I still don’t trust my voice not to wobble and he must sense it, because he moves closer and puts an arm over my shoulder.
“I don’t love Sam,” I tell Austin when I can speak again. “Not in that way.”
As Austin raises his eyebrows at me, I feel my stomach flip.
Liar.
“There you are, Kath,” I hear Sam’s voice behind us. Crap. Did he just hear our conversation? Did I say anything damning?
“I’ve been looking for you. Are you OK?” He walks over to us. He looks stiff, and his shoulders are tight. He looks between me and Austin, noting the arm over my shoulder.
“Yeah, still enjoying the cooler temperature out here.”
“Do you want to leave?” he asks. “I don’t mind if you do. Just let me know when you want to go, and I can grab our stuff.”
“No, let’s stay.” I stand up from the wall. “It’s your last night with everyone here. I think I’ve cooled down enough to go inside.”
As we walk back in, Austin nudges my shoulder in what feels an awful lot like solidarity, and I brace myself to smile through the next few hours.
Chapter 29
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.