21. Eighteen years old
Eighteen years old
Sam
“Are you sure you’ve got everything you need?” Kath surveys my now bare room and the two bags at my feet. “That doesn’t seem like enough suitcases.”
“I think so.” I adjust the suitcase next to me. “It’s mainly clothes, a some photos, and a few bits and bobs. The school pretty much provides everything else.”
“Do you have your lucky socks?” She moves to double check the list for what feels like the hundredth time. “I’ve never got why you’re obsessed with these socks, considering that you can’t wear them into the pool. Surely a cap would make more sense?”
“First thing I packed,” I tell her. “And they’re part of the pre-race ritual, along with re-reading your ‘You got this, Champ’ text.”
We both pause and look around the room. The posters are still there, but they don’t look the same without the picture of my mum on the bedside table in front of them, or the books stacked on the desk.
“It’s so weird that you’re leaving.” Kath walks to the window, looking out at the garden.
I know exactly what she sees, and it makes my heart clench.
My dad has kept my mum’s flower bed going, and an explosion of dahlias of all different colours line the back wall, yellows, oranges and reds. Every time I see them I think of Mum.
“Yeah, it feels really weird,” I agree, surveying the back of her chestnut ponytail as she leans against the window frame.
She’s wearing one of my old county swimming shirts, and it’s swamping her.
I don’t know how to tell Kath how much I’m going to miss her.
Whenever I think of leaving it physically hurts.
“It’ll be an adventure.” She turns to me and smiles. “Promise to text me when you land.”
“I promise it’s the first thing I’ll do.” I pull her into a hug.
“That would be a bit desperate,” she teases.
“Nah.” I kiss the top of her head and look around my room again. “You and I don’t do desperate.”
She hugs me tightly, and I realise that this will be my last hug from Kath in months.
Last night we lay in the dark, her body pressed against mine, and she traced slow patterns onto my bare shoulder.
Then she kissed my cheek and told me that she’d added an unofficial article to the pirate’s code: “No being weird about this”.
I smiled and nodded, but then lay in there for hours unable to get to sleep.
“Are you going to miss me?” she asks, shaking me from my thoughts. “Or miss my boobs at least?”
“I’m definitely going to miss you—and your boobs.” I try to lighten the mood. “They’re pretty great. The freckle on top of the left one is my favourite of your freckles.”
She lets out a slightly watery giggle. “One of my best features. Right, let’s get this stuff downstairs. I think your dad wants to leave soon.”
We carry the bags down to the front door and then go back up to do a final sweep.
“I had a really fun summer.” Kath’s brown eyes lock onto mine.
“Well, I’ve had an amazing seven years of hanging out with you,” I say to her.
I pause on the landing. Should I tell her how I feel?
I’ve been dancing around it for a few weeks now.
Almost since she mentioned that deal to me.
Most mornings I wake up wanting to tell her that I wish we could have something more, that spending time with her is the best part of my day, that being together like this makes me so happy…
but by the afternoon I’ve talked myself around into thinking that it wouldn’t be fair on her, given that I’m moving away. I take a deep breath.
“Listen, Kath, I’ve been meaning to tell you—”
“Sam, let’s go!” I hear my dad’s voice cutting me off. “Radio says the traffic is awful.”
I sigh and shut my eyes. Maybe that interruption was the sign I needed.
The sign not to ruin things. What do I think I can even do with my declaration anyway?
It’s not going to change anything. I’m still going to be away for at least four years.
Still going to be training all the time, focussed on swimming and not her.
“Coming,” I shout down the stairs and turn back to Kath.
“Meaning to tell me what?” she asks, eyes wide.
“Samuel, come on! Let’s go now!” my dad shouts again.
“Nothing,” I tell her as we hurry down the stairs. “Nothing at all.”
I want to kiss her goodbye, but that feels like blurring the lines of our rules.
Instead I pull her into a final tight hug before getting into the car.
As we drive away, I watch her standing by the front door, holding onto Crunchie and squinting into the sun as she waves.
I roll down the window and wave back until the car turns the corner and we disappear from sight.
It hurts. It hurts with the sickening certainty that I’m driving away from the person I’ve been coming home to for half my life.
Leaning my head back in my seat and I watch London slowly blur into the countryside as we drive towards Gatwick. I don’t feel like I’m about to move continents. The last few weeks have felt like suspended reality, a bubble of only me and Kath.
My phone buzzes in my lap.
Kath: You got this, Champ
See you in December, I reply.
“You alright?” my dad asks as I let out a shaky breath.
“Yeah. Bit nervous about living in another country. I’m not sure what I’ll do without all of you guys.”
“You’ll have an amazing time,” he says, eyes still on the road. “I’m really proud of you. And I know your mum would be too.”
“Really?” I’m suddenly desperate to know what he thinks.
My heart aches. I always imagined that my mum would be in this car with us driving me to university, chattering away in the back.
My dad and I are naturally quiet people.
Whenever we do long drives, I can physically feel the gap she’s left in our lives.
“She would be.” He grips the wheel tightly. “She’d be sitting in the car continually telling you how proud she was. And then she would immediately start worrying about whether you’d packed enough socks.”
I nod. I don’t trust my voice to reply right now.
“Thanks, Dad,” I get out eventually. “I know none of this would be possible without your support.”
“Well, I like doing it,” he tells me.
We sit in silence for the rest of the journey and I watch the other cars on the motorway, wondering whether anyone else feels as lost as I do right now.
On the flight a few hours later I permit myself a moment of self-pity, a moment to acknowledge the fact that I’m scared to be leaving my friends, especially my best friend, behind.
I rub my chest. You did the right thing, I tell myself again.
It was the right thing not to tell her how you really feel.
She deserves to go on dates. To not be pausing her life because of me.
I want her to feel free. She’s already sacrificed so much for me.
The problem is that our lives are so entwined that I don’t even know how to start living without her.
***
When I finally make it to my new dorm room in Florida twenty hours later, I’m sweaty and absolutely shattered. Thankfully, the campus is deserted. Just empty paved streets, red brick buildings and palm trees. Kath would love it.
I’m glad that only the athletes are here at the moment for preseason training because I don’t have it in me to socialise.
I’m not as shy as I used to be, but I’m still not exactly talkative with new people.
I wipe sweat off my forehead again. Ugh.
The English weather has not prepared me for this combination of heat and humidity.
I’m sharing a room with one of the other swimmers, and I can see that his bed is already neatly made up, a bunch of photos on his bedside table.
The room is nice, but a bit cramped. I’ve gotten used to having my own space, and I’m not sure if I’m mentally prepared for a roommate.
Or for the small talk that will accompany it.
I sigh, sitting down and looking at the pile of fitted sheets and pillowcases.
Despite wanting to sleep I know I need to unpack.
I can almost hear Kath’s voice in my head telling me to do it now rather than leaving it for later.
Climbing back onto my feet, I unzip one of the cases, pulling out T-shirts, shorts and jumpers.
After everything’s away I straighten the photos on my bedside table, the one of Kath and I at the Olympics, another of my family on holiday back when my mum was still alive.
Just as I’m pulling out my phone to text Kath I hear the sound of the door unlocking, and a huge guy walks in.
I’m not exactly small. I’m six foot three and have a decent amount of muscle, but this guy is taller than me and his shoulders are giant.
He’s wearing a T-shirt and a pair of grey shorts, and his light brown hair peeks out from underneath a Florida Gators baseball cap.
“Oh, hi.” He nods at me. “Are you my new roommate?”
“Nope, just nosing around,” I joke, then immediately curse myself for how awkward I sound. “Umm, I’m Sam. I just arrived this afternoon.”
“Ah, cool, you’re British. Love the accent. I remember them saying you were due to arrive today.” He grins at me and twists his cap backwards. “I’m Austin; nice to meet you.”
“You too,” I tell him, trying to work out what else to say. I haven’t had to make any new friends without the buffer of Kath for a very long time, and I seem to have forgotten how to.
“Anything I need to know?” Austin asks. “Are you a snorer or a sleepwalker?”
“I don’t think so.” I laugh, but it sounds flat even to me. “Sorry, mate, I’m a bit out of it. It’s only a five-hour time difference, but I’ve been travelling for ages. Had to get a layover so I could get a cheap flight.”
He winces. “Do you want me to show you to the dining hall and then you can get an early night? I’ve been here a week, so I know my way around a bit.”
“That sounds amazing. Let me just send this message to my friend and then I’m good to go. Might just change my T-shirt too. Sorry, this heat is killing me.”
“Sure, take your time. I’m chill.” He sits down on his bed and starts messing around on his phone while I quickly send a photo of the room to Kath before grabbing a fresh shirt from the drawer.
When I’ve put it on, Austin throws my keys to me and I follow him out the room.
Within minutes I’m already sweating again, but he looks completely unphased by the heat.
“So, what do you swim?” I ask as we walk out the building. Swimming I can talk about. It doesn’t even feel like small talk.
“Mainly breaststroke.”
“Explains the shoulders,” I say and he laughs.
“Yeah, it does. But I do the individual medley too.”
“Ah cool, me too. Though I’m more of a freestyle and fly guy for my others.”
As we continue walking, he points out a few of the college landmarks that he’s managed to get his head around in the week he’s been here. The student centre, some of the lecture halls, the directions to the pool and the gym. I’m not sure how much my brain is going to remember tomorrow.
“Are the rest of the team already here?” I ask.
“Most of them. I think there’s another two left to arrive, but that’s it. It’s a nice group. Mainly from the US, but there is a Canadian guy and someone from Australia too.”
“Cool. I guess making friends on the team would be nice.”
My phone buzzes again.
Kath: Nice digs. Shame you guys have to share rooms in America though! Hope the roommate is nice. Send me some photos of the campus after you have a nap.
I smile and start texting back, sending a flurry of teasing messages back and forth as we cross another lawn.
“Who are you messaging?” Austin asks.
“Oh just my friend Kath from school.” I snap another picture of the campus.
“Girlfriend?”
“Nah, nothing like that.” I pause, feeling suddenly awkward.
I’m too tired to really keep my guard up, and I know if I started talking about her I would end up saying too much. So I just smile at Austin and ask him about his hobbies, pushing thoughts of Kath out of my head.