Chapter 30 Twenty years old
Twenty years old
Sam
I’m lying on my bed trying to decompress after the day.
I’m finished. Finally finished. The last relay event was earlier and we got a silver.
There was one last time on the podium. Another round of listening to the US anthem as they bagged yet another gold.
Another set of press conferences and drug tests.
And now I’m back in my room, looking at the medal in my hand and letting the day sink in. Letting the last few weeks sink in.
I miss my mum.
It hits like a wave.
I really, really miss her.
Alone in my room after finishing another race, it’s suddenly an all-consuming feeling. When they asked about our motivation for swimming in the last interview, I felt like I had to mention her, and how much she’d supported me. But now I can’t stop thinking about her.
I wonder whether she’d be proud of me? I think she would.
Or would she be sad that I’d missed all those moments with her by going to practice?
All the hours I spent in pools, or gyms or commuting to meets was time that we could’ve spent together.
And after all that I couldn’t even get her a world record. Was it worth it?
I wish I could talk to her about the pressure.
Everyone expects me to be happy with how well I’ve done, but instead I just feel dread.
Dread about how public expectations for my performance have been raised higher.
Dread that now the presenters will be talking about my medals like they’re guaranteed.
They all seem to forget that I’m only the fastest until someone younger and better comes along. Or until I get injured.
I scroll through my phone looking at photos of my last Olympics, the ones with Mum in them. I remember how she used to make brownies, and bring them to me in the hotel for after the race.
A text from Coach Miller comes through, snapping me back into the moment.
Coach: Glad you actually listened to me and got some sleep this time. We all know you’re shit on less than seven hours.
I huff out a laugh, some of the tension easing in my chest.
A second ping:
Coach: Enjoy the weeks off. Then I’ll see you back in the pool.
I grab some clothes and start changing. Josh has flown home, but Kath and I are going out tonight and I need to cheer up. I should be happy. I should be having the time of my life.
Thirty minutes later the pair of us are heading to a bar just outside the Olympic Village to meet my friends.
Kath’s got a short flowery dress on and is even wearing heels, making me realise that she’s taking the idea of a ‘night out’ seriously.
The streets are buzzing around us, flags from all around the world being brandished on corners.
In the throng of people, the heat is oppressive, and sweat prickles at the back of my neck.
The colours, the sound, the heat. It all feels like it’s been dialled up a notch. I can smell food from street carts, and somewhere nearby a drum rhythm kicks in, thrumming through the crowd like a heartbeat.
“Hey.” Kath nudges my shoulder just before we walk through the door. “You did it. Congratulations, Sam. Truly.”
“Thanks.” I give her a small smile before pushing through the entrance and being hit by another wall of noise.
It takes my eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness.
Craning my neck, I look through the sea of people for anyone I recognise.
A bar runs almost the entirety of the length of the wall on one side and there’s a huge dance floor and DJ booth at the back.
I take a step in and my feet stick to the floor. I grimace.
She tugs on my hand. “Are you proud of yourself?” Her brown eyes are surprisingly serious when she looks at me.
“I guess so?” I squirm under her gaze. Am I? I don’t know. I currently feel a strange mix of guilt and grief. Or at least I think that’s what the emotions are.
“You guess so,” she scoffs. “Come on, Sam. You’re coming home with three individual gold medals and a silver and bronze from the relays. You’re now one of the most decorated British athletes of all time and you set an Olympic record. You should be proud of yourself.”
“I think I see the guys,” I tell her, avoiding her question and dragging her over to the corner of the bar where I can see Austin and Seb.
“This conversation is not over,” she shouts to me over the music as we wend our way through the crowd.
Austin and Seb are at a table surrounded by a group of people.
There are some British swimmers, my Florida teammates, their American swimming friends and some of the Canadian guys.
Then a mixture of non-swimmers who must be family and friends.
It’s something else I love about our sport.
So many of us train together that there aren’t really any big rivalries.
Generally everyone gets along. If I lose, I’m annoyed.
But it’s usually tempered by the fact that I generally know and like the person who beat me.
I’m frustrated with myself for swimming badly, not with them for doing better.
“Fletcher!” Austin stands to give me a hug. “How are you? I hear you’re all over TV in the UK.”
“It’s only during the Olympics.” I shrug awkwardly. “Hopefully they forget about me by next week.”
“Oi.” Kath shoots me an unimpressed look. “You won multiple medals. You’re not allowed to be self-deprecating until at least November.”
I smile, but she’s not done. She turns to the rest of the group, her glare softening into something warm.
“I’m so impressed with all of you,” she says. “I know how hard you work.”
“Are you going soft on us, Ford?” Austin teases.
“Never.” She rolls her eyes. “But seriously, I just wanted to say I’m really happy for you guys. I feel aggressively mediocre sitting here surrounded by this much raw athletic talent. Frankly, it’s a bit rude.”
“You’re anything but mediocre,” I tell her as Seb starts enthusiastically waving at AJ, who’s just arrived with his brother.
“Kath!” AJ beams as he spots Kath. “You look ravishing, as always.”
I groan internally. At least he didn’t call her KitKat.
“Why thank you; you do too,” she says, grinning. “Hey, Corey,” she adds, waving at AJ’s brother—who responds with a wink so smug it should come with its own soundtrack. Must be genetic.
“Fletch!” AJ turns on me dramatically. “Why don’t you have a drink in your hand? This is a party, not a library!”
“You know what? You’re right,” I tell him. “For once,” I caveat as he opens his mouth again. “I think I’ve just become so used to never drinking that I forgot that this is one of the few nights where I actually can.”
“Someone give this guy a beer,” AJ whoops across the group. “I’ve heard that he may be something of a big deal back home.”
“I’m not a big deal,” I grumble.
“Yes, you are,” Kath sings in my ear. “But we don’t have to talk about it now if you don’t want to.”
She stands up to go and buy everyone a round of drinks and I fall into conversation with the guys.
Ten minutes later when she isn’t back, I frown and look around.
Some guy is talking to her at the bar and when I squint I spot that it’s one of the French swimmers.
One of the really annoying French swimmers who isn’t actually friendly to anyone else on the circuit. I’ve never liked that guy.
“Why are you trying to kill Luc with your eyes?” Austin asks.
“I’m not.”
“Do we hate him on principle because he’s talking to Kath or are you just gazing intently at the alcohol display behind the bar with a face like thunder?”
“Shut up,” I grunt.
“Hey, I’m happy to hate him on principle too.”
“I’m going over there.” But before I can stand up Kath saunters back, beers in hand.
“What are you guys getting up to for the rest of the week then?” she asks Seb.
The groups start chatting about their plans whilst I quietly nurse my beer. This is one of the first beers I’ve had in nearly a year. The others don’t always take the non-drinking side of training as seriously as I do, but I almost never have alcohol.
When I finish the second bottle, I’m already beginning to feel slightly buzzed, and Kath’s hair is looking prettier and prettier. It’s so shiny and such a beautiful shade of brown. I love the slightly lighter strands that run through, sun-kissed from her time here.
“Your hair’s pretty,” I tell her, and she laughs. “And it’s really soft.”
“Two beers, Sam? Really?”
I just smile at her and pull her onto my lap so that I can stroke her hair. I like being close to Kath. She smells so good. Of her. And home. My nose skims against her neck and she sucks in a breath, stiffening for a moment before relaxing into me. Austin’s watching us, but doesn’t say anything.
“I heard your interview, you know,” Kath says to me as we wait for the others to get another round of drinks.
“Really? Which one?” I hum against her skin, inhaling the smell of her coconut shampoo again.
“The one you just did,” she replies, rubbing my leg softly and turning to me, our faces close.
I can even make out her freckles in the dim lighting.
“The one where you spoke about your mum and how you wanted to make her proud. She’d be proud of you.
It would’ve made her so happy to see this whole week. ”
“Do you really think that?” The alcohol’s loosening my tongue. “I don’t know if she would be.”
Mum always used to tell me there was more to life than swimming. Always used to encourage me to have more friends over to our house. I don’t know if she would be happy with the version of my life I’ve made, and now I can’t ever ask her.
“Oh, Sam,” Kath sighs. “She was already so proud of you. Don’t you remember how happy she was in Paris? I was sitting next to her in the stands and honestly I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone shout so loudly. Your happiness is what made her happy.”
I hum absentmindedly, curling another strand of her hair around my finger.
“I really miss you when I’m away.” I switch from one painful truth to another.
“I miss you too.” She leans back into my chest. “I have lots of great friends, but you’re the best one.”
Someone hands me another bottle of beer and I drink it in two quick gulps. Best friend. Remember that, Sam. Just friends.
“Pace yourself,” she warns me.
Too late. The room blurs a little. But the girl on my lap is crystal clear.
Having Kath this close reminds me of the summer before we left for university. A time when I could pull her towards me and it would end with a kiss. I wish we could have that again. I wonder if she does?
“Do I wish for what?” Kath turns to look at me.
“For how things were before I left. You know over the summer…” I trail off. She’s still watching me. Eyes wide.
“Alright, you two; let’s go and dance,” someone calls, and I groan grumpily as Austin pulls Kath up and towards the dance floor.
I don’t resist as Kath grabs my hand. As I watch the lights bounce off her hair, I wonder once again why we can’t be together.
I might only be in America another few years.
Maybe I could make things work this time.
The question echoes around my mind as I put my hand on her waist and we start to sway.