Running Deep

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Running Deep Page 9

by Bette Hawkins


  Angie didn’t hesitate. She spread her hands out underneath Hannah’s thighs, holding her up.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I think you know. Do you want me to stop?” Angie asked, staying back watchfully.

  When Hannah shook her head, Angie grasped her legs more firmly and leaned in, pausing with her forehead on Hannah’s. Her stomach dropped. It was so different to experience this attraction as an adult, with her sexuality in full bloom.

  She rested her palms on Angie’s back. She glanced down between their bodies at Angie’s almost bare breasts, then up again to the heat in her stare.

  Angie captured her lips, mouth slick.

  At first, Hannah barely kissed her back, too stunned to relax into it. But Angie’s lips were so sweet as she pressed Hannah back against the pool’s wall, bra-clad chest pressing into her. It made her open her mouth, kissing back hungrily.

  She became untethered from any thought but that they were made to do this. They should do this. Angie lightly sucked on her lower lip and then slipped her tongue into Hannah’s mouth.

  Hannah reached down to Angie’s ass, grabbing it to fit her more neatly against her. She clutched then moved forward, stepping off the wall. When she took control, Angie sighed against her, encircling her arms around Hannah’s neck.

  They sank into the water together, kissing with Angie’s legs wrapped tightly around Hannah. Hannah’s hands were on Angie’s waist, thumbs stroking against soft skin. Angie’s tongue was teasingly light in her mouth and on her lip.

  She had always remembered Angie as being a good kisser, though there hadn’t been much to compare it to back then. But this, this was devastatingly good.

  Angie shifted back, tracing a finger over her jaw. She clenched it, trying for control.

  “When are you going to ask me?”

  “Ask you what?” Hannah pressed a light kiss to Angie’s neck. Angie angled her head to expose her throat, and she kissed her there again. She flicked her tongue over the skin, tasting water. Angie sighed, tilting her body closer to Hannah.

  “Hannah…Don’t you want to know what happened? Why we…Why things stopped?”

  Hannah stilled. “I figure you got cold feet. We were teenagers. You were experimenting, and you decided you didn’t like it anymore. Am I getting warm?”

  “That’s what you think?” Angie said, frowning down at Hannah’s chest absently.

  “I don’t know. I don’t think anything. You didn’t really give me much to go on.”

  The hold around Hannah’s waist loosened, Angie’s legs going slack.

  Hannah needed this conversation to end. She was afraid of what Angie might tell her. It was so much easier not to think about it and focus on the way they were now. They were like the fuse on a stick of dynamite. What she wanted to do was go with Angie up to her room, kiss the water from Angie’s body, and lie beneath her.

  “Sorry, but I’m not sure why we’re having this conversation now, of all times,” Hannah said.

  Angie drew away entirely, then ran her hands over Hannah’s shoulders.

  “I think I should go up to my room. You can leave the towel down here if you want.”

  “Angie, sorry if I…”

  “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. Any of that,” Angie said, giving Hannah one last sad-eyed look before she swam away, pulling herself out of the water. “I just need to go. Goodnight. Thanks for inviting me to dinner.”

  Leaving wet footprints in her wake, Angie quietly opened and closed the gate. With hunched shoulders, she walked toward the hotel entrance. Hannah got out of the pool and hurriedly dried off, arranging the wet towel over the fence. When she put her clothes back on, she winced at the way it felt to have them over her damp underwear.

  It wasn’t as hard as she’d feared to get a cab. In the dark, the driver didn’t notice her wet clothes.

  At home in bed, Angie’s words bounced around in her mind so that she couldn’t sleep. An hour passed while she replayed the evening behind closed eyes.

  Why had Angie kissed her like that? Was she even into women, or did she just enjoy how much Hannah had always wanted her? There had been no clues about Angie’s intentions throughout their conversation over dinner. Angie hadn’t said much about why she and Trent were divorced, or whether she’d dated men, women or both afterward.

  Finally, she got up and padded out to her computer. Her still-wet hair clung to her skin as she stared at the screen, and then she began to type.

  Okay, so tell me. What happened, Angie? Why did you go?

  Chapter Twelve

  1987 - Melbourne

  Hannah’s knuckles were white from her grip on the phone, her palm sweating. The ringing tone was unceasing. On the other end, she pictured it screaming for attention, echoing through an empty house.

  What if something terrible had happened to Angie? It was strange for her to find herself wishing that Angie was sick, that she was only spending a little time in the hospital.

  Kids their age didn’t die, or at least not very often. Still, it happened. There was a girl from school when Hannah was ten years old. One day their teacher stood in front of the class, stiff and stumbling over his words, to announce the girl was killed alongside her father. They lost control of their van on a highway in the Yarra Valley. Hannah had nightmares for weeks, had gone to her mother’s room every night crying. What if this was something like that?

  She dialed again, then once more.

  “Hello?”

  “Hel-hello?” Hannah said. Even with her spiraling negative thoughts, she’d somehow been sure Angie would answer eventually. It must be her mother.

  “Who is this?” The voice was concerned, but normal enough. If your only child had died, maybe you wouldn’t even be able to answer the phone.

  “I’m sorry. This is Hannah. I’m a friend of Angie’s. Is she at home?”

  There was no sound, then a muffled quality as though Angie’s mother was covering the receiver with her hand.

  “Hello? Are you there?”

  “Yes. I’m here, Hannah,” she said in a clipped tone. “Listen, Angie can’t talk to you. She needs to focus on her training right now.”

  “I know but…”

  She rested a hand against the wall, putting all her weight on it.

  The voice softened. “I’m going to ask you to not call here again, okay? My daughter doesn’t want to speak to you. Do you understand me? Do you understand what I’m saying to you right now?”

  Hannah dropped the receiver. Then she picked it up, closing the hamburger bun gently. Gazing around the room blankly, her eyes came to rest on the photos of Angie. Were those smiles in the pictures fake? Why didn’t she want to talk to her?

  That night Hannah stared into the dark, listening to one of Angie’s mixtapes. First, there was dead air, then the Joy Division song, the backdrop of their first kiss. They each put that song at the beginning of every carefully curated playlist. After that, there were artists that she’d never much cared for until she met Angie. Angie loved The Bangles, Whitney Houston and Madonna, but they both liked Heart and Prince.

  There was nobody she could talk to. She’d almost confided in Marie a thousand times, but she always pulled back at the last moment, terrified that she wouldn’t understand. She rolled to the edge of the bed and grasped the shoebox from underneath her, excavating letters by upending it and tapping on the bottom.

  After clicking on her lamp, she tugged paper from envelopes until she found the most recent notes. In the top left corner, Angie dated each one.

  She spread the papers across her mattress, smoothing them with her palm. Angie’s perky tone was a constant, promises and dreams laid out in the brightly colored ink of gel pens. Something must have happened to make it all change.

  Viv must be right. Angie had met someone else and was too scared to tell her. It was probably a boy. The thought was gut-wrenching but still not as bad as the idea that she might lose her altogether. When even her closes
t friends didn’t know that she liked girls, who else could she talk to about all that stuff?

  She rushed to her desk drawer and grabbed the writing paper she reserved for Angie. The pages had a faint floral pattern along the edges, with matching envelopes.

  Hey Angie,

  I’m not sure what’s going on with you. I don’t know why you wouldn’t talk to me on the phone. You’ve never done anything like that before, and I haven’t heard from you for weeks.

  I would just really appreciate it if you’d tell me what’s up. If you want things to be different and just be friends, that’s okay with me. I won’t be mad and I’ll understand. I’d still want to talk and hang out next time I see you. Our friendship is important no matter what.

  Hannah

  As soon as she dropped the letter in the mailbox, Hannah knew there would be no reply. If Angie were going to say anything to her, she would have done it by now. Still, wallowing was not an option. Every morning Hannah wished she could cocoon the blanket over her head and hide, but there was no stopping any of it. All the people in her life were so excited for her. There were too many of them to disappoint if she failed.

  Three weeks passed, Angie’s absence was final and total. Hannah had stopped asking her mother about the mail, unable to bear the way Viv looked at her when she did. Today Hannah gazed out of the car window, not saying anything beyond a mumbled greeting.

  Her times were good today; she’d bounced back lately. No matter how low her mood was, it didn’t impact her performance. Tim wound her up and propelled her through the water like she was a doll or a robot.

  “Hannah? Did you hear me?”

  “No, what?”

  They were stopped at a traffic light, giving Viv time to stare at her. Two deep creases showed between her eyebrows.

  “I have some news…”

  She swiveled so that her seatbelt cut into her. A car horn made them jump. The light was green, and the car lurched forward.

  “Well honey, we’ve been planning something for a while, but I didn’t want to tell you until we knew for sure. We’ve been saving, and we got a decent tax return this year. I’m going to come to Seoul!”

  “Oh my god, really? No way!” Hannah said. Not thinking it was even a remote possibility, she’d been careful not to express the wish that her mother should be there.

  Viv smacked her hands against the steering wheel. “Can you imagine? I’ve never even been overseas before! You know, the girls at work even took up a collection to help out?”

  The road in front of them grew watery. Hannah wiped her face on her sleeve. Taking one hand off the wheel, Viv reached over and ruffled her hair. “I know how homesick you get, kiddo. I’ll be right there this time. I’m so proud of you, and I can’t wait to watch you do your thing.”

  “Thanks, Viv. I’m so glad you’re coming.”

  “Well, I know I won’t get to see a lot of you, but I’ll get to see you in your big races, and that’s what counts. You’ll know I’m there.”

  “Exactly. Can I sit with you on the plane?”

  “You don’t want to sit with your team?”

  “No, I want to sit next to you.”

  Every time Hannah thought about the Games, a knot tied itself in her stomach. She pictured Angie freezing her out, or worse, saying why she’d stopped liking her. Though she wanted to know, she couldn’t bear the idea of hearing Angie say she didn’t like girls.

  At least maybe the dreams would stop afterward. In a recurring nightmare Hannah dove for coins in the bottom of a murky pool, aware that Angie was there and trying to grab the same prizes. It was never-ending, silver and bronze circles reappearing when she’d cleared them all. In the morning, loss and dread clung to her.

  “Hannah, can I ask you something?”

  She figured out a while ago that Viv’s career as a social worker taught her certain tricks, like asking for permission every time she was going to say something upsetting.

  “What is it, Mom?” she asked, her happiness about Viv coming to the Games disappearing. She scowled out the window.

  “Don’t ‘Mom’ me. I just want to know…You haven’t mentioned your friend in a few weeks. I’ve noticed you don’t write to one another at all anymore. Can’t remember the last time you asked me to post a letter. What’s that all about? Did you girls have a fight?”

  She shrugged. “Don’t know.”

  “Well, it’s a stressful time, and things can change quickly…”

  “When you’re my age? I know. You said all that already.”

  “I’m just telling you, love, I know it’s upsetting when things change, but a fair-weather friend is no friend at all. You’ll know a lot of people in your life, and trust me, only a handful of them will be keepers.”

  She hated being lectured. “Listen, not many people understand what all of this is like! Don’t you get it? I love Marie and Debbie, but it’s not like either of them are going to the Games.”

  “I know. You and Angie had a special bond, I could see that. But nobody really knows what it’s like for other people, that’s what empathy is for. Remember that talk we had about empathy?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I remember, you say that like we only ever had one.”

  “You can talk to your friends about it, and you can talk to me. We don’t know what it’s like, but we can still support you. Marie and Debbie are great friends. They’re the type of people who’ll be in your life for the long haul. They’ll be like what Claire is for me.”

  “Oh so, when we’re in our forties and fifties, we’re going to hang out drinking red wine and complaining about our jobs?”

  “If you’re lucky, yes. So now that we’re talking about it, tell me. Do you feel strange about racing this girl you were so close to?”

  She bit her thumbnail. “To tell you the truth, I do feel a bit strange about it. I always beat Angie. She’s a good sport about it, but I don’t know. I always got the feeling that deep down it bothered her.”

  Viv drove on for another minute or two. She pulled abruptly off the main street, then rounded a corner. The car stopped. Undoing her seat belt, Viv twisted her body so that they were facing one another.

  She looked so serious. Had she figured out the truth about Angie?

  “Okay, I want you to promise me something. You’re always worrying about other people, not wanting to do the wrong thing. It’s okay to put yourself first for once,” Viv said.

  She opened and closed the buckle of her seat belt. “What do you think I’m going to do, throw the race or something? Quit worrying. It’ll be fine.”

  She could never tell Viv how much she’d thought about it. When Angie was visiting, it was easy to clock where she was in the water and lag, just a little. She was careful not to make Angie suspicious, but she did it just enough to level the playing field. The temptation to control the outcome was greater now that Angie wasn’t talking to her. If she let Angie win, would it increase the chances of Angie liking her again?

  Viv frowned at her, resting her head back against the seat. “You’ve worked so hard for this. Just promise me you’ll try to tune everything out and do your best. I’ll be proud of you whether you win or not, but you’re going to remember that day for the rest of your life.”

  When she didn’t answer right away, Viv took her by the shoulders as she waited for an answer.

  Hannah nodded back to her, swallowing hard. “Okay. I hear you.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  1988 Olympic Games - Seoul

  Not many sixteen year olds had traveled as much as she had, but Hannah was ignorant about the world and the places she’d been. When she was inside the walls of stadiums and sports villages, she could be anywhere.

  On the way to the Olympic Village she and Viv went directly from the airport to the accommodation, only viewing the streets of Seoul from the window of a taxi. The village was a universe unto itself; everything about it impressive. The gates stood inside a large stone sculpture, spotless paved mini-
streets leading away from it. Flags of every color fluttered in the wind from atop tall white poles.

  She had her own room, stark white with a comfortable mattress and a bathroom she shared with Miranda Tildora. They were on the relay team together, and Hannah found the older girl intimidating. With her big brown eyes, Miranda reminded her of Whitney Houston.

  When they passed in the hall, Miranda slapped her with limp high-fives. Sometimes she said, “Go Dolphins” in a tone that could be genuine or could be naked sarcasm, Hannah had no idea.

  There was no competition for the first week. Though most of the athletes were gathered in Seoul, this time was carved out for them to move through the jetlag. Hannah spent her days warming up and priming herself to perform. And of course, she was preparing to see Angie.

  She spent time with her mother when she could. Viv breathlessly filled her in about the sights, talking about the fantastic sliced beef and stew she’d eaten. She’d filled countless rolls of film with Buddhist temples and picturesque mountains. Hannah was already dreading the slideshows that might happen when they got home, but Viv’s excitement lifted her spirits. Even if she didn’t win a medal, her mom would be taking happy memories with her.

  On the fourth morning at breakfast, Hannah left the counter with her tray. She stopped when someone crashed into her path. First, she saw Tony’s white sneakers, then the oversize yellow basketball shorts that came down past his knees. His face and shoulders were reddened, sunburn standing out against his pale, freckled skin.

  In the dining hall, Hannah always walked around with her headphones shielding her like armor. Casting her gaze downward, she pretended that if she couldn’t see anyone, then they couldn’t see her either.

  She tried to walk around him so she could get back to hiding, but he wouldn’t get out of the way. She pushed his chest, which was like trying to move a brick wall. Over the last two years, they’d developed something between friendship and rivalry. He was one of the country’s top male swimmers, and she was one of the top females. They were always at the same events, but they were never going to be close.

 

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