“No. I don’t know what to say. Not the faintest idea. I should say something, though, right? It feels mean to just say nothing. Don’t you think?”
“I guess so. At least you’re telling me about it this time and not clamming up like you used to do! Can’t believe I didn’t even know you were gay back then. Hey, do you know if she has a boyfriend yet?”
“I don’t know anything about her. I know she’s separated from Mr. Golden Boy because they mentioned it when I saw her on TV. But that’s all I know.”
“Haven’t you tried to find out online? I mean, isn’t that the best thing about her being famous like you are? You can just look it up.”
“No, I haven’t. I don’t want to be a creep.”
Looking at images on the Internet was one thing, but she planned to stay away from trying to learn Angie’s relationship status. She’d found out about her ex by accident and she didn’t need to know more. Hannah certainly didn’t want Marie to find out that she’d been looking at Angie’s photos.
“Okay, suit yourself. But I would if I were you,” Marie said. She chewed, staring off into space.
Hannah leaned over and flicked Marie’s forehead. “What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing. It’s just if you think about it, Scott was a jerk when we were teenagers, and I know I complain about him now, but of course, he’s a good guy. Maybe she’s not so bad? People can change a lot when they’re growing up. Maybe she doesn’t know what to say?”
Hannah shrugged. “Maybe.”
They finished the nachos, then spread out on the sofa to watch a double episode of Law and Order. Marie chattered loudly throughout, identifying red herrings and the actual murderer as soon as she saw him. It was annoying, but at least it meant Hannah could be distracted from composing an email in her head.
After Scott picked up Marie, Hannah wiped down the table and took the empty beer bottles out to recycle. While she washed and dried her hands, she tried to convince herself to go to bed.
She stood in front of the computer for a moment, then pressed the space bar to wake it up. If she didn’t reply now, she’d think about it all night.
There was another email from Angie.
Hey, sorry if I upset you before. I mean, maybe you haven’t read it yet but sorry anyway. I know you’re busy. I don’t mean to be annoying. Just forget I said anything if you think that’s best.
She balled up her hands then stretched her fingers out over the keyboard. It was kind of shitty to make Angie wait all day for a reply.
Hey Angie,
It’s okay. Just needed time to think today. I don’t know if angry is the right word for it. It’s kind of weird seeing one another again after all this time.
You’re right. I don’t know how to act. I’m not quite sure what to say either. We were so young. When I looked at Rachel Willis at the trials, I realized she was about the same age as we were back then. And not to patronize her, but she’s a baby! It would be silly of me to hold any of what happened against you. I’m sure we’ve both changed a lot.
I’m happy to start over with a clean slate if you are. I don’t like the thought of you feeling bad over things that are so far back in the past.
I’m happy to chat with you again and get to know one another as adults. We’re going to see one another around anyway, and I don’t want it to be unpleasant.
Hannah
She hit the send button before she could obsess over what she’d written. There was no reason to think anymore about it. It was a lifetime ago, and they were different people now.
She had to stop holding on to the past if she ever wanted to move forward.
Chapter Eight
1987 - Melbourne
Hannah seized the phone on the first ring before anyone else could. The whole family knew she was expecting to hear from Angie for her birthday, and she couldn’t take any chances. Ethan and Mark loved intercepting her calls on the extension near the living room.
Getting a private line in her bedroom had taken extensive lobbying. Paul and Viv were fanatical about not letting her chip into her earnings. They deposited every cent into an account that she could only touch on her twenty-first birthday.
She vacuumed, swept and mopped to earn her hamburger-shaped phone. It was just like one she’d seen on TV, the numbers set on a slice of yellow cheese. When she opened the bun and put it to her ear, two beeps confirmed it was a long-distance call. She was beaming before she heard Angie’s voice.
“Happy birthday, sweet sixteen!”
“Thanks!”
“Tell me all about what you’re doing today. I want to hear all about it. I wish I were there with you so bad. I miss you so much, on special days more than ever. What kind of cake are you having?”
“I’m hanging out with Debbie and Marie tonight, and I asked Viv if I could have an ice-cream cake.”
“Sounds fun. Will you say hi to Debbie and Marie for me? Did you get the package I sent you?”
“I did, thank you so much! I love the bracelet.”
“You do? I know you don’t wear much jewelry, but I thought you’d like it. I knew it would suit you.”
“Of course, I do,” Hannah said, raising her wrist over her face to look at it again. The small blue stone centered on a thin band was just right for her. “I love silver. I’ll wear it every day. I should have said that first, sorry. Why do I get all tongue-tied on these calls?”
“Because we never get to talk? I’ve been nervous all day about calling! Nervous all week, but a good kind of nervous. So, don’t worry about anything. I’m just glad you like the bracelet. I like thinking about you wearing it. I always wear your watch. I’m looking at it right now! Are you sure the bracelet is okay? Because if you didn’t like it, I’d want to get you something else. Don’t worry about hurting my feelings. It’s more important to me that you like it.”
“I really, really like it. I promise.”
“I’m glad. I loved picking it out. So…How are you doing with training? Not so long until the trials for Seoul. I’m so nervous about it. Freaking. Out. Are you nervous?”
“Kind of. Tim’s happy with how I’m doing, for once,” Hannah said, her mouth twisting around her coach’s name.
The day before they’d been working on the angle of her hands as they hit the water, and she was proud of how well she’d taken his feedback. But when he complimented her, it sounded sarcastic, like he was insulting her for not getting it right sooner.
“So, you think you’ll definitely make it in then? Like, your times are that good?”
“I don’t know. Probably.”
Everyone seemed to think so. The Sunday Courier last weekend had a front-page photo spread with Hannah’s face in the middle, sandwiched between other Australian swimmers. When she saw a copy of it on the kitchen counter, she flipped it over.
It was weird to walk through the supermarket with her mother now too. On their way to the checkout, they passed racks of women’s magazines with her face plastered across the covers.
She spiraled the phone cord around her finger, wondering if she should talk to Angie about how she was feeling. A few nights ago, she rose to get a glass of water and paused outside of the kitchen. Paul often had a glass of scotch before bed, to wind down when he was working the late shift. Her mother was out there too.
Hannah heard her name and hovered, gathering up pieces of the conversation.
“I don’t know; I feel like they’re starting to sexualize her. She’s not even sixteen yet! Did you see how much makeup they put on her at that photo shoot? She’s a swimmer, not a fashion model. I don’t want her to start getting self-conscious. She’s already always hunching because of her height. And she’s not the kind of kid who even enjoys it, not that I wouldn’t still be worried if she did. Do you know what I mean?”
It was easier to hear Paul’s deep voice. “I don’t think we have to worry too much about her, honey. We can’t control what the world does, but she’s such a sensible kid. It’
s normal for girls her age to get a bit worried about their bodies. Isn’t it?”
When Viv answered, her voice was quieter, and Hannah couldn’t make it out. She went back to her room without her drink, her mouth dry.
It was silent on the other end of the line, and she realized that she hadn’t spoken for a while. “What about you, how are you tracking with getting there?”
“Well, I have to get there! Not going is just not an option.”
“Remember how we talked about how putting too much pressure on yourself is bad? It’s okay if you don’t win,” she said gently.
Before, she’d envied Angie for her parents, who poured everything into Angie’s swimming career. Angie’s mother was practically her full-time driver, ferrying Angie to her training sessions and staying to cheer her on. It took time for Hannah to understand that the support came with a hefty price tag.
“I’m not putting pressure on myself to win! It’s not that at all. If I don’t get there. I don’t get to see you. That’s what I really care about.”
“Oh.”
Hannah looked toward her door, raising the phone closer to her mouth. “I want to see you too. I love your letters, but…”
“I know. It’s not the same. I keep thinking, one day when we’re older, imagine if we lived in the same place? How awesome would that be? Whether you moved over here to Austin, or I moved over there…I don’t care which way it is. Maybe we could even do both someday, like, go back and forth together. Don’t you think that would be awesome?”
“It would be. It would be really, super awesome.”
They each fell quiet, and she stared at the collage on her wall. There were photos of the two of them from that night after Luna Park, arm-in-arm. Taped up next to them were press clippings Angie had cut from magazines to send to her. Bordering the photos were pictures from magazines of Rob Lowe and Emilio Estevez. Hannah put them there to throw her brothers off the scent.
She listened to Angie’s breathing, picturing a cord traveling for miles and miles under the ocean to link them together.
If she could swim there, she would.
On the morning of the trials for the Olympics, Hannah stood in her room, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
She had prepared as well as she could for this day, and now there was nothing she could do but swim. She kissed her palm and pressed it to Angie’s face.
Even at the World Championships, she had never seen anything like the size of this crowd. When she turned to wave at the audience, she gained strength from the fact that her parents were there with Mark and Ethan.
The swimming federation gave her tickets to invite as many people as she wanted, so Marie and Debbie were here too. It was a school day; they were almost as excited to have the day off as they were to see her swim.
There were a lot of reasons to win, and Angie was the most important one. She could imagine her standing close to her block, encouraging her like she did when they were training. They were in this together now.
This race would be dedicated to her. To her girlfriend.
Hannah exploded into the water, unstoppable.
That night she sat down at her desk. It was too late in Austin to call Angie now, but she wanted to run a letter down to the post box as soon as she could. Angie would check the news to find out if Hannah qualified, but it wasn’t a sure thing for the American media to feature Australian swimmers.
I’ve made it! I mean, I hope I get into more events and I’ll write to you again to let you know if I have. But now I know that it’s really happening for sure. I can’t believe it! A thousand times good luck with yours next week. Let’s make sure that we get the chance to talk on the phone again when you qualify. That’s right, I said WHEN because I know that you will.
* * *
A couple of weeks later Hannah and Angie compared notes on the phone. They talked about their post-trial press conferences and swapped borrowed stories about the Olympics from teammates who’d already been there.
The two of them had qualified for the two hundred- and four hundred-meter freestyle events. Hannah was also going to be part of the team for the two hundred-meter freestyle relay.
“I heard the Olympic village is amazing! The food is going to be so good. Let’s make sure we get to spend every meal together. I don’t care if I don’t get to spend any time with my team at all, if you want to know the truth. I just want to hang out with you,” Angie said.
“Me too. Hey, thanks again for the mixtape you sent me. I listen to it like, all the time.”
“You do? I was worried you wouldn’t like it. I know my taste isn’t as cool as yours.”
“Don’t be silly! I love it.”
“Good. ’Cos I’m working on another one for you right now. I’ve been taping songs off the radio, every time I get the chance. Hey listen, I should wrap it up. But I’ll write you another letter tomorrow, okay? I promise.”
“You got it. Miss you,” Hannah said. She held the receiver long after the click sounded.
* * *
Hannah’s training regime intensified as the Olympics approached. Tim pushed her further than ever before, pacing up and down the side of the pool with his stopwatch in hand. In his early thirties now, he’d once been a champion swimmer, known for being stubborn in the pool. He was heavy for a swimmer, but he’d never let it slow him down.
She struggled to recall what he looked like when he smiled; it was so rare. He frowned down at his stopwatch while his lips worked soundlessly. She preferred that he spoke to himself if it meant he left her alone for a while.
Still, she had to admit that with his help, her times were good. He’d instructed her to swim slow laps while they worked on tightening up her stroke, and now he was finally letting her swim at a natural pace. For four hours each day, she was in the pool, barely leaving enough time to keep up with her homework and write to Angie.
The schedule was so crazy that it was a couple of days before she noticed that the letter Angie promised her hadn’t come. Angie wrote like she talked and sent multi-page letters no matter what was going on. Sometimes she wrote under the covers, holding a flashlight over the page.
The weekend arrived, and Hannah still hadn’t heard anything. It wasn’t like Angie, but she must be confused. She must have forgotten that it was her turn.
Dear Angie,
How are you? You forgot my letter! But I’ll forgive you, haha. I bet you’re so busy. I am too. Training has been crazy. All I dream about is swimming, going back and forth in the pool all day long. Sometimes you visit me in my dreams, though, so that’s nice. Thanks for stopping by.
Things are okay at school. Home has been a bit of a war zone. Mark got into a fight at school, punched some guy and got sent to H7. That’s where they send the naughty kids, and he’s the first one in our family to get sent there. So Viv and Paul were both really mad. He got grounded and now Ethan won’t stop complaining because they usually go out together so much.
Have you been watching that show Full House? I think it’s a bit cheesy, but Paul thinks it’s hilarious.
Love, Hannah xo
Another two weeks passed. It could take a while for the post to arrive all the way from America, but to get nothing by now was scary. It was a hole in the pit of Hannah’s stomach, keeping her awake at night and robbing her of focus in the water.
On Friday afternoon, Viv picked her up from practice. Hannah looked hopefully at Viv, still leaning across the seat, opening the door to let her in with her armload of gear.
“I’m sorry honey, nothing came today.”
She got into the car and pulled the door shut heavily, leaning her elbow against the window. Now the mail wouldn’t come again until Monday. What if Angie was hurt or sick? She had told her folks Angie was her best friend, but she wasn’t sure what Angie told her parents. There was no way of knowing if Hannah was significant enough to be notified if something went wrong.
Viv lightly touched her hair. Still staring out the window, she brushe
d it away.
“Hannah…”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I know you two are close, but she’s training just like you are.”
“She was always training! But she found time before.”
“Darling, she’s all the way over in another country. You don’t know what’s going on. It could be anything. It might have gotten lost in the post, or she’s busy, or she…I don’t know, got a boyfriend or something. Or got a new best friend. I hate to say it Hannah, but girls your age are not always the most reliable people.”
“You don’t get it! Something’s wrong,” she said, fighting tears.
“Hannah, if you’re going to be this worried…You’re under a lot of stress right now. If there’s something you can do to make it better, do it. Call her.”
“I thought I might. This weekend. It’ll be okay to call in the morning, I’ll try to call her then.”
“Okay. I think that’s a good idea.”
The plan made her feel a little better. She put her arm outside, waving it in the air, hoping she could make this dread disappear in the morning.
Chapter Nine
2000 - Melbourne
Hannah pushed her shoulders back, forcing herself out of her natural slouch. The building extended as far into the sky as she could see from down here, the mirrored windows reflecting the city onto itself.
Somewhere inside this skyscraper, there was a photographer and a journalist waiting to drain her like the vampires they were. Throughout her career, Hannah had met decent writers who cared about their craft, but none of them published in Ladies Weekly.
The fact that Angie was going to be there added to her nerves. They hadn’t emailed one another again, and their last exchange hadn’t done much to clear the air.
After pushing through the revolving door, she walked up to a counter by the entrance. A receptionist with platinum blond hair barely looked at her, pointing toward the elevator using the hand that wasn’t holding the phone.
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