Chapter 7

By Friday, we were halfway done with the trials, and Kat was killing it. She hadn’t posted any more records, but she’d qualified for the team in every event she was entered in so far. Today was mostly for events she wasn’t in, except a couple of prelims for the longer races, which wouldn’t have their finals until Saturday and Sunday. So, it was an easier day, allowing us a late start. We were still heading over to watch the events, but without the need to do warm-ups or change, so we could take our time.

Even better, from Kat’s point of view, was that her races weren’t until after lunch, so she actually got to eat a full breakfast without worrying about being sluggish or having stomach problems from competing too close to eating. With all the exertion from the week so far, Kat had been ravenous every time she’d been able to eat, and I was watching her devour her second plate of pancakes like it was the first thing she’d had to eat in weeks.

We were, however, pushing our timing a little bit. The first event started in twenty minutes, and I didn’t want to end up at the top of the bleachers. Picking up my phone for the seventh time in five minutes, I elicited a sigh from Kat.

“You know, staring at your phone isn’t going to make her magically appear,” Kat said, not even bothering to look up from her pancakes.

“I know, I know,” I said, putting my phone face down on the table. “I just don’t want to be late and end up with bad seats.”

Kat gave a noncommittal hum and sawed off another chunk of pancake. Maybe it was because I had to pay attention to things like show times and not keeping audiences waiting, but I hated being late.

“That’s it, I’m going to go knock on her door,” I announced, pushing back my chair. “It shouldn’t take this long just to get ready.”

“Take my key card,” Kat said, fishing the card out of her pocket and handing it to me. “She was already dressed when I left, so just head on in.”

“Thanks,” I said, grabbing the key. “I’ll try to hurry her along.”

Kat waved me off, her attention already back on her pancakes. Shaking my head in amusement, I headed out of the breakfast area and toward the elevators.

We were on the fourth floor, which for this hotel was also the top floor. It wasn’t the nicest hotel, but it was decent and better than a lot of the places MAC had put us up in when we were on tour. Of course, we were paying out of pocket for this, but at least the beds were comfortable.

When I arrived, I hesitated outside the door. Perhaps I should knock first, just to be safe. But Kat had specifically instructed me to go ahead and enter since Hanna was already dressed. And we really needed to get a move on.

Besides, I had walked into Hanna’s room countless times without any issues. We were practically siblings, considering how close we were to living together and from traveling on tour.

Pushing open the door, I stepped inside and halted, preventing myself from colliding with Hanna. She had been pacing near the door, phone pressed to her ear, engaged in a hushed conversation. Her eyes widened as she noticed me, freezing for a moment before turning away and cupping the phone with her other hand.

“ ... I’m sorry, but I have to go. I love you,” she whispered softly before swiftly ending the call.

If she had been across the room, I might not have heard it, but being so close, her soft words reached my ears.

“Charlie! Why didn’t you knock?” she exclaimed, lowering the phone and hurriedly slipping it into her pocket.

I paused, raising an eyebrow curiously as I let the door close behind me. “Kat gave me her key card since we are running late. Who were you talking to?”

Hanna shrugged, heading towards her bag which was on one of the beds. “Just my mom. She wanted to check in about today’s events.”

Mrs. Philips had been calling every day to stay updated, but my intuition was tingling with skepticism.

“Your mom, huh?” I said skeptically.

“Yes, my mom,” she replied defensively, which only heightened my doubts.

She ignored me and busied herself gathering her purse and jacket, purposely avoiding eye contact.

“I’ve heard you talk to your mom many times, and that didn’t sound like you were talking to her,” I remarked, leaning against the wall.

I wasn’t trying to interrogate her, as it wasn’t any of my business who she was speaking to. But after the Troy drama, it would be a lie to say I wasn’t curious.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she insisted.

“Uh-huh.”

Behind me, there was a knock on the door. Since I was closest, I opened it, revealing Kat.

“I think I ate too much,” she said, placing a hand on her stomach, before pausing and noticing Hanna’s expression. “What’s going on?”

“Whatever, I don’t have time for this,” Hanna replied, brushing past the two of us and exiting into the hallway. “I’m going to grab a muffin or something. I’ll see you two out front.”

“What was that?” Kat asked as Hanna disappeared around the corner.

“I have no idea,” I replied. “When I came in, she was whispering to someone on the phone, saying she loved them before hanging up really quickly.”

“Did she mention who it was?”

“She claimed it was her mom, but ... I think she was lying.”

“Really?” Kat responded, not even bothering to inquire why Hanna would lie about such a thing.

She remembered the drama with Troy as vividly as I did. Considering how that ended, I doubted it had anything to do with him. However, if she was concealing a new relationship, she must have had a reason for doing so.

“Yeah,” I said, exchanging a knowing glance with Kat.

Not that there was much we could do about it. Hanna would date whoever she wanted, and we would have to deal with the consequences. But we couldn’t help but worry until we learned more.

“Let’s get going,” I suggested.

We let the drama surrounding Hanna’s call fade away, as Kat needed to stay focused. By Sunday, she had participated in every event she was registered for, although she hadn’t come in first place each time. Nonetheless, she had secured her spot on the team in every event she competed in. The longer races had proven to be more challenging for her.

Kat was more inclined towards sprinting rather than distance swimming, and she had struggled in the eight-hundred-meter race the previous day, barely managing to qualify for her spot by surpassing the third-place finisher. She had been anxious all morning, knowing that she had the fifteen-hundred-meter race today, which was undoubtedly her weakest race. I had to practically force her to eat breakfast since such a long race required sufficient fuel to endure.

The silver lining was that her race was scheduled before lunch, and it would be her last one. Initially, we had booked the hotel until tonight, assuming we would return on Monday, as we had no way of knowing the schedule until they posted it the day we arrived. This meant that we essentially had the evening free in Indianapolis to do whatever we pleased. It also meant that we would finally get to spend time with Kat when she didn’t have the overwhelming pressure of the entire event weighing on her.

As the trials approached, Kat had worked harder and got more stressed. It would be wonderful to have the carefree Kat back. Of course, first, we had to get through today unscathed. We had breakfast and walked to the venue in silence, with Kat becoming increasingly nervous. The tension had become palpable, and someone needed to break it.

“So, what’s the plan for tonight?” I asked.

“What?” Kat replied.

“You’ll be done by lunch, so what’s the plan? For once, we’re all in the same city and no one has anything more important to do. We can finally hang out and do something enjoyable. It’s been ages since we’ve had the chance to do that.”

“I don’t know,” Kat mumbled. “Whatever you want to do.”

Kat had gradually been coming out of her shell, growing more confident. She had even started standing up to me recently, a change I truly appreciated. This mumbling, frightened Kat was a setback ... a reaction to her nerves.

We continued walking in silence. I could feel the nervous energy emanating from Kat. Her shoulders were tense, and she stared straight ahead, lost in her thoughts. When we reached the building and the locker room, I reached out and stopped her from entering. Instead, I turned her around to face me, placing my other hand on her other shoulder, so she had no choice but to look at me.

“You’re going to be incredible. Remember how worried you were before your first race, and you killed it. You’ve already made the team in a bunch of races, and they’ll have to put you on some of the relays, based on that national record you set on Wednesday. No matter what happens today, you’ve done amazing, and you should be proud of yourself. I know I’m really proud of you!”

For the first time all morning, Kat smiled. It didn’t quite reach her eyes, but it was better than the thousand-yard stare she had been wearing all morning.

“Thanks, Charlie. I’m really glad you’re both here with me. It means a lot,” she said.

She threw her arms around me in a fierce hug, burying her face in my chest. I didn’t say anything, just hugged her back tightly, trying to somehow transmit my confidence in her through osmosis. Regardless of what I managed to convince her of, I had complete confidence in her. She had worked so hard for this moment, and I knew she would excel.

Finally, Kat stepped back, a shaky smile on her face, before turning to Hanna and pulling her into the same embrace.

“Go get ‘em,” Hanna said. “You are so ready for this.”

With one last brave look, Kat disappeared into the locker room. Hanna linked her arm with mine as we walked over to find seats by the pool.

“Good job,” she said.

“I hope so. She’s been doing so well, and I don’t want her falling short of the expectations she’s set for herself to cause a setback. You should see her back home. She’s been telling me no and ignoring everything I tell her.”

If I had said a similar sentence to anyone else, they would have thought I was crazy, but Hanna understood.

“Let’s go get our seats,” she said, giving me an approving look.

By the time we found our seats, the swimmers from the previous race were just clearing the pool, and the judges and volunteers began resetting it for the next race. After about ten minutes, the swimmers for the women’s fifteen-hundred-meter race emerged, with a still nervous-looking Kat in the lead, meaning she had the lane closest to us. She didn’t look up towards us in the stands, but she was looking more focused, serious, and less nervous as she got into position.

This was the competitive Kat. She might have nerves and anxiety, but once she stepped onto the starting block, she switched into her athlete mode. She was all business and ready for the race, which is why I never had any doubt that she would give it her best.

All the formalities taken care of, the swimmers got ready, setting themselves up on their blocks. The buzzer sounded, releasing them like wind-up toys, all shooting off their platforms. Kat’s entry was flawless as usual, her body slicing through the surface, barely making a ripple. Underwater, her form was precise, arms swinging forward in clean strokes as her legs kicked steadily. She surfaced one-third down the first length of the pool in fifth place.

She had told us some of her coach’s advice last night, after her close eight-hundred-meter finish. He had advised her to take it conservatively for the first four-hundred meters, not letting herself get sucked into chasing the leaders. If she could maintain her speed for the first two-thirds of the race, keeping a good distance from the front runners, she had the speed to close in on the leaders during the last leg.

By the five-hundred meter mark, she had moved up to fourth, but was still a body length behind the lead group of three. She stuck to the plan, not allowing herself to surge ahead and catch them. Her pace remained controlled and steady. Hanna reached over and squeezed my arm, shooting me a smile.

“She looks good,” she said.

I nodded, barely looking over, and said, “Yeah.”

The halfway point came and went with Kat still holding fourth place. A noticeable gap had formed between her and the front three swimmers, who were steadily pulling away. This was the make-it-or-break-it moment. Keeping a measured speed was one thing, but if she allowed them to get too big of a lead on her, there was no way she’d be able to close the distance during the final leg.

Thankfully, Kat seemed to notice it too. It was hard to tell from where I was in the stands, but it looked like she increased her tempo. Not too much, but enough to start shortening the gap. Agonizingly slowly she began to close the distance between her and the front runners.

With three hundred meters left to go, she had cut the gap to third-place swimmer to within half a body length. The two girls in the lead were still well ahead of them, but three hundred meters was a lot of water, and anything could happen. Hanna was as much on the edge of her seat as I was, with her hands clenched beneath her chin.

With one hundred and fifty meters left, Kat pulled even with the third place swimmer, with both girls battling hard. For a dozen strokes, they were perfectly matched, neither able to pull ahead. Then, with a powerful surge, Kat inched her head out in front. She hit the halfway turn into the final hundred meters a full body length ahead.