Chapter 29 Twenty years old
Twenty years old
Kath
Idon’t know if I’ll have fingernails left by the end of this week.
Watching Sam swim has always kicked my bad habit of chewing them into overdrive, and the Rio Olympics are only making it worse.
Sitting in the stands next to Sam’s dad and Josh, I have a strange mixture of intense adrenaline and extreme jet lag from only having landed five hours ago.
The atmosphere here is amazing. I love how the arena echoes, and how it has that smell of chlorine I’ve oddly come to find comforting. I think I may be one of the only people in the world who likes the smell of a community swimming pool, but it just reminds me of Sam.
“Your nerves are making me nervous,” Josh tells me, putting his hand on my leg, which I hadn’t even realised was hopping up and down. “Just enjoy the atmosphere and get ready to cheer.”
I take a breath. He’s right, and I’m so happy he’s here next to me.
Sam’s been swimming well. I know he has, but I’m still stressed. I care so much about how he does that I feel every length with him, like his success and failure have somehow been stitched into my own.
He’s racing against Austin in the medley soon, and I hope it isn’t messing with his head.
They’re the next race, and I can see marshals moving around equipment getting ready for their entrance. Sam qualified second fastest, behind the top American swimmer, Callahan.
When Sam comes out he has his head down, fully focussed.
Just like last time, he doesn’t have headphones on.
No music, just his thoughts. I’ve never asked him what he thinks about when he walks up to the start of a race.
Whatever it is, it looks suitably intense.
I think he’s mouthing something to himself.
A buzzer sounds and the swimmers move to their blocks. While the other men slap their backs and shake out their limbs, Sam stands largely still, eyes on the water. They climb into position, hunched over the water.
I hear the announcement “Take your marks” and clench my hands even tighter.
The moment they dive in, the noise from the crowd notches up another level.
I don’t even realise that I’m screaming until my throat starts to hurt.
By the end of the first two legs of the race, Sam’s leading, but I’ve watched him enough to know the breaststroke is his weakest stroke.
Heart in my mouth, I hold my breath as Austin and the other American start to gain on him.
As they make the final turn, Sam’s still in the lead. It looks like enough… I hope.
I know the world record well enough to see that he’s toeing the line.
The screams of the crowd are nearly deafening.
They love to watch a close race, and this is turning into a battle.
Sam’s still ahead, but not by much. Callahan, the American who qualified fastest, is a hairsbreadth behind him. Austin is third.
I almost cover my eyes for the last few metres, but just manage to hold off. Sam’s still in the lead. When he touches the wall, he’s first.
Gold.
He actually just won gold.
I let out a huge shriek and his dad envelops me in a hug. I can see Sam panting at the finish line, congratulating Callahan.
As they pull themselves out of the pool Austin rushes over to Sam and slaps him on the back, with what looks like a loud whoop.
I leap up and down, waving frantically. All my tiredness from earlier has vanished.
Josh is brandishing our banner, Sam’s dad is crying, and I think I might be too.
He walks around the edge of the pool to where we’re sitting and his dad immediately pulls him close.
“Well done, son,” he says in a choked voice, and the sight of the pair of them sets me off.
“Why are you crying, Kath?” Sam looks baffled at my tear-stained face.
“Because I’m so proud of you,” I manage to say, my voice unsteady. “And I know I’m an ugly crier so you need to stop looking at me, or at least shield me so that the cameras can’t see me. I think almost all the cameras in this pool are currently trained on you.”
“You’re weird.” But he’s laughing as I bury my face in his neck, breathing in the scent of chlorine and Sam. My T-shirt is getting wet but I don’t care, I just want to squeeze him even tighter. I stay cocooned in the hug a moment longer, listening to Sam’s heart thudding against me.
“Where’s my poster?” he asks. “Did I not qualify for one this year?”
“It was a casualty of the celebrations,” I sniff out. I end the hug and attempt to rescue the poster from where it’s half-trampled under my seat. It says “PIRATE’S CODE RULE 30: SWIM LIKE THE RUM’S NEARLY GONE”.
“Well done, mate.” Josh claps him on the back whilst Sam laughs at our artwork. “That was intense. I’ll bet you're going to be on the news later. It’s one of our first golds of the Games.”
“Ah maybe,” Sam says awkwardly. “I probably have to go do some interviews or something. And I have to cool-down. And pee into a cup. It’s a glamorous life.”
I release him reluctantly, but almost immediately spot Austin walking over.
“Alright, Kath?” Austin reaches up to give me a hug. “Knew I couldn’t beat this one, but didn’t think he would thrash me.”
“I didn’t thrash you,” Sam laughs. “And anyway, still not quite world record time, was it?”
“God, Fletcher, just celebrate, would you?” Austin says. “It’s still an Olympic record.”
Sam shrugs. I know how obsessed he is with that world record.
“Ready to go and face your adoring fans?” Austin teases.
“You know I’m awful at the press stuff.” Sam pulls back from the three of us and looks at the cameras with a worried expression.
“You’re not,” I chip in. “Just be yourself.”
He nods as Austin drags him towards the reporters.
I turn a watery smile to his dad. “Our boy did it.”