7. Chapter 6 Carter
J anuary 2024
Just as I expect, January is a month of utter chaos from the moment it starts.
Coach wasted no time kicking us into gear for the upcoming Olympics, already training us harder than he did the previous year. The sets were harder, the practices longer, and I felt the exhaustion at the end of it all deeper in my bones. It’s all an old routine to me now, knowing that I must make every moment between now and the Games count more than anything, and I can’t waste them. There won’t be such a thing as a day off for months.
On top of all the training and the stacked schedule of meets I have color-coded in a calendar on my phone, there’s also a storm of media requests. People are starting to care about swimming and pay attention to it again. As we amp up for Paris, the realization that a lot of their favorite swimmers have retired since they last cared has created a lot of questions about whether Team USA can hold on to the legacy we’ve had for years. What better way to show spectators that Team USA is in good hands than to interview veterans hoping for one more Olympics and the brightest up-and-coming stars the sport has to offer?
I fall into the first category.
This has always been my least favorite aspect of being a professional in the sport. I’m always worried I wear my heart too much on my sleeve for this and setting boundaries feels strange. Unlike Bryce, I never mastered the poker face he could give the media. He had a talent for giving them just enough and never bringing his personal life into it. My personal life has been in it longer than I care to admit.
Then there’s the pool. While I’m having cameras shoved in my face and being questioned about things that happened ten years ago, Josie and Bryce are in Columbia dealing with a mess I handed them. Construction started on schedule, but Katrina has been pestering me about little details here and there. I don’t know if she doesn’t believe Bryce when he tells her he’s already talked to me about something, but she feels the need to follow up with me. It should be annoying, especially since we specifically told her I’d be busy, but so far, it’s been having the opposite effect.
It’s been a good distraction from everything else going on. Bryce has been keeping me updated by sending me photos of everything as it happens, but has mostly kept things spaced out as to not bombard me with constant messages. I know it’s to keep me from getting distracted, but I wish he’d give me more information as it came. Katrina’s questions and updates have been making me feel like I’m still part of it.
The more we text, the more I find myself wanting to know more. Although we haven’t shared anything too personal yet, I feel this draw to her that I can’t quite explain. I’m sure it has everything to do with the fact that it’s been years since my last serious relationship, something I’d rather not dwell on too deeply. The last break up hurt, no matter how mutual it was, and nothing else seemed to go anywhere. I can blame it on my priorities being elsewhere, but the reality is no one seems to want serious with a professional athlete; and I’ve never been one for flings.
I certainly have no interest in a long-distance, pen pal like relationship with our contractor who I know nothing about. No matter how happy seeing flickers of her personality shining to otherwise professional text messages makes me.
As soon as I drop my bag by the door, my phone goes off with a text. I pull it from the pocket of my sweatshirt to find a text from Katrina. A smile pulls its way across my face, but before I can even open the message, a call comes in from Bryce.
I answer the call. “Fuck you.”
Bryce responds with a shocked laugh. “Hello to you, too. Why am I on your shit list today?”
I move into the kitchen to grab a drink. “Because you’re retired. Why couldn’t you hold out until we both could have retired?”
Another laugh. “I’m guessing the interview today went well?”
I collapse onto the couch with a groan. “They asked me if you are going to make a comeback four times. Then, when they’d exhausted that question, it was all about whether I could hack it without you. Like I didn’t make it to Worlds without you.”
“Damn.” He whistles. “I’m sorry, Carter. You have the right to be mad at me.”
Sighing, I sink further back into the cushions. “No, I don’t. It’s not your fault people can’t come up with unique questions.”
“No, but you can’t be mad at them. So be mad at me. I can handle it.”
I swallow against the sudden lump building up in my throat. I miss doing this with him. I’m one of the oldest athletes trying to make the team; I’m tired; I hate dealing with the media. All those things would have been so much easier to face with Bryce by my side.
I don’t blame him for wanting to retire. He was ready to move on, and his body was ready for him to quit, too. In a lot of ways, Bryce had the choice taken from him. An injury he couldn’t fully bounce back from was the final nail in the coffin of his career. In those last few months, it was hard to watch him struggle through meets and recovery that took four times as long.
I get to make the choice. I can go or stay—it’s up to me and it’s not fair for me to put any blame on him.
“How about I don’t get mad at anyone?” I offer. “It doesn’t do any good for me to be mad at them or you, especially when the decision is fully up to me.”
I hear some slight shuffling in the background, Josie’s voice muffled as she talks to someone else. “Are you having second thoughts? Is that why you haven’t made an official announcement?”
“No,” I insist, “I’m done.”
“I was serious when I told you we’d make it work if you want to keep going.”
“And I’m serious when I say I’m done. I’m tired, Bryce. This has been my whole life for so long. Emotionally, mentally, and physically—I’m tired.”
“I get it.” I know he does; he was already starting to feel that way when he got hurt. “I just want to make sure you know there are choices.”
Choices he didn’t have. Choices he wants to make sure I’ve thought about before giving up the one thing I’ve ever really worked toward.
“I promise I know that,” I assure him. “And I know you have my back.”
“Always.”
It’s been like this for as long as I can remember; inseparable childhood best friends who chased a crazy dream together. Bryce Clark has been one of the few people who have stayed by my side without question. He was the first person I came out to when I was fifteen and he was by my side when I told my family a year later. They were great, but I knew he was ready to intervene if it had gone the other way. That I’d always have a place at the Clarks, and no one was going to question who I am or make me explain myself.
Carter and Bryce. Bryce and Carter. We’d always been those kinds of friends and it wasn’t going to change.
“Katrina has been sending me updates on how everything is going.” I change the subject from focusing on the past and present, shifting it to what’s coming next. “It looks like a completely different place now that it’s all cleaned out.”
“I’m just happy the smell has mostly gone away.” He chuckles. “She shouldn’t be sending you updates, though. I’ve told her how busy you are and that I can handle it. I’ll tell her to back off again.”
“No.” Maybe the word comes out too fast. Maybe there’s too much force behind my insistence, but I can’t take it back now. “She’s not bothering me or asking me a million questions. It’s fine, seriously.”
I don’t want to tell him how out of the loop I’m feeling. How I wish I could just throw in the towel and move to Columbia, let my focus be on what’s coming. I’ve never been good when it comes to staring down a goodbye, and I know this is going to be the hardest one yet. Despite how ready I am, I’d rather just skip past the hard part.
“If you’re sure, man.” He knows there’s something I’m not telling him. I can tell by the way he hesitates, pausing to see if I’ll tell him anything else. “Just let me know if it gets to be too much.”
“Yeah, of course.” I fight against a yawn. “I need to take a nap, Bryce. Morning practice kicked my ass and coach wants us back for a weight session after dinner.”
“There’s something else I want to talk to you about if you can wait a couple more minutes.” Bryce informs me before I can even think of hanging up. “It’s something I’m not going to do without talking to you first.”
Well, that has my attention. “Yeah, what’s up?”
“Remember how Mia offered to help us market the club?” I find myself nodding, despite knowing he can’t see me. “I think we need to do more than just take her up on the offer. We need to hire her.”
Technically, it’s in the budget, but the salary is nowhere near to what she’s making now. “You know Mia will say yes if we offer it to her, and we can’t afford her, man. I’m not making her accept a job she doesn’t want because we’re her friends. That’ll be setting her career back.”
“I know, and I would never take advantage of her like that, but I think she needs a legitimate reason to leave Charlotte and we can give it to her.”
If there’s one thing I know about Mia Sheridan, it’s that she doesn’t run away from anything. If she’s looking to leave, there has to be more to the story. “What happened?”
“Bianca happened,” Bryce replies. “Or, at least, she is happening.”
I don’t know much about Mia’s ex, just that she’d left and hadn’t returned after a fight. Mia was heartbroken, not knowing what to do about the lack of communication. It’d left a strong impact on her. She’d used her own experience to convince Bryce not to abandon someone you care about when things get hard.
“Part of their fight was Bianca wanting her parents to buy them a house and fund a marketing business for them. I’m sure you can imagine how Mia took that.”
I could picture it clearly. Mia believes in hard work and not having anything handed to her. She wants to know she deserves the things she gets. Plus, Josie told me she loves working for the firm she’s at right now. “So, they fought about it?”
“Yup. Bianca got mad, accused her of secretly hating her for having parents who care about her, and left. About a month ago, I guess some of Mia’s clients got poached by a new firm out of nowhere.”
My blood ran cold, anger bubbling up inside me. “No.”
“Turns out, Bianca’s parents still funded that business for her and are helping her offer clients amazing perks for signing with her. In the process of it all, she’s tanking Mia’s reputation and credibility in Charlotte.” The tone in Bryce’s voice tells me he’s clenching his fists, fighting against the same anger I’m feeling. “Since the firm Mia works at caters to local small businesses, they’re talking about firing her because they don’t want to be affiliated with someone who has a bad reputation.”
“What the hell?” I sit up straighter, suddenly feeling wide awake. “That’s so fucked up. None of that is her fault, and they should be focusing on doing something about Bianca. She’s the one ruining reputations here.”
“That would include potential legal issues they don’t want to be wrapped up in.” Bryce’s tone is mocking as he parrots whatever was said to Mia.
“That’s bullshit.” I’ll never understand how businesses can decide what battles to fight, especially at the expense of their employees.
“I know,” Bryce agrees. “Look, Josie doesn’t know I’m telling you this, and I don’t think Mia knows I know.”
“I won’t say anything,” I promise, “but Mia’s not an idiot. Don’t insult her intelligence. She knows you and Josie tell each other everything.”
He laughs awkwardly. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. My point is, Mia won’t agree to the job if she thinks I’m offering it to her out of pity. I want to make sure you’re in on it and agree with me before I tell her about it.”
“Of course I am.” There’s not a single doubt in my mind about this decision. Mia would add an element to the club that neither Bryce nor I could bring. Their blog hadn’t failed because they weren’t good, it just wasn’t what the sport necessarily needed at the time. “I don’t have a clue how to market a place like this.”
“Great, that’s what I’ll tell her when I pitch it to her.” He’s basically talking to himself now, working through a plan on how to present this idea to Mia in a way that shows we’re more authentic in our request than wanting to offer her help she’d never asked for. “Hopefully she won’t look at it like it’s a handout.”
“Because that’s not what it is. We need her and maybe she needs out of Charlotte. It’s just friends looking out for one another.”
He groans. “I hope she sees it that way. Maybe I should have Josie pitch it to her.”
“No,” I protest. “She’ll see it the way we want her to. Besides, you’re a good friend, Bryce.” I hear him scoff in the background. “I’m serious, dude. You’re the type of friend who’s always looking out for his friends. Standing up for them, opening a club with them, finding ways to get them out of shitty situations. It’s who you are.”
“Mia and I are not friends,” he argues. “She hates me.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” If Mia hates him, I’m not sure he’d be house hunting with her best friend right now. “I’m serious. I need to take a nap and you have a phone call to make. Let me know what she says?”
“Uh, yeah, I’ll text you. Get some sleep, dude.”
We wrap the conversation up from there and I stand from the couch, my stiff and sore muscles protesting at the movement. My bed is calling my name.
I grab my drink off the coffee table and head into my room, checking Katrina’s message as I go. She sent me a quick video of Josie beating the shit out of a wall with a sledgehammer, the message simple: Everyone should fear her.
I laugh, wondering if Bryce has seen this video. I quickly type out a reply, confirming she’s right before making sure my alarm is set and plugging my phone in. I don’t pull the blinds shut, too exhausted for the extra ten steps. Instead, I just pull my T-shirt over my head, drop it on the floor, and face plant into my bed. Sleep instantly overtakes me.