Chapter 22

“What a sad, sad piece of shit. New world record holder and can’t even get a celebratory throw down,” came a voice from behind me. “Will things never change?”

“Apparently not. I’m still winning championships and you’re still running bullshit off the mouth.”

“Well,” said Derek, coming around and putting his own drink down on the table in front of me, “at least we’re consistent. You have to give us that. Long-time no see, you world record motherfucker.” I stood up and gave my high school buddy a back slapping man hug.

“Careful, dude. Not too long,” I said. “I don’t want any of these ladies thinking I was waiting for my boyfriend to show up to celebrate with a sausage party.”

“What ladies? There’s nobody here but the bar staff. And they’re like, forty.”

“Yeah, naughty forty. And I tip well.” I caught the eye of the nearest bartender and pointed to my empty glass. She nodded. “Shit, Derek. What’s it been? Two years?”

“Three and change, but who’s counting?”

My drink came.

“A double, for last call,” the bartender said. “Congratulations again. And thanks for the tips tonight.”

I raised my glass to her. “No, thank you.” To Derek I said, “Last call. You want anything? I’m buying.”

“Nah, man. Driving. All good. Thanks though.”

The bartender nodded and headed back to the bar.

“Well, after this the libations come to an end and I will be back on the wagon until I’m on the podium again,” I said. I took a drink and put my glass down. “So, what brings you here? I heard you were interning at some community access cable channel.”

“ESPN isn’t community access. And not interning. Senior aquatics correspondent.”

“That’s a thing?”

Derek nodded.

“Nobody else gets it. Swimming, diving, water polo. It’s what I get for being good enough to have the skills and the experience, but not being good enough to compete against you,” he joked.

“Sorry for being amazing,” I shrugged.

“It’s all good. I don’t miss the early morning starts, and I can eat whatever I want. Plus, I get to jet around and catch up with all the gossip on everyone.”

“Yeah, I know how you like all the sordid details. Like you said, nothing’s changed since high school.”

“Nah, it’s nice to know what’s going on with everyone. Like, for example, your pocket rocket girlfriend isn’t going to be meeting you in Hamburg.”

“I’m sure I don’t know who you are talking about,” I said innocently.

“How many Olympic diving hopefuls were you boning, man? Rachel didn’t make it out of finals. Her timing was a bit off in the qualifier, but she was still in with a chance. Just couldn’t shake it during the finals.”

“Shame for her. Still, anyone can have a bad day.”

“True,” Derek said, sipping his drink. “Although the back story is that she apparently had a fantastic night before, which is why she was a bit off on the day. If you get my meaning.”

“Uh–”

“She had a fantastic night. Courtesy of Christoph Loukanis, who apparently deep dicked her hard enough that she pulled a muscle. While she was pulling on his ‘muscle’, I’m guessing. With her–”

“Okay, that’s a little more graphic than I needed. God.” I took a drink. “It wasn’t an exclusive thing anyway.”

“Oh, that’s good then. You’ll be available in Hamburg.”

“Uh, you understand that not being exclusive means that I was already available?”

“Oh no. You’ll be available to catch up with an old flame.”

I looked at him with narrowed eyes, daring him to say it. He innocently stirred his drink with the straw.

“Did you know that one British-Japanese by the name of Nao McRae officially renounced her Japanese citizenship three months ago so she can compete for England in Hamburg?” he asked, conversationally.

“No,” I said slowly. “It’s not like I keep tabs on her. I don’t really pay attention to the competition.”