The warm April weather has stuck around, with the sun shining and trees blooming. Everything’s coming back to life, andthere’s a tiny part of me that feels like that could be true for me too. Maybe this jobwilllead me to my end goal of getting back on the team.
I decide to stop at a local coffee shop on my way home because there’s truly nothing better than an iced coffee that I didn’t make for myself.
My iced brown sugar espresso adds to my oddly good mood, and I practically smile the rest of my way home. I even smile at the security guards and say hello, despite how I usually keep my head down to avoid small talk, because I haven’t been in the mood for it.
In my condo, I take an everything shower, then wrap up in my black silk robe and make a chicken quinoa salad for lunch.
Once I’m done with my lunch, though, uneasiness washes over me. I’ve worked out. I’ve had lunch. The house is clean. I’m caught up on my favorite reality show,Singles in Saint Lucia.It’s three o’clock and my friends aren’t supposed to be here for another two hours.
What the hell do I do with myself?
I could have a dance party, something I used to do once I was done cooking and cleaning, but the idea seems lackluster right now.
The silence is somehow louder than ever, reminding me that I have nothing else to do. As someone who’salwayshad something to do, all of this free time is more stressful than it should be.
And just like that, the good mood I was in fades as boredom replaces it.
I’m excited that my best friends, Kaya and Clara, will be coming over tonight, the first time in months due to everyone’s conflicting schedules. We do our best to get together when we can, and when I told them over the phone what had happened at the qualifiers meet a week ago, they made it work to both be here today.
I have two hours before they get here, but until then, I’ll be rotting away on my phone. It’s been my hyperfixation lately, going through my tagged posts from fans and reading comments.
So, just like every other day since I “retired,” I turn my speaker on, hit play on my playlist, and lie on the couch, scrolling.
In my roaming of social media, I click on Coach Samuels’s page. I know I shouldn’t, but I’ve been checking it daily to see what I’m missing out on. There’s a new post, a group shot of the girls at the training facility, the familiar faces smiling back at me.
If I hadn’t been let go, I would be in that photo. I would be training with them.
A loud knock interrupts me before I throw my phone across the room.
I push my irritation to the back of my mind the best that I can and jump off the couch. I skitter across the hardwood floors, making my way to the door, and swing it open.
I don’t even have time to say hi or let them in as they both tackle me into a hug.
“We’ve missed you,” they exclaim, squeezing me tightly.
When we pull apart, Clara immediately senses that something’s up.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I’m fine.” I try to play it off, but I must not be convincing enough because they both look at me like I’m full of shit.
Kaya pins me with a look. “Bullshit,” she deadpans.
“That fucking prick of a coach posted a photo of the team on his page. It reminded me how I should be there, training for the Olympics. And I don’t need a lecture on how I shouldn’t be stalking the team’s page ’cause it’ll only upset me. I know this already. I just can’t help it.” I sigh, battling a mix of anger and helplessness. Anger because this is all wrong, and helplessness because there’s nothing I can do to fix it sooner than I’d like.
“I’m so sorry, Teags.” Clara squeezes my shoulder reassuringly. “He’s an asshole, and you don’t deserve to be going through what you are. I understand why you’re determined to go back, though.”
“What Clara said, but also, you really should stop checking his page. That scum of a human did you wrong, and while the goal is to get back on the team, checking to see what you’re missing serves you no value. So, do what does gives you value, which is kicking ass at this new job you’re starting and proving to them why they should take you back,” Kaya says, her voice fierce and motivating.
“Ugh, you’re right. I’m sorry. I just… I don’t know. It’s so hard to let go of, you know?” I reply, my voice rising as frustration takes over.
“You’re allowed to feel angry, sad, all of it. Because I would be too. It’s fucked up and not fair to you. But they’re not going to win. You’re going to get back on the team and crush it at the Olympics next year,” Clara says, removing her hand from my shoulder as she raises it in the air triumphantly.
“Hell yeah, you are, and we’re going to be there to enjoy every second of it,” Kaya assures me.
“Exactly,” Clara confirms, smiling brightly.
“But in the meantime, I’ll slash his tires if you want me to,” Kaya says, making all three of us laugh.
