It didn’t take long for me to realize that it was my skiing which was interfering with my tennis. According to my mom, I had to choose one sport and concentrate on that. According to Coach Owen, I could play both. I was at a cross road though and I really was nowhere close to deciding. I couldn’t help but think that if I didn’t decide soon everything I have ever worked for would be a waste and I wouldn’t get better at either sport. Of course, it was still summer, I was at the Field House and I was having an amazing time and was getting better…but still, something wasn’t right. I knew that I could be so much better at tennis if I hadn’t been skiing all winter long and as the thirteen year old I now was I knew that I had to pick one sport and concentrate on that. I didn’t want to choose though. Every time I pictured my life without skiing or tennis I saw a big black blob of nothingness. Elle and John had accompanied me to the Field House and although I had beaten John almost every time I played, he was still improving faster than me. Elle was a different story. Every time I played her and I won it was such a great victory I would be almost positive the girl playing wasn’t me. However, most of the time I lost. It would usually be close, the most recent score was 7-6 (Elle), 2-6 (me), 11-9 (Elle), but it still didn’t change the fact that I lost. At the moment I was relaxing in the hot tub at the Field House, trying to get my thoughts straightened out before I played another match. Technically, I wasn’t supposed to be in the pool area without a life guard, but I didn’t care.
“Tegan! I didn’t know the pool was open…I don’t see the life guard, could you point her out for me?” a voice said behind me. I knew that voice. I rolled my eyes and looked up to my best friend from the field house standing there with a smirk drawn across his face.
“If you must know Zander, I just needed to relax a little before I played you this afternoon. Anyway, what are you doing here?” I asked. Zander laughed.
“Coach Adrian sent me to look for you. I could tell him that you were swimming, but I don’t think that would go very well, what do think?” he replied slyly. I narrowed my eyes.
“You wouldn’t,” I hissed. He smiled.

“Let’s make a deal, T. You let me win and I won’t tell Adrian.”

“You have such low confidence in your game that you have to make a deal with me if you want to win? You’re lying. You would never tell Adrian. I know you to well Zan.”
Zander crossed his arms and let out a huff.

“Fine. But, seriously what’s bothering you?”
I sighed. I didn’t really know if I should tell him the real reason I was so upset. He would figure it out though, as we both knew. He could read me like a book and I could do the same with him.

“Well…my mom said I had to decide between skiing and tennis. I really don’t know what to do. Did you ever feel like your life just wouldn’t be complete without something? Like you’re just not yourself if it isn’t there?”
Zander took a seat next to me. He nodded his head and looked at me sympathetically.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. I feel the same way about tennis and baseball, although I doubt I’m as obsessed as you,” he said. He smiled and nudged my side. I let out a small laugh.

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s physically possible. Anyway, every time I decided to quit either skiing or tennis it’s like my mind takes me to an amazing moment from one of the sports and I end up thinking, ‘what would you do if you could never have another moment like that?”

“I don’t know Teg. I mean, it’s your life. Not your mom’s, not mine-not anyone else’s. I think you should just continue with what you’re doing now and if there comes a time where you have to make that decision decide then. But for now don’t dwell on the future.”
I sighed. It felt nice to finally tell someone how I felt. I knew Zander understood a little, and I guess I would follow his advice, but the monster that was the future kept following me and I knew I wouldn’t be able to hide for long.
Summer decided that it had been here long enough and eighth grade took its place with a bang. My teachers were nice enough and I guess I matured slightly over the summer because I hardly had any missing homework. So, besides the occasional stereotypic mean girl, my school life was going pretty well. Sports were a whole different story. My decision about whether I should choose skiing or tennis was still about as clear as mud and I knew that if I was going to go pro in one of those I would have to decide soon. December was just around the corner which meant that the ski season was coming soon. I had already bought my skis, boots, and poles while my mom seemed to have made her transition from being tennis obsessed skiing obsessed.

“Hey Tegan!” my mom said brightly as she walked into my room.

“Yeesss,” I replied, my eyes still locked onto my computer screen. She sat on my bed and closed my laptop. I looked at her with hard eyes.

“Did you know,” I hissed, “That when you close my laptop I automatically turn’s off?”
My mom seemed to sink into my comforter.

“Sorry,” she weekly replied. I rolled my eyes.

“Whatever. I was just looking up ski races. I can get that back up. What do you want?”
She smiled again as I prepared myself for a monologue about her tennis match with Jill.

“So, I was talking to your dad and I convinced him into doing something for you…I think you might like it,” she said smiling. I looked up at her and raised my eyebrows. That was not what I was expecting. But hey, I wasn’t going to complain.

“Really? What is it? Please don’t say Math Camp!” I pleaded. She laughed. If she didn’t tell me soon I was seriously going to explode with anticipation. I tried to think of everything I ever wanted (and trust me that was a lot), but there wasn’t something that really stuck out, something that my mom wanted me to have and my dad was crazy enough to give into. I sighed.

“Well, what is it?” I finally asked.

“Remember how you were saying that you wanted to go to a real training camp for tennis or skiing?” she said. I nodded and suddenly got excited. If my mom was saying what I thought she was saying then I had a really good feeling about this.

“Wait-did you get dad to sign me up for a skiing or tennis camp?”
My mom smiled and nodded.

“You’re going to Mount. Hood Summer Ski Camp! Only if you want to of course.”
I smiled. I felt like I was floating on a cloud. This was a dream. This couldn’t be happening. How was it that my mom somehow convinced my dad to let me go to ski camp? I had been asking for something like this to happen for ages. Why they decided to suddenly do it now I didn’t know, but I didn’t care. This was amazing.

“Is that even a question? Of course I want to go!”
My mom hugged me tightly.

“Ok, I’ll go tell your dad. You know that we’re all going up there too though, right?”
I laughed. Of course I knew that. For all I knew my mom was going to dress up as one of the kids and go to ski camp herself. I mistakenly voiced that thought and my mom got a weird look on her face, like she was actually thinking about doing that. I shook my head. If that’s what she was thinking, why was I surprised? She’s my mom, the one and only Ann Savage.
By the time February Break had come I had done more tennis tournaments than ever before. I knew that if I was going to do the Ski Camp I would have to do more tennis than usual (and I usually played every day so that’s saying a lot) if I wanted to keep up. I also knew something else though. Going to the Ski Camp was like choosing skiing. I wasn’t ready to admit that though, not to myself, not to anybody. Zander knew though. That day at tennis he pulled me over by the vending machine and asked me if that was what I wanted, if choosing skiing over tennis (over him), is that what I wanted. When I told him that going to Ski Camp didn’t mean I was quitting tennis he shook his head I walked away. I knew deep down inside he was right. Going to Ski Camp did mean I was quitting tennis.
My science homework lay beside me untouched. I was too tired to think. I had just gotten home from a tournament and I was in the finals tomorrow. I had won five tournaments and gotten to the finals at least eight times since the night I had decided to go to Ski Camp and truthfully, I couldn’t have been happier. That really made me question my decision about Ski Camp, but I knew if I decided not to go I would regret it. I scribbled my name at the top of my homework and then, just to entertain myself, I wrote the words Tegan wuz here in the top right corner. I sighed and started reading the paragraph at the top of the paper, realizing if I didn’t start now I never would.

A chromosome is a structure of DNA and protein found in cells. It is a piece of curved DNA carrying genes, regulatory elements and other nucleotide sequences. Chromosomes also hold DNA-bound proteins, which have to enclose the DNA and control its functions.
I groaned and let my face fall into the pillow. It was vacation for crying out loud! What was the point of giving us homework? I pushed my worksheet aside and went on my e-mail account. My dad said he would e-mail me the information on the Ski Camp. I wanted to know my schedule and who was in my bunk really badly. I did have on new message, but it wasn’t from my dad. It was from the USTA aka The United States Tennis Association. I clicked on it and read the e-mail. It said:
Dear Tegan Savage,
CONGRATULATIONS!
You have been selected to compete in the USTA Champion Tournament. The tournament will take place on May 18th to May 21st at Syracuse University. If you win three out of five matches you move on to the Sectionals Tournament. More detail on that will be given at Syracuse. If you have any questions or concerns please feel free to email our tournament director, Diego Rivera. To register please visit our website at http://www.usta.com/Youth Tennis/Junior Tournaments/. We hope to see you there!
After reading the e-mail, I didn’t know what to feel. Overjoyed that I had made it to a tournament this big? Scared about how I would do if I went? Flabbergasted that they actually wanted me there? Out of everything though, I mostly felt lost. This is what my mom was talking about when she said I had to choose one sport and stick to that. I knew if I continued doing skiing and tennis more situations would come up like this where I had to choose between the two sports. I couldn’t do both the tournament and the Ski Camp. How could I? I would have to train harder for the tournament and Ski Camp started June 5th. It was impossible to do both; especially if I made the next round of the tournament. It also kind of bugged me that Zander had been right when he said that there would come a time when I had to choose between the two sports. I knew this was that time. But, Zander had said I would know what to do when that time comes. He was wrong there. I had no idea what to do. So, I did what I always do when I’m clueless.

“MOM!”

I heard pounding coming up the steps and a second later my mom burst into the room.

“What is it?” she asked. I shrugged helplessly and showed her the computer screen. Her face expression changed from confused to jubilant to realization.

“Well, good job on making the tournament!” she said feebly. I groaned and fell back on my bed.

“That’s not helping!” I snapped, “If I didn’t make the tournament I wouldn’t be I in this situation. How can I decide between skiing and tennis?” My mom shrugged and sighed.

“I don’t know, that’s up to you. I think if you really think about it, the answer will come easily to you.”

“As if I hadn’t tried that,” I grumbled. My mom smiled sadly at me.

“Why don’t just think about it later? Finish your homework and then go to sleep. You can think about the answer in the morning.”
I shook my head. I couldn’t go to sleep now.

“Ok,” my mom said, “What I think you should do is really try to think about what sport you couldn’t live without, no matter what. Maybe that will help.”

“Maybe,” I said. My mom always gave me great advice. She was my go-to person, but for this situation I felt like there was no right or wrong answer.

“When the time comes you’ll know what to do,” she said. I smiled.

“That’s what Zander said.”
My mom laughed.

“I guess he’s smart then.”
I shrugged.


“I’ve seen smarter.”

“Just think about what Zander and I said. You’ll know what to do.”
My mom left me with a million questions running through my head. Her inspirational speech worked a little, but I was still slightly confused. I don’t think anyone could help me. I was doomed.

My decision came to me two months after I got the e-mail. I was looking up something on Google when an ad came up. The ad said ‘follow your dreams’ across the front, then a picture of Kim Clijsters winning the US Open showed up. The picture disappeared and the words ‘Join the USTA and go pro’ showed up. I took that as a sign. If Google wanted me to become a professional tennis player it must be meant to be. Computers were supposed to be smart, right? I ran downstairs into the den to see my mom, dad, and my siblings talking. The TV was on, showing a picture of a moose and a little bird dancing, it was probably one of Jake’s shows.
“I know what I want to do,” I said. Everyone looked up at me.
“That’s great,” my dad said, “can you elaborate on that?” I smiled and nodded. I really felt comfortable with my decision.
“I’m going to quit skiing and go pro in tennis.”
My family looked around at each other, not saying a word. I didn’t know if this was a good thing or a bad thing.

“We’ll support you in anything you want to do. I’m happy you made a decision. Just out of curiosity, how did you decide exactly?” My mom said. I smiled.

“Do you really want to know?”

It started out a normal day, well as normal as my life could get. My family woke up, packed ourselves into the car and we were on our way to my tournament in Syracuse. My ride to Syracuse was just a repeat of what I always do on tournament days. My mom gave me tips about what to do (I’ve heard everything before), I freaked out about the tournament, I calmed myself down, convinced myself I would win, and then we blasted music in the car until we all turned deaf. Yup. Normal. When we pulled into the parking lot of Syracuse there was an instant buzz of excitement spreading throughout the car. My dad had gone here, my mom’s tennis team played a tournament here and now I get to play a tournament here. It was magical. We walked over to the courts and I tried to get a feel of what it would be like to play here in a couple of hours. They wouldn’t tell me who I was playing until the tournament officially started so I didn’t know what to expect. I was nervous though. It was my first champion’s tournament and I was nervous. To top it off, I couldn’t get skiing off my mind. How was I supposed to play in a tennis match if I kept thinking about skiing?
My first match was against a girl named Audrey Haring. Audrey used to go to my tennis club but left because she said she wasn’t getting enough out of the program. Audrey was a pretty hard opponent. We had an exhausting match that went into a tie break. But in the end I won with a score of 6-7(8-6); 6-3; 13-11. The next match I played a girl named Samantha Lugtu. She was ranked ten in the state, but she actually wasn’t that good. The reason she was hard to play was because she kept getting the ball back no matter where you hit it. It was like playing a brick wall. I lost in the end with a score of 6-3; 6-2. After that, I played Audrey’s sister Caroline. Caroline was a year younger than Audrey (who was my age) but a lot taller. The key to playing a tall person is to hit it right to them, because chances are they will have harder time getting away from the ball, whereas shorter people will be a little faster. I kept hitting the ball right to Caroline’s back hand every time and beat her with a score of 6-2; 6-1.
The fourth person I played was Adina Radu. She played like Samantha, acting like a brick wall. She also had the most serious tennis father I have ever seen. According to my mom, whenever I won a point, he would go outside to smoke. I lost that match 6-1; 6-2. So far, I had won two and lost two. If I won this next match I would move on to the next round, but, if I lost I would have to go home. That was NOT my plan.
I was playing a girl named Kate Foos. She was an ok player. Her strokes were a little shaky and she tended to miss hit the ball into the net a lot, but besides that she was good. I won the first set easily 6-2. I was pretty confident about the next set but I knew only from experience not to get to high on success. I had to stay cool. It was only after I won the second set 6-1 that I realized how far I had gotten from the first tournament I ever played. Back then, when I was eleven years old, I had been on my hands and knees begging just to get to the Field House. I had done that. Back then, I couldn’t even get past the first round in a tournament. I had won tournaments. Back then, well, back then I had been one of the worst players in the club. Ok, maybe not the worst, but defiantly not one of the best. Now I was. I smiled broadly and shook my opponent’s hand.

“Great job,” I said, “Good game.” She smiled at me sadly.

“You were by far the best player I have ever played,” she said. That took me by surprise. I smiled at her and couldn’t help the bubble of pride that was welling up inside of me.

“Really? Thank you!” I said. She nodded and we walked off the court. I was instantly bombed my millions of hugs and congratulations from my family, friends, and coaches. I had never been happier. But, even so, I couldn’t help remember the feeling I got after winning a ski race. I remembered the cold feeling you had from the below freezing temperatures, but at the same time you’re not cold because you’re warmed by the fact that you won. I remembered the feeling of standing on that podium in my racing suit and feeling like I could accomplish anything I wanted. I remember feeling numb with glee, like no matter what happened, nothing could bring me down. I would never feel that again, at least not for skiing, maybe for tennis, but never for skiing.
The second round of the tournament took place at the US Open. Yes, the US Open. I actually got to play on the US Open courts. It was a dream come true. But, of course, this is my life we’re talking about here. Nothing is that perfect. I played great in the first round. I played a girl named Olga Drahanchuk. I beat her 6-3; 6-4. The points were pretty tough, but I wasn’t thinking about that. I had just played on a US Open court. I had just won on a US Open court. It was the most amazing feeling in the world. I felt like I really belonged there. My second match went pretty much the same way. I played a girl named Tania Malik. It was hard, we went it to a tie break actually, but in the end I won 7-6(7-5); 2-6; 11-9. My third match wasn’t so great. I was playing a girl named Anna Zakusylo. When I first saw her, her dad was making her jump rope in front of the court. He was yelling at her and telling her to turn her shoulder more when she went to hit the ball. My mom looked at me with a shocked expression, which turned into a smirk.

“You think you should ask her to barrow her jump rope?” she said, with all the seriousness in the world. I laughed.

“Yeah. Maybe I should ask her dad to repeat what he was telling her to do as well.”
My mom laughed. Before she could say another word though, the referee called us out to the court. The match started out ok. I was up 2-0 in the first set and I was doing pretty well. That was until Anna made a bad call. I served had served an ace that Anna called out. I looked at my mom with a shocked expression. My mom made a signal that looked like she was telling me questions the call. I did.

“Are you sure?” I asked slowly. Anna nodded her head.

“Positive,” she said firmly. I shrugged, but eyed her carefully, trying to find even the smallest trace of guilt on her features. I served again and Anna hit the ball to my backhand. I hit it back and the ball landed perfectly on the line…she didn’t think so.

“OUT!” she called. I wouldn’t take that.

“WHAT!” I said, “Are you sure?” She nodded again put her racquet in the green cement behind the base line.

“Yeah, it landed right here,” she said, signaling to where her racquet was. I looked at my mom and I saw that she and Anna’s dad were talking to the referee. My mom saw me looking at her and waved me over to her.

“Umm, I’m going to the bathroom,” I said hurriedly. Before she could respond I ran up to my mom, Anna’s dad, and the referee.

“Tell the referee what’s going on Tegan,” my mom said. Anna’s dad nodded in agreement, which confused me slightly.

“Ok…” I said. I told the referee what was going on and he sighed with exasperation.

“Ok,” he said, “I’m coming.” I nodded and walked out to the court. I’m pretty sure the referee misunderstood me because as soon as we started playing he started saying that Anna was calling all of my balls that were out, in. That made next to no sense to me. I lost the first set 6-4 because the referee distracted me and Anna continually made bad calls, so bad that even her own dad would yell at me to question the call and then send his daughter the death glare. The first game of the second set is when my mom, Anna’s dad, and I snapped. Anna called every single call wrong and when I questioned the call the referee would say something along the lines of,

“Well the ball you hit before was out and she called it in.”
I really don’t like that referee. Anyway, my mom started waving me off the court so I told the referee I was going to the bathroom and left.

“We’re leaving,” my mom said as soon as I walked up to her, “I would rather you not play at all than lose to someone who cheated.” I nodded. Then Anna’s dad walked up to us.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, “My daughter had a bit of a cheating problem as you could probably tell.” Just then the referee and Anna came running off of the court.

“What is going on here?” the referee asked. My mom shook her head and glared at the referee.

“We’re leaving. Anna was cheating the whole time and all you did was yell at my daughter!”
Then she walked away with me scurrying after her in shock.

“That was really weird,” I said, once I had caught up to my mom.

“I know right? Can you believe it? Even that girl’s dad was on your side! Wow,” she said. I nodded in agreement. That was defiantly the weirdest match I have ever played. Then I realized something and laughed.

“What is it?” my mom asked.

“I finally get to play on US Open courts and my opponent cheats on me so badly that I have to default. Only that would happen to me.”

“What’s wrong with us?” my mom asked, while laughing.

“Trust me,” I said, “If I knew I would tell you.”

By the time I was a sophomore in high school I had gotten a wild card to the Australian Open. I was pretty sure I was the happiest person alive. No, happy didn’t even do these feelings justice. Jubilant? Thrilled? Ecstatic? Overjoyed? I didn’t even know. The only bad thing was that haven’t even touched a pair of skis since the eighth grade. I knew that if I even saw them that I would immediately regret my decision. No, I wouldn’t regret it, but it would get me thinking about ‘what ifs’ and ‘what ifs’ might lead to regret and at the moment that’s the last thing I need. I was at Tenafly Racquet club, practicing serves, when my mom told me something that would probably change my life. As I was serving, I was thinking about how far I have come. How hard the road has been. All of the decisions I have had to make. Everything was just so messed up for while, and now it seemed like everything was finally falling into place. Of course, my mom had to go and change all of that.

“Hey, Tegan,” she said walking up to me. I spun around to look at her.

“What’s up? I asked. She shrugged.

“Well, I wanted to tell you something and I’m really not sure how you’ll react to it.”
I looked at her closely, trying to figure out what she was trying to pull on me.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Well, its November right now and the Australian Open is in two months. You’ve been training really hard and I think you deserve a break from everything,” she said. I could tell that wasn’t it though. There was something she was hiding. After living with her for almost sixteen years I kind of had a sixth scent for this type of thing.

“And…” I said, egging her on. She sighed dramatically.

“We’regoingonaskitriptoHunterMountain,” she said rather quickly.

“What? Mom, can you repeat that? Slowly this time,” I said confused. She nodded. She looked like she going to tell the five year old me that my fish just died. What could she be hiding?

“We’re going on a ski trip to Hunter Mountain and you have to ski at least once this time. You can’t just sit in the hotel and workout or write your book. You can’t search for the local tennis court. I want to ski. It will be good for you.”
No.
NO.

NO!
NO!
I absolutely refuse to ski. Every year we went on a ski trip to Hunter Mountain and every year was the same. My Parents, Colby, Lola, and Jake all went skiing while I stayed at the hotel. I refuse to ski. It will bring back to many amazing memories that I gave up on.

“Mom, I can’t ski you know that. It will make me remember everything I gave up. I can’t do. I won’t ski. I won’t!”

“But you love skiing. Tegan, you loved it just as much as tennis. Just try it again? For me?”
I shook my head and sighed.

“I’m sorry mom but no. Nothing will get me on that hill.”
I can’t believe she got me on the hill. After all of my protesting and complaints, my mom somehow managed to get me on the hill. I’m not sure how she did it and I don’t want to know. But, all I know is I’m standing at the top of a ski hill and refusing to go down. My family ditched me, its freezing, and I’m truthfully heartbroken. Just going up the chair lift brought back all of the amazing memories I have from skiing. I remembered dropping snow on people from my skis as they skied underneath me, I remember rating the skiers on their skill from one to ten with my friends from the ski team, I remember getting stuck at the top of the lift late at night and having to go down the chairlift backwards. I remembered why I loved skiing so much. And now I was back and I didn’t want to leave. Not now, not ever. I sighed and looked down at the hill, feeling my breath hitch in my throat. The memories from skiing these hills hit me like a ton of bricks and they became like a slide show right before my eyes. Racing with the ski team, racing against my mom, doing the moguls…
It was all too much. I was totally skipping the ‘what ifs’ and I was already regretting my decision of quitting. I was doomed.

“Ummmm, excuse me? Ms? Are you going to ski down the hill or just stare at it?”
I looked up to see an extremely good-looking ski patrol staring at me. I immediately felt my face heat up and realized I probably looked like a complete idiot by just staring at the hill.

“Yes,” I snapped, “I’m going to ski down.” The ski patrol shrugged and put his hands up in surrender.

“Sorry,” he said, “You just looked a little freaked out, if you are its nothing to be embarrassed about. I mean, this is a double black diamond, there pretty hard to do.”
I smirked. I could do a double black diamond in my sleep. Well, at least when I was in eighth grade I could, I wasn’t so sure how I would do now, but I wasn’t scared. Defiantly not.

“I’m not scared,” I told the ski patrol. He looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

“Really? Because this is Racers Edge, the hardest slope on the mountain, and I’m not too sure you could handle it.”
Racers Edge. The word rang in my head like a loud bell. I looked at the sign that said the name of the hill and I realized this was Racers Edge, my favorite hill from the time I was just six years old. No one doubts my ability on Racers Edge.

“What makes you think I can’t handle it?” I questioned him. He shrugged.

“Well, you have rental skis and usually people with rental skis can’t really, er, well….ski.”
I looked down at my skis, partially expecting to see my red, white and black racing skis. I was disappointed however to find the blue and green rental skis my mom picked up for me in the ski store. I sighed. I wasn’t about to tell this random ski patrol the reason why I don’t own skis, because then we would get into why I don’t ski anymore which would lead to why I chose tennis and I don’t have an answer for that question and I’m defiantly not ready to discuss it with a complete stranger.

“My skis are being waxed,” I lied. I decided if I was going to say they were being waxed I might as well say I have a race tomorrow. I told him that and he let out a low whistle.

“So, you’re a racer? Why didn’t you just say that?”
I shrugged.

“Your fun to negotiate with,” I said. He laughed.

“Ok, ok. Where do you race?” he asked me.

“Tuxedo Ridge,” I said out of habit, “it used to be Sterling Forest.” I felt my heart quench as I said those words, the words I had said so many times before when people asked me where I raced…where I used to race. The ski patrol nodded.

“My sister races,” he said, “I’m more a moguls type of guy.”

“I’m not too bad at the moguls. Bet I could beat you down. “

“You’re on.”
I then continued to ski for the first time in almost three years.
As I zipped through the moguls I felt so alive. I had forgotten the exhilaration you can get from racing and I didn’t want it to end. It was just so amazing. The wind was whipping my hair back and the cold air was hitting my face. I felt like I had never stopped skiing. I actually felt like I was doing better than I had ever done before. It was like I was on auto-pilot. My brain was applying everything about skiing I had ever heard to this little moment. It was pure bliss. I got to end of the hill and hockey-stopped. Snow went everywhere and landed on everyone in its path. I laughed and looked up at the hill.

“Why did you ever stop?” I asked myself. The ski patrol came down to the bottom of the hill and looked at me with his mouth open.

“Who are you?” he asked after a few seconds of silence.

“Tegan Savage, who are you?”

“Danny Jackson. I got to say Tegan Savage; you’re a pretty awesome skier.”
I smiled. I guess I was. It felt like no matter how long my break from skiing was, skiing never really left me.

“She’s not just a ‘pretty awesome skier’! She could be on the Olympic team!” a voice said behind us. We spun around to a burly man with a beard to rivals Santa Claus standing there eyeing me closely.

“Thank you,” I said, “but I’m pretty sure I’m not that good.” The man raised his eyebrows.

“Really? Well, I think I would know. I’m Mike Flaunder. I’m a scout for the Olympic Ski team. I want you on it.” he said. My jaw dropped. Did he say what I thought he said? This was not happening.

“Are you serious?” I asked, still trying to get over the initial shock. Mike nodded and handed me a card from inside his pocket. It said Mike Flaunder, Olympic Ski Team Scout. Then it showed his phone number and other important information.

“Can I see you race the Nastar Course? I need to see how you race. Only if you want to join the team of course,” he said after I handed him back the card. I nodded numbly not knowing what else to say. I followed Mike to the chair lift, with Danny at our heels, not wanting to miss anything.
I hadn’t been on the Nastar course in at least four years but it felt like I had just done it last week. The familiar call of ‘Racer Ready. Three Two One go!’ sounded through my ears as I pushed through the starting gate. Racing again felt amazing. I got close enough o every gate to touch it and knew where to turn, when to turn and the exact way to turn. The wind was blowing through my ears while the cold air sliced my face. I got into my tuck as I neared the end of the course and then I slid into a hockey stop. Danny and Mike were looking at the timing clock, trying to see my time. I was doing the same thing. I remembered this feeling of excitement as I waited for time. Sometimes I did better than I excepted to do, sometimes I did worse. I didn’t know what to expect today.

“Wow,” a voice said over the speaker, “Time for Tegan Savage, 14.08, 14.08. What did you eat for breakfast Tegan? Is that time physically possible?”
Everyone in hearing range looked over at me in shock. I myself couldn’t really believe what I was hearing. I looked at the timing clock and sure enough the numbers 14.08 were flashing on the screen. Wow was right. Mike looked at me in what only can be described as utter disbelief.

“Yeah,” he said, “I want you on my team.”
Mike, my mom, my dad and I had a meeting that night in the hotel restaurant. We explained to Mike everything from the Ski Camp when I was thirteen to the Australian Open. Mike was shocked that I hadn’t skied in three years and said I was a prodigy. He told me to take my time and deicide what I wanted to do. He also said the American Ski Team would love to have me, but he doesn’t want to put any pressure on me or force me to do anything. He then told whatever I decide to do will be the right choice. Yeah, where I have I heard that one before?
I lay in bed with a migraine headache. We had gotten home from Hunter Mountain two nights ago and I had to tell Mike if I wanted to be on the team or not in a month. I didn’t know what to do. How could I play in the Australian Open and ski in the Olympics? I felt like I was thirteen years old again and trying to decide whether to do ski camp or my tournament. My decision about just doing tennis totally back fired on me in the long run, and I ended up doing both again. Right back where I started. It’s like I’m a magnet to both sports. I can’t get away from them…

The airplane ride to the Australian Open was a tense one. No one really talked or moved or did anything really. It probably had something to do with the fact that this could very much be the first and last grand slam that I ever played in. I leaned back against my seat and sighed. Everything was going fine until I skied again. I mean, how was it even possible that I took a three year break from skiing and then got back on the slop and skied like I never left? All I knew was this. I was probably the only person in the world who had to choose between Professional Tennis and the Olympic Ski Team. How was someone supposed to make that decision?
I won the first round of the Australian Open easily with a score of 6-1, 6-0. I was taking all of my frustration out on tennis and I was doing amazing. In my second match I had a slightly tougher opponent, but in the end I won with a score of 7-6(7-4); 6-4. My third match was against a pretty well known player so I knew this was going to be a tough one. I was playing on one of the bigger courts and I was actually drawing a crowd. My heart was pounding a mile a minute. This is what I had been dreaming of since the time I was eleven years old. This is what I always wanted.
The first set was gruesome. Our points were extremely long and they took a lot out of me, but I was working on adrenaline and right now nothing could slow me down. She won the first set with a score of 7-6(7-5). I knew I had to get the second set. I wasn’t going to let my first Grand Slam experience end now. I somehow managed to win the second set with a score of 7-6(8-6) I had found out that her weakness was her backhand, so after I hit a few shots to her backhand she would just miss or hit a short ball that I could put away. The third set was the hardest. By this time it was extremely hot out and we were both tired, but neither of us planned on giving up. Tennis was a battle. You had to keep fighting. I won the third set 7-5. I couldn’t believe it and I don’t think anyone else could either. The girl I played was one of the top twenty in the world and I had just beaten her. It was amazing.
The fourth match I played was televised. I playing Melanie Oudin, who was number two in the world, so every tennis fan in the world was sitting down to watch this. I remembered when Melanie first went pro she had played in the US Open and had gotten to the semi finals. I knew she was a tough player with a lot more experience with these types of matches than me, but I could do this. I could take her. I won the first set with a score of 6-4. Melanie had let her guard down slightly, but either way I won. In the second set she came back and won 7-5. I completely prepared for a battle in the third set. I knew that this was one of the most important sets I would ever play. I could do this. I could do this. I won the third set 7-6(7-5). I shook hands with Melanie, got interviewed, and then signed some autographs. It wasn’t until I was eating dinner with my family when it really hit me that I was in the quarter finals of the Australian Open, because that’s when I fainted.
The quarter final was for some reason a pretty easy match. I was playing a girl like me, totally unknown and probably just here by luck. But, either way I beat her. I won the first set 6-4 and then the second set 7-5. So all in all I was having I pretty good Australian Open experience. However, it wasn’t until I was in the semi-finals that I got the real grand slam match experience. I was playing Christiania McHan, number one in the world. As I stood on the court, getting ready to return her serve, I suddenly remembered a dream I had had almost four years ago. In that dream I had won the French Open against Christina McHan. I really hoped this reality went the same way.
I lost this match in only two sets, but either way they were the hardest sets I had ever played in my life. I don’t know I how I managed to get through even the first one. Christina felt the same way I did because as I went up to the net to shake her hand she whispered,

“You are the hardest player I have ever played and I’ve been playing for a long time.”
That made my day. Usually they don’t interview the person who lost but the interviewer said that I was an exception because of how young I was and how far I got. I realized she was right. I was pretty young to be playing in a grand slam. I wasn’t even six-teen yet. How did I make it this far?

“So,” the interviewer said, “how do you feel.” I shrugged.

“Um, I’m not really sure. I mean yeah, I’m upset that I lost but I didn’t really expect to win so I’m not that disappointed, better to lose to the number one player in the semi’s than in the first round,” I said. The interviewer nodded.

“How do you think you made it this far?” she asked.

“I’m not really sure myself. I played my usual game and I guess it just worked,” I answered not really knowing what else to say. The interviewer nodded again. I realized she did that a lot.
“How did it feel playing Christiana McHan?”

“It was hard, but it was amazing…like a dream come true. I always wanted to get a chance to play her and now I did. It was the hardest match I ever played but I think I did ok.”
The interviewer nodded and smiled.

“Ok, well thank you, Tegan. I wish you the best of luck in your next match.”

“Thank you,” I said as I walked off the court. I had done well in the Australia, now I had the Olympics to handle.

I had to makeup three years of training in one week. My mom contacted my old ski coach, told him what was going on and he was at the Olympic training center faster than I thought physically thought possible. I don’t think I have ever worked harder. I had to keep up with people who have been training for this for years, while was pretty much a walk on Olympian. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t freaking out, but I had to keep reminding myself I was here for a reason.
In Alpine Ski races there are six different advents. The first on is Downhill, the second one is Slalom , the third one is Giant Slalom(GS), the fourth one is Super-G, the fifth is Combined advents, then the last in Super Combined(super combi). My first race was a downhill race. As my coach waxed my skis at the top of the mountain, I suddenly felt like I was twelve years old again at one of my races. I smiled at the thought. But then I remembered I was surrounded my Champion skiers from all around the world and I suddenly became nervous again.

“What I am going to do?” I asked my coach, Bill, helplessly. I patted my shoulder.

“You’re going to do great. You’re going to show all of these people who the best skier in the world and you’re going to win that medal. I have faith in you Tegan. You can do this,” he said.
I nodded my head but I wasn’t so sure. I knew had to stop thinking about doing bad though. If I did then I would do badly. I had to have confidence in myself, like in tennis. I could do this.
As I stood in the starting gate, I felt at home. I knew I belonged here. I had been in this position so many times before it felt like second nature. It was a feeling of being anxious to start the race but at the same time not want it to be over.

“Racer ready,” the guy at the gate said, “3, 2, 1 go!” I pushed off. In downhill you only skied one race and whoever had the fastest time wins. It was the longest course and the highest. I knew that I was doing great though. I just had that feeling. I was going around the gates like there was no tomorrow and feeling like I was on top of the world. It was amazing. When I got to the finish line I wasn’t really listening to what the announcer said. I was just concentrating on getting to my family. I did hear one thing though. I heard her say,

“Right now, Tegan Savage has the second fastest time.”
That felt incredible. I ended up getting third place but I didn’t care. No one is going to complain about getting an Olympic medal unless they’ve gotten third place for the past five years and have never gotten anything different. Just standing on the podium made all f my worries go away. The only other time I had felt this happy was when I was in the Australian Open.
The Slalom race was next and I was pretty confident about that. Slalom was one of best races so I had a good feeling about it. In Slalom you skied two races on two different courses and then they combined your times. Whoever had the best combined time won. My first race went pretty amazing. I got the fastest time so I really couldn’t complain. In my second run I came in second, so I ended up getting second overall. As I was standing on the podium I spotted my family, Zander and some of my other friends in the crowd. I held up my medal higher and I smiled. I felt like I could do anything in the world.
I was better at GS than I was at Slalom so I had nothing to worry about. I knew as soon as I pushed out of the starting gate that I was going to do well. I just had a feeling. Call it skier’s intuition. Like Slalom, in GS you ski two races on two different courses and then they combine your time. I came in second place my first run, but I came in first for my second run. I ended up getting second again overall.
In a Super-G race you only ski one run like on the downhill. I pushed out of the gate feeling pretty good. I remembered from when I was slipping the course that there was a hard turn a little further down the hill, but I wasn’t really worried about that…until I got to the turn. I lost control of slightly and rammed into a gate, I slide down the hill and hit a fence. Ski patrols were running at me with their equipment and there giant sled. That’s the last thing I remembered before I blacked out.
I woke up in the hospital with a splitting headache. My mind was totally fogged up and couldn’t really think. Every time I tried it hurt. I turned over on my side and groaned. What happened? I looked on my side table to see a big red button that I assumed got the nurse. I pushed it hoped that by pushing it I didn’t signal I was dying. The nurse came bustling in a few seconds later with a wet rag and some other medical things.

“You’re up!” she said brightly. I nodded my head.

“Yeah,” I grumbled, “What happened?” The nurse sighed.

“You took a nasty fall in the Olympics,” she said as if she treated that every day, which she probably has since at least three Olympians get hurt in every race or competition.
But the fact that she said I was an Olympian caught my attention. Me? No. I wracked my brain for some memory of that but I couldn’t find it. The nurse sighed impatiently like she sensed my struggles.

“You’ll remember soon enough,” she said as she walked out of the room. I groaned and leaned back against the pillows, looking up at the TV. That’s when I saw it. The Olympics was on the TV. The men’s Super-G race was going on. That’s when everything came back to me. Winning, the fall, everything. I instantly knew I had to get back to the Olympics. I knew, no matter what, I had to compete.
After some convincing, the hospital finally let me go. I got back just in time for the combined advents. I was on auto-pilot now. Nothing could get in my way. Combined events consisted of one downhill race and two slalom races. They combined your times and the fastest combined time won. I got first place for the downhill and one of the slalom races. I got second for the other slalom race. Overall I got first. I just won an Olympic gold medal. I don’t know what was better, holding the medal or hearing the announcement. It was marvelous. I felt like Lindsey Vonn as I stood on the podium nothing could be better.
My last race was the Super Combi. In the Super Combi there’s one slalom race and either a shorter than normal downhill race or a Super-G. This year they were doing the Super-G, I ran the Slalom race getting easily placing second. I was worried about the Super-G race though. I had fallen last time and I didn’t want to repeat that. I got down without a scratch though. My combined time got me third. I had won two silvers, two bronze, and one gold. I had a pretty good Olympics.
The Olympics had been in Russia so the plane ride back to the US was pretty long. My mom told me to get some rest. How could I though? I had five Olympic medals hanging down my neck and she expected me to sleep. No way. I had gotten interviewed about a million times after the final race and they all asked me the same thing. What are you going to choose? Skiing or tennis? I could never answer that question because I truthfully didn’t know myself. I had a feeling that I didn’t have to choose though. I chose tennis when I was thirteen and skiing just came right back to me. I made the semi finals of the Australian Open and less than two weeks later I won five Olympic medals. What was it with all of this choosing? Why couldn’t I do both? I realized I had made my decision long ago without even realizing it. I didn’t need to choose because without tennis and skiing I’m not me, I’m not whole. I knew I was going to be fine. With that thought I went to sleep, my dreams filled with Olympic wins and Grand Slam moments. I didn’t care if someone woke me up this time though, because I know I could turn my dreams into reality.