But to her surprise, Mimi sees a different side of the coach now, as they work together helping shy first-graders perfect their cartwheels and handstands. And maybe Tova’s seeing a different side of her, as well. It feels good, doing this, almost as good as doing gymnastics herself. Mimi wonders suddenly if this was how Kayla felt when she tutored her classmates.

It’s funny to think that she and Kayla might have something in common.

There’s a little kid in the corner, red ponytail pulled too tight. She seems to be fine on her own, but something draws Mimi to her anyway. The kid is tense, focused, as she balances on her palms, legs stretched skyward.

“Nice,” Mimi says.

The girl startles, drops to the floor.

“Whoops! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay.” Sitting on the floor, right way up, the girl looks suddenly gangly and awkward. “Um, were you watching me?”

“I just came over. Wanna show me what you can do?”

Once the little girl warms up, she proves herself to be fabulous. She throws herself into the moves with a fierceness that startles Mimi, something she recognizes, because she’s done it herself too many times to count.

She’s about to give the girl some pointers and head off to the tall blonde girl on the next mat, when Tova motions her over.

“How did you do that?” Tova asks her afterwards, in an undertone. “Yaeli’s always so shy, hiding out in that corner… I was watching her showing you her stuff, she’s so good.”

Yaeli. So that’s her name.

Mimi shrugs. I can understand her, I guess. Understand how scary things can be.

“Hey, everyone, come up here a minute, I want Yaeli to demonstrate how she walks on her hands, and then lands in a back flip.”

Mimi’s eyes fly to the girl in the corner. She’s turned bright red, cheeks flaming to rival her hair, and some of the other girls are staring openly. One or two giggle.

“Hey, you can do it. You did it for me,” Mimi says quietly, patting Yaeli’s shoulder.

The girl fixes her eyes on Mimi, takes a deep breath, and then she plunges onto her hands, executing the move perfectly. Mimi wants to cry. The girls who had been giggling a minute ago are suddenly quiet, admiring.

“Hey, teach me how you did that,” one of them says.

“She’s totally gonna win the end of year prizes,” another girl says.

“I’ll help you all learn it,” Yaeli blurts, and then looks horrified at her own nerve.

But the others in the group are clamoring in agreement, crowding around her, and when the moment passes she’s patiently demonstrating her prowess once again.

“I’m so happy for her, this is a real breakthrough,” Tova murmurs from just behind her. “The mom signed her up because she was struggling socially… you know, low level bullying kind of thing. She took to gym well, but she’s so shy, she doesn’t speak to anyone… it looks like you managed to get through to her somehow.”

Poor kid. But if her confidence climbs, everything else might improve.

When the class finishes, the girls skip out, thanking her with huge, admiring eyes. Mimi wants to tell them she’s not a real coach, just a high school girl faking it, but then she realizes she isn’t, she’s done it, really and truly been a gymnastics coach for an hour.

What do you know? Mimi Weiss, not the class leader, not the star student — she’s got something to give, too.

She wants to bask in the good feelings, but she needs to hurry home. Kayla wants to do their study session today instead of tomorrow, something about rearranging her schedule for Pesach cleaning. She doesn’t want to keep Kayla waiting when she’s doing her a favor by tutoring her.

Tutoring. How has the concept just… grown on her?

Maybe time. Maybe the fact that it’s working, her grades have gone up and it feels good. Or maybe it’s this realization, that everyone has strengths, everyone has what to give and share, and if she can help one little girl shine in gymnastics, she can allow herself to accept the help she needs in other areas. It’s not what she’s all about, she’s not defined by her struggles in school. It’s just a small part of her.

And Kayla — she’s not defined by her academic or social skills either. She’s not just the know-it-all, the geeky genius, the tutor… those are just parts of her, too.

There’s so much else she’s starting to discover about her sister.

To be continued…

(Originally featured in Mishpacha Jr., Issue 929)