From the Top - 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.

The crowd was cheering, some for their swimmers to go faster, others for their girls to keep their lead. It ended up just being a din of noise echoing back and forth in the natatorium.

She must have seen the flag signifying that it was their second-to-last lap because suddenly, Kat really started to put on speed. The swimmer in second place was just ahead of her, only a half body length separating them now. She had been swimming for twelve minutes at a pace I couldn’t have maintained for more than one, so I knew she must be exhausted. It never showed as she powered ahead, gaining more ground.

She and the second-place girl made the turn almost simultaneously. She had one length left to go, and Hanna and I were on our feet, screaming like banshees.

“Go Kat go!” I screamed.

“You can do this!” Hanna yelled, just as loudly, beside me.

We were both bouncing up and down in excitement.

Kat and her opponent surged ahead, stroke for stroke, neither one able to pull ahead of the other as they battled for position. At thirty meters to go, Kat started to make some ground, inching ahead of the second-place girl. At twenty meters, she was maybe a hand span ahead. It was clear neither was going to catch the girl in the lead, who was maybe just a hair under half a body length ahead of the two of them.

Second place was what mattered. The first two swimmers got to compete in the Olympics. Third place had to settle for being an alternate. Still an amazing achievement, but Kat hadn’t spent all that time in the pool to end up as an alternate.

At ten meters, the second-place girl put on a last burst of speed, clearly hoping to edge Kat out. Kat matched her, surging forward. They hit the wall at practically the same moment, so close it was impossible for those of us in the stands to see who touched first.

My head snapped toward the scoreboard, holding my breath as I waited for the result to display. And then it was there.

Second place! She was going to swim the fifteen-hundred at the Olympics, too. Hanna and I jumped up and down, shrieking. Down in the water, Kat slumped over the lane divider, sucking in huge gulps of air as she recovered from her massive effort over the past fifteen minutes. She had worked hard, pushing herself to the limit.

The first-place girl was going nuts a few lanes over. She had managed to set a national record, beating both Kat and the now third-place swimmer by almost half a body length. It was only the second record broken at today’s meet and was a testament to how hard they had all swum.

With weary arms, Kat hauled herself out of the pool and trudged over to the benches where her coach waited with towels and bottles of water. As she walked, she looked up in the stands, spotting me and Hanna waving like maniacs. A huge grin spread across her face, and she waved back.

We headed outside to wait for her, like we had the other days after she finished her races. It always took her a little time to wash the chlorine out of her hair and get changed out of her swimsuit. While the suit was designed to help cut down on drag and reduce friction, allowing her just a little more speed in the water, it was also skin-tight and a pain to get in and out of.

After about ten minutes, Kat emerged from the locker room with her hair still damp from the shower, wearing jeans and a hoodie. It was June, but she’d been in a pool all day and had a tendency to get cold faster than most. Maybe because she didn’t have the body fat most of us did to keep her warm, a side effect of all that exercise. Her face lit up when she saw Hanna and me waiting for her.

“You did it!” I said, sweeping her up in a hug and spinning her around. “I told you you would.”

“I know. I can’t believe it,” she said breathlessly when I set her back down.

“We’re so proud of you,” Hanna said, pulling her into another tight hug.

“Thanks, you guys. I couldn’t have done it without your support,” she said, practically beaming.

We headed out of the aquatic complex, starting the now-familiar trip, that we’d been making all week, back to the hotel.

As we stepped outside into the warm Indiana afternoon, I turned to the girls and said, “We should totally go out and celebrate.”

Hanna hesitated, glancing at her phone.

“Oh, um, I’m pretty tired actually. I think I just want to go lay down.”

Kat and I exchanged a look. Ever since I’d caught her on that call, she’d been a little distant and preoccupied, constantly looking at her phone. Part of me wanted to start prying, to find out what was going on and determine if we should be worried. But this wasn’t the day for that. Kat had finished trials, and it was her moment. I wasn’t going to let whatever Hanna was up to ruin that.

“Come on, just for a little while,” I pressed. “It’s just about lunchtime. We can grab something to eat, have Kat give us thrilling details of how it was for her down in the pool, maybe tell us if any of the girls were arguing or whatever.”

Hanna shook her head firmly. “Sorry, but I really just want to go back to the room.”

She’d made her mind up, and it was clear there was nothing I was going to say that would convince her otherwise. Odds were, she wanted to call whoever she’d been talking to all week. I looked at Kat, who just shrugged.

“Sure. No problem. Are you okay if Kat and I go out? You can join us later if you feel more rested,” I said instead.

“Yeah, that’d be okay,” Hanna said, clearly relieved we weren’t going to keep pressuring her.

We dropped Hanna off at the hotel and then headed out to have some fun. It was one of the best days I could remember having in a while. It was to celebrate Kat, of course, but after months of disappointment and heartache, I really needed it too.

We ate lunch, visited a museum and a park, just acting like a couple of idiot kids, and grabbed a late dinner before rolling back into the hotel around midnight. We only had the drive back to Wellsville the next day, and there were three of us to switch off driving, so I wasn’t worried about being up too late. Kat, I think, was even happier now that she was finally off the training regimen and allowed to just do what she wanted to do.

The only downside to the evening was that Hanna never called to meet up with us. Most likely, she’d spent all afternoon on the phone with whoever the mystery guy on the phone was.

“I’m not even a little bit tired,” Kat said as we headed toward the elevators to go up to our rooms.

“Yeah, me either,” I said. “Should we see if Hanna’s awake?”

“I really doubt she is. It’s midnight and she never called us. She’s either on the phone or asleep. If she wanted to spend time with us, she would have called.”

“Yeah,” I said, a little annoyed.

We’d hardly seen Hanna in weeks, and Kat just had a stunning victory. I was glad she came to Indianapolis with us, but I wished she’d actually been with us, not disappearing as soon as Kat finished swimming.

“We could hang out in your room for a bit if you want,” Kat suggested. “Watch a movie or something.”

“Sounds good to me,” I agreed as the elevator arrived.

We rode up to our floor in comfortable silence. I think we both were a little tired but didn’t want the excitement from today to end. Tomorrow, we’d head back to our life and all the problems associated with it. Tonight, we were kind of in our own world, free from all of that.

In my room, Kat claimed the chair by the desk, stretching and putting her feet up on the bed, which I sat down on. Grabbing the TV remote, I started flipping through the channels.

“Ooh, stop!” Kat said when I landed on a channel playing music videos. “I love this song.”

I grinned and set down the remote. An upbeat pop song from Ronnie Ralston filled the room as Kat started to sing along loudly and off-key.

“It’s weird,” she said partway through the song. “Sometimes a song will come on and I’m like, ‘I met them,’ and not in a meet and greet, but for real, backstage.”

We’d met Ronnie briefly at a festival in Nashville about a year ago. It had been a short meeting, but she was right, it hadn’t just been a meet-and-greet thing. We’d had an actual conversation with her. Back when it seemed like my career could only go up.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s like it happened to someone else,” I said, feeling the sudden reality of my failing career hit me.

“I’m sorry,” she said, getting up from the chair and moving over to sit next to me, grabbing my hand. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ve just been pretending like all of the problems were happening to someone else, and reality hit kind of hard. Remembering I’m a failure. We can worry about all that tomorrow.”

“Hey, no. Don’t do that. You’re not failing. Yeah, it’s been a tough month, but you just started trying to get everything going again. You’ve got real talent. People love your music when they get a chance to hear it. You just have to be patient.”

“Thanks, but today should be all about you. You’re going to the Olympics. It’s … I can’t believe it. I’ve always known how good you are, but the Olympics.”

“I owe it all to you,” she said, squeezing my hand. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you, Charlie.”

“That’s nonsense,” I said, shaking my head. “You did this yourself. You spent the time in the pool, training. You did the work.”

“None of which would have mattered two years ago,” she insisted. “I never would have been able to stand up to the pressure and anxiety if it wasn’t for you. You got me out of … everything. Got me help. I’m not even sure I’d still be alive if it wasn’t for you, let alone here, qualifying for the Olympic team. I owe you everything.”

“You did the work yourself there, too. I’ve seen it. But I’m glad I could help. I’m really happy you’re doing so much better with managing everything.”

Suddenly she was leaning toward me, her lips a hair’s width from mine. I flinched back instinctively.

“Whoa, hey, you know we can’t …” I stammered, caught off guard.

Maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised. Kat and I had been through this before. The reasons why we could never be together, at least not like that. Not with her past issues and dependency on me.

“Why not,” she said, looking wounded. “That was true when I was still struggling, just looking for someone else to cling to. But it’s different now.”

“Is it, though?” I asked doubtfully.

“Yes!” Kat insisted, fire in her eyes. “I’m not doing this because I need you to lead me or take control or anything. I’m past that. I’m in control of myself, now; and I’m doing this because …”

She stopped, hesitating, her eyes dropping down to her lap before she looked back up, as determined as she had been at any moment during the competition.

“I love you. I have for a while now.”

I tried to not say anything right away. The situation was complicated. Her condition, my feelings for her, and my responsibilities toward her all mixed together, muddying everything.

“Kat, you’ve made so much progress, and I’m proud of you, I really am. But Dr. Rothstein said …”

“I know what he said!” Kat interjected in frustration. “But he also said I needed to learn to think for myself, start making my own decisions, regardless of what you or anyone else thinks. And I have been. I’m not latching onto you because of my disorder, Charlie. I’m doing this because of who you are. Because of who I am. And because of how I really feel.”

I studied her face. She was so open. So earnest. I wanted to believe her. But if she was wrong, if this was still her dependency issues … I couldn’t take advantage of that.

Kat seemed to read my hesitation and placed her hand gently on my cheek.

“Charlie, do you have feelings for me too?”

She held my gaze, not letting me look away. I battled inside myself. I felt a lot of things, all of them conflicting. But I’d also promised to always be honest with her.

“Yes,” I admitted finally.

The smile on her face was almost electric, lighting up the whole room.

“Then why can’t we try? I know myself, Charlie. I know this is real. Please, just give us a chance.”

My resolve wavered. She seemed so confident, so self-assured. Was I being overprotective, underestimating how far she’d come? Kat was stronger now, she’d shown me that. And now that I’d admitted how I felt out loud, as much to myself as to her, I could feel it in my chest.

Kat scooted closer, leaning her forehead against mine, her fingertips tracing my jaw tenderly. Being this close to her made my heart race wildly. Her lips were just inches from my own, her breath warm on my skin.

Maybe she was right. Maybe we did deserve a chance, to find out if this could be something real. I lifted my hand, brushing a stray strand of hair back from her face, my fingers lingering on her cheek.

Kat tilted her chin up, her nose brushing mine, waiting for me to close the distance between us. She wanted me to make the final decision. I hesitated for a breath, frozen in place.

And then I leaned forward and kissed her.