Chapter 35

The people in the stands were full of energy, with flags everywhere from multiple nations, although Japanese more than any other. They actually had a swimmer in the finals, but she was low-ranked and had barely gotten through the semifinals. Her countrymen, though, were riled up and cheering for her.

The Americans were cheering too, as we had two swimmers in the race, but Kat had beaten the other girl’s time in the semis and beaten her at team trials, so she was the favorite to bring home gold. I was nervous for her though. I’d only been able to talk to her briefly the night before, and she was exhausted.

She’d done amazingly well in the games so far, getting gold in every race, although the hundred-meter mixed relay had been close and she’d had to swim the race of her life to make up for the slower performance of the person who did the butterfly. She’d managed the fastest split of her career so far, getting the gold. But just barely.

And she’d complained about a slight pain in her left shoulder after that. I knew she was going to try to put it out of her mind and push through because what else could she do, but I worried it would affect her in this race, which was already messing with her head.

Worse, she was facing a tough and fresh opponent from Sweden. For whatever reason, they’d scheduled the distance races much later than the sprints, and this was her first race of the games. She was also the reigning gold medalist, having won this race four years ago.

I could read Kat’s body language as well as anyone, and everything said she was tired. Her shoulders drooped, and she kind of hung her head as she got up on the block.

She went through her pre-race routine, shaking out her arms, almost slapping the opposite shoulder with each, trying to loosen up her tight muscles.

They called out, and each girl took her place, in their ready stance. As the buzzer sounded, Kat got off a good dive. I could recognize it was a little off, but only because I’d seen her do it so many times by this point, and knew it wouldn’t hurt her time.

The race started okay for Kat, as she stayed neck and neck with the Swede and the girl from Japan, who were leading the race. Coming up to the fifty-meter mark, she slowed for a second, the other two girls making the turn right ahead of her, putting her a little behind them.

I think her competitors knew she was tired and were pushing her hard, the speed much faster than Kat normally did the first lap for a race of this length. I wasn’t familiar with the Swede, who was definitely the one setting the pace, but I worried that Kat was falling into a trap instead of swimming her own race. They kept pushing, with Kat struggling to catch up with them.

Finally, at the hundred and fifty-meter mark, she surged, closing the gap just as the Japanese swimmer began to fade, dropping a full body length in under ten meters as she clearly ran out of gas. The other American started to pick up ground, but unless Kat and the Swede slowed down, no one was catching them.

She was fighting hard and neck and neck with the Swede starting the last length of the pool. She couldn’t hold it, though. Between her shoulder, her fatigue, and the pace the Swedish swimmer was maintaining, she started to fade. I could see her pushing hard, and she kept from falling behind too far, but the other girl started to pull ahead as they approached the last twenty-five meters.

When they got to the last few meters, just a few hand spans from the wall, Kat threw everything she left, I think hoping to surprise the defending gold medalist, and it looked, for a second, like she might as she closed the gap that had formed. Their hands hit the wall almost at the same time. I, and everyone else in the stadium, looked up at the scoreboard, trying to see who won. It was like the race at the trials, where Kat had pulled it out in a close finish.

This time, it wasn’t to be, as the scores flashed up on the screen, showing the Swede had defended her gold medal, beating Kat by three-tenths of a second and giving Kat her first silver medal of the games.

Kat was looking up at the board, her expression one of resignation more than disappointment. She had given her everything, and it showed in the way she carried herself out of the pool. As she reached the edge, the gold medalist extended a hand. Kat took it, and they shared a respectful handshake. I knew how competitive she was and knew it stung, but she didn’t have anything to be upset about. She’d dominated women’s swimming this year.

She made her way over to her personal coach, who put her arm around Kat and leaned close, talking to her, probably offering words of encouragement and telling her how good she had done.

As she made her way toward the locker room, I hurried out of the stands, weaving through the crowd to make it to where Kat would come out of the locker room, with Jean and Mana following. Everyone else was still watching, and I think they knew I wanted a minute with just me and Kat.