefer to operate on a more solitary scale.
Her friend will give her space for a few days, but if the unnecessary emotions endure longer than that, words will be had.
She finds herself alone at the table, although the hundreds of other athletes in the cafeteria create a buzz that she can’t ignore. The seats beside her fill up rather quickly, but it’s the one that is directly in front of her that captures her attention. She allows her eyes to drift towards the occupant, and finds herself momentarily surprised that she actually knows this person. Knows him fairly well even. She doesn’t know where he came from, but can’t quite bring herself to ask him because he’s fidgeting nervously in his seat, right leg bouncing quickly with anxiety. He might have slid a few spots over, she thinks, but it doesn’t really matter. At the same time, she wonders why he’s nervous and if it might have something to do with her. Is he afraid that she’ll start crying? Surely she doesn’t look that distraught.
Her food remains untouched as she defers to watching him push the Captain Crunch around his bowl, the other hand rapping softly on the table. She hesitates for a moment, gnawing on her lip before putting on a bright façade, and greeting him. “Morning, Joey.” He looks up briefly, flashes a quick smile, and shoves a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. They’ve never talked much, both preferring to stick to their own little groups, so she wonders. About him, his relationship with the other guys, how long he’s been in gymnastics, she just wonders. It never occurs to her that for once, her mind isn’t focused on Nastia’s gold. It never occurs to her, because she’s focused on him even though she can’t quite figure out why.
Her concentration is so shot that she’s only brought back to reality when she drops her fork and the sharp clatter rings through her ears as it hits her plate. She’s slightly embarrassed that her heart skipped a beat, but the only one that seems to notice the noise is Joey. He doesn’t say anything at first, merely pausing in his actions, and peering at her curiously. The side of her lip quirks upward in a half smile, the color in her cheeks slowly reddening as she picks up the fork again.
“Hey.”
The words are soft as they leave his lips, but she’s well aware that he’s speaking to her. Her eyes lift upward quickly, curiously. She notices that he still looks anxious about something, although she can’t figure out what. “What you did out there….that was pretty awesome.” He throws her a soft smile and a slight nod, before continuing, “Silver’s a hell of a lot prettier than dinky old bronze. And you got it with a bum ankle. A fighter if I ever knew one.” Chellsie doesn’t know what to say, at first, mainly because she’s shocked that he can read her so well even though it’s unlikely they’ve ever held a real conversation. A “hey” here and there, talk about gymnastics of course, but nothing deep. Nothing revealing.
Her mouth dangles slightly open for a moment as a pressure builds behind her eyes, even though she can’t figure out why. She wants to cry. There’s no reason too, but her heart is telling her otherwise. A shaky thanks slips from her lips, but her gaze does not meet his. Instead, it’s stuck on the foreign food littering her untouched plate. But Joey manages to recognize the look again, and finds a way to save her even more embarrassment.
“I can’t believe you’re going against the Captain to eat that. No wonder you haven’t touched it,” he says with a falsely disgusted look at her meal followed by a slightly off-center smirk. Before she can understand what has transpired, she’s laughing earnestly, something that hasn’t happened too often in the past day and a half.
“Am I the only one that wants an actual Beijing experience? Everyone else and their Captain Crunch. I’m amazed.”
“I think I’ve got enough of the experience with the transportation system they’ve got here. I thought people were joking when they mentioned sardines, but you know what? They weren’t.” She can’t help but laugh again, because he’s so right. And yet at the same time, she still doesn’t think that’s enough. At least she wants to branch out of her comfort zone a little, unlike the rest of the gymnastics troupe. But mainly, she wonders when the day became lighter, when things meant less. When he sat down? Even though a weight seems to have lifted from her shoulders, she still can’t find the energy to pick up a fork and eat, something that he seems to catch.
“Tell you what,” he stands as he utters the words, and places his palms on the cafeteria table. “I’ll go get you some real food, and then you’ll be able to eat.”
With that, he’s gone, darting around athletes taller and shorter than himself on his way to the cereal stand.
She doesn’t know what’s happened, but her head is suddenly clear and aware. There’s no mixture of thoughts pooling and swirling in a dense fog, but a ray of light breaking through the clouds.
When did Joey Hagerty become so thoughtful and perceptive?
And cute?