1. Camden #2
Luke came out to the public a few months ago, and he was the first male Olympic gymnast to do that, while also being the youngest on the team.
I had to admit, I was jealous that he could stay so carefree and relaxed when I knew from Coach Woodward that he was being hounded for interviews.
The entire team was really. All of us knew long before he made the announcement, and no one had a problem with it.
While it was admirable, I didn’t want to take that step.
I couldn’t handle that level of scrutiny, and I didn’t understand how he could.
I preferred to be a part of ‘America’s Sweethearts’ even if it was silly.
That was what the media called me and Erika.
We had known each other since we were in grade school gymnastics.
And then we both attended the same schools, all the way through college.
We never pretended to be a couple, but many people assumed.
We were cute, friendly, and always together, so the name kind of happened. I forget who came up with it.
This was the first Olympics for the both of us.
At nineteen, I was one year older than the minimum age required for men.
Erika was fifteen for the last Olympics and while she was qualified skill-wise, she was one year younger than the requirement of sixteen.
Bad timing for her. There were two sixteen-year-olds on the women’s team this year.
I rounded the last corner and had the dining hall in my sights.
It was nice to be free to walk around. They shut the entire complex off from the public during the training exercises before the official opening ceremony.
Once the games were under way, athletes would have to take athlete-only shuttles between the different restricted areas.
I gave my notifications a quick glance. I had left social media a while ago because it was such a distraction, but before heading down under, the US Gymnastics Association stressed to us the importance of interacting with fans, updating our stories, and being little social media butterflies.
I knew I wouldn’t want to do that, which was why, on the flight to Australia, I had gone through a lot of my stock photos and pre-scheduled my posts.
It was kind of cheating, but I kind of had something else to focus on at the moment.
I’d have to throw in a few selfies here and there, and taking them would hopefully come naturally.
Remembering to post them would be the hard part.
Erika was waiting on a couch in the lobby.
“Hey, beautiful. How’d practice go?”
“The vault was giving me issues today,” I said.
“Really?” she asked. “What’s up with that?”
“I don’t really know.”
We headed to the American section of the hall.
There were so many options from around the world, and I wanted to try all of them.
Food was a weakness, but around comp time, I had to buckle down and eat by the book.
Erika and I would not ruin a chance at the Olympics by eating stir-fry all week, even if cooked by a Michelin star chef from Beijing.
We both settled for the same thing - a fruit salad and some chicken - and found a quiet table in a corner.
“How did your practice go?” I asked.
“About the same as all the others. Expectations are super high. The team got gold last year and we only have one returning athlete. We’re all nervous, but our coaches keep on telling us to think of it as a normal competition.”
“That makes sense. But I get how it would be hard to do that. The men’s team hasn’t medaled in over two decades, so not much pressure on our end, but it’s still the Olympics. Kind of hard to ignore that and treat it like the Orange County Invitational.”
Erika laughed. “You got that right.”
“So…”
“What?” she asked.
“Tyler may have said something that got me thinking.”
“Tyler had enough brain power to cause you to think? I find that hard to believe,” she said.
“Oh, come on, he’s sweet and chill and so easy to be around. Give him some credit.”
“Okay, okay. What were the beach boy’s words of wisdom that got your brain all fired up?”
“Uh...he suggested I get laid.”
She looked up at me right away, trying to read my eyes. With practice, I had honed my skills. No one could tell what I was feeling anymore.
“So, you’re thinking about fucking,” she said.
“How do you do that?”
“Do what?” she asked.
“Know me so well?”
“Absorption? Telepathy? Hm...maybe it’s something to do with the ten years we’ve been inseparable? I believe it’s called ‘I know you almost better than you know yourself,’ Cam!” I scoffed, though she had a point. “So, you think it’s a possibility? It’s been four years since Za-”
“Don’t say it, Erika!”
“Sorry, since he-who-shall-not-be-named.”
“Thank you, Hermione.” I ran my fingers through my hair. “And yeah, I think on my terms, it could be fun and help blow off some stress.”
“Blow, being the penultimate word there,” she quipped.
I didn’t blink. “Well, of course. Did you see the bowls of condoms lying around everywhere? It’s not even subliminal, it’s flat out pushy. Thank God they don’t allow parents in the village. I don’t need another sex talk from my mom.”
“What? Your mom was so sweet. She even had a banana and everything.”
“And I’m done with fruit salad for the week! Thank you, Erika.”
We laughed, and I smiled at her. “Thank you. This is just what I needed after today. You always know what to say and it always makes me feel better.”
“That’s the power of America’s Sweethearts!”
“Amen, sistah!”
“Oh jeez, America’s Corn Dogs, if you say that again, you nerd. So, are you just going to walk up to some rando Dutch pole vaulter and see if he wants to check out your pole?”
I spit my water out for the second time that day. “Christ, Erika!”
“What?” she said. “You know sex puns are a fave pastime, and the Olympics is prime material. Balls, poles...okay, that’s all I have for now, but I’ll keep at it.”
“You do that. And I was planning on using Grindr. I’m still in the closet, so no headshots, no real name. And I will spell out that this is one time and on the DL.”
“I figured as much. But don’t blame me if I imagine you getting whisked away by Prince Charming someday. You deserve it, Cam. You,” she stabbed her finger into my chest, “are a catch.”
I couldn’t help but blush. I did not take compliments well. “Maybe someday,” I said.
A brief silence followed as we pushed around the rest of our fruit. Someone was baking chocolate chip cookies, and I wanted to murder them.
The cookies, that is.
“You think you’re ready for this?” Erika spoke up.
“I’ve thought about it. I need to find someone smaller than me, so I feel safer. And I will clarify that I am a strict top. I’m not sucking and I’m not getting fucked.”
“Great mission statement for your future resume.”
“We’ll see about that,” I said. “But in all honesty, I won’t know until I try. And as long as I’m in the driver’s seat, so-to-speak, I should be okay. I can text before and after if that makes you feel better.”
“Well, I want you to be safe, but I’m not your keeper. If you want to text me, that’s fine. You wanna catch a movie at the fake drive-in they set up outside before your tryst? Try to relax a little more?”
“Sure, that sounds good. Thanks again, Erika. I can only hope to be as helpful to you if the time comes.”
“When...when the time comes.” She winked.