Twenty-two years old
Sam
Itry to let myself into the house as quietly as possible. The hall light’s still off, so maybe I managed to get back before the others woke up. Toeing off my shoes, I pad into the kitchen.
Austin’s sitting at the counter having breakfast. Shit.
“Who was it this time?” he asks.
I wince at the disappointment in his voice, before annoyance courses through my veins. I’m a twenty-two-year-old guy. I don't have a curfew, especially not one set by my housemate.
“Serena from volleyball,” I say neutrally. “She’s nice.”
“Didn’t know you liked her.”
“Yeah, well.” I wave it off.
He gives me a long look before taking another bite of his toast. “Want to come and grab a coffee with me and Seb?”
“I’m going to the gym,” I tell him coolly.
I head to the fridge to try and find myself some food, or a protein shake at the very least. I don’t want to have this conversation with him. I’m tired, and… well I just don't have it in me today.
“Can I talk to you about something?”
I give a half-nod.
“Have you reached out to Kath yet?” He looks at me carefully. Too carefully.
My heart sinks. I really don’t want to talk about this. I feel like I’m being attacked. I’m done with today and it’s only 6 a.m.
“No,” I tell him, in a tone that I hope shuts down the conversation.
Unfortunately it doesn’t shut down the conversation. Not at all.
“Look, man…” Austin starts, awkwardly running a hand through his hair.
“I don’t want to get in the middle of a fight, but you’ve not been yourself since Rio.
I don’t know what happened between you two, but I think you should speak to her.
It might make you feel better. Whatever you’re doing at the moment, all these hook-ups, it’s not you.
Hell, when you were just friends with Kath, you never even looked at other girls here. And I don’t understand what’s changed.”
“Nothing happened with Kath. Nothing will ever happen with Kath,” I mutter.
“I know that’s not true,” he counters, frowning at me. “Don’t lie, Sam. Something definitely happened. The pair of you have obviously danced around each other for years. I know you’ve slept together before, and I know you were sleeping together again after Rio.”
“How do you know about Rio?” I snap. We didn’t tell anyone at the time.
“Because you looked happy. And because neither of you could stop touching the other. We literally sat at a bar where you essentially had her on your lap all evening, and then danced with each other for hours like there was no one else in the room. That’s what couples do, Sam.
Not friends. You guys have basically always been a couple whether or not you want to admit it. ”
The words land like a slap.
Partly because he’s right. I think Rio was the last time I truly felt alive. Definitely the last time I felt happy.
“I don’t want a girlfriend. I’ve never had one. I can’t have one,” I tell him, instead of voicing my feelings out loud.
“That’s ridiculous, of course you can. And Kath was basically your girlfriend anyway,” he points out.
“You used to text every day. You called her after all your races. You have all these weird jokes and idiosyncrasies as a pair. That’s what a relationship is, Sam.
It isn’t always easy. That’s just life.”
“A relationship with me would never have been fair on her.” I go to the sink to fill a glass of water but turn on the tap a little too forcefully and splash myself.
Fuck. Stupid sink. “I want to swim. It’s my whole life.
I can’t force her to wait for someone who'll always care about something more than her.”
And it’s true. I wish he could see that.
“Can you truly tell me that you care about swimming more than Kath?” Austin asks with a frown.
“You’ve never wanted a relationship either," I tell him, annoyed. "Tell me that you don’t have the same reasons as I do. If it’s supposedly easy for me to do, then why don’t you just go and get a partner? Better yet, one on a different continent.”
He pauses. For a moment he looks like he is going to say more before he lets out a sigh.
“My reasons are my own.”
I want Austin to feel like he can tell me his ‘reasons’. He’s my closest friend in the States, and I want to support him through whatever he’s facing.
“It looks like we’re both keeping secrets.” I glare at him.
Austin raises his hands in mock surrender. “I won’t bring it up again. I just want you to be happy, Sam. And if this is what makes you happy, fine.”
“I am happy.” I slam the fridge door, and something inside clanks loudly.
“Really sounds like it,” he says sarcastically, and I flip him off as I go back upstairs.