The sun was easing down the horizon as I stood outside of Dasha’s apartment. I took out my phone to call on a Uber car but after a moment of standing there in that warm dusky evening, I decided that it would be a much better thing to just walk home. It would give me time to think, to clear my mind, to come to terms with this negativity and figure out what was next for me. I had certainly dealt with worse than this. I knew I could get through it. But I wanted to have it all, I wanted the win and the love. There had to be a way to beat Amber, have my love with Dasha, win the Gold, and finally come out on top.
I wasn’t messing around anymore. Marie Mullally was a winner.
The next day at the natatorium I was called into Mitch’s office to have a talk with him. I knew that the subject matter would most surely involved my relationship with Dasha but I didn’t know if I was going in to be reprimanded because of something Amber had spilled or for some other reason all together. I didn’t feel up to fighting any kind of decisions Mitch might hand down. Instead I was trying to focus all of my energy on training and beating Amber.
Knocking on the half-open door, I cautiously peeked into Mitch’s office.
“Hello?” I said softly. “It’s Marie Mullally.”
“Marie?” I heard Mitch say. “Come on in.”
I pushed the door open and saw Mitch sitting at his desk. He had some paperwork out in front of him that he was going through. As I entered, he closed a file folder and looked up to me over his glasses. His face was wrinkled and although his demeanor portrayed a grizzled soul, there was also something quite warm about him. Like a kind grandfather.
“Sit down, sit down,” said Mitch, motioning to the seat in front of his desk. With slow motions, I followed his direction and sat across from him.
“You wanted to see me?” I asked meekly.
“Right,” he affirmed. “It’s come to my attention that there’s some sort of drama happening with the women’s team.”
“I’m not sure I know,” I said, attempting to sidestep.
“I spoke with Coach Dasha this morning,” said Mitch. “And she informed me that there’s a bit of unhealthy competition between some of the women.”
I couldn’t believe Dasha had gone to Mitch. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Had Dasha ratted us out? Did she spill everything to Mitch in an effort to save her career. Along my heart sinking from love lost, I also felt a bit of betrayed anger well up inside of me. I wished she had talked to me first about confronting Mitch.
I decided to stay cagey. I didn’t know what Dasha had said but I also didn’t want to incriminate myself. It was a fine line.
“Sometimes there is unhealthy competition,” I admitted. “It can be disappointing.”
“Right,” said Mitch. “My job is to make sure it doesn’t spread. That kind of attitude can be toxic. We’re all professionals here, operating at the highest level of sport.”
“I agree,” I said.
“While Coach Dasha assured me that she had it all under control,” continued Mitch. “She also told me that she thought it would be best if you continued your primary training with Coach Jenny. And as I trust Coach Dasha to manage her team, I’m going to take her advice.”
“I understand,” I said, slowly nodding. I felt betrayed. I felt abandoned. There was this weird mixture of feelings amalgamating inside of me, heartbreak melded with understanding. It was hard to reconcile.
“I just want to make it clear,” said Mitch. “Nobody is in trouble here. We’re simply making this change for the good of the team. We’ll be heading to Rio soon and a change this late shouldn’t have a large effect. You’ve spent plenty of time with Dasha to learn from her. Do you feel like that’s true?”
“Yes, Coach,” I said softly, trying to focus on my breath and calm myself.
“You’re one of our most talented athletes,” said Mitch. He could tell I wasn’t in the best of places and was attempting to console me. “It would be a detriment to both your own game and that of the team for you to stay mixed up in any drama. We know you can bring home the Gold for the USA.”
“Thank you,” I said. “That’s what I want as well.”
“That’s good to hear, Marie,” said Mitch. “I know that we can trust you to remain professional throughout the Games and beyond, an athlete that USA Swimming can truly be proud of.”
“Of course,” I said. “This is my life. I love swimming.”
“I know you’ve planned this to be your last go at the Olympics,” he said, slightly altering the subject. “Do you know what you’ll do after Rio?”
“I will probably still compete on a lower level,” I said. “But I’ve also been considering getting into coaching.”
“Coaching, eh?” said Mitch. “I like that idea. From what I’ve seen, I think you’ve got the analytical mind and focused drive required to transition to coaching. I think it would be a good move for you, Marie.”
“Thank you, Coach,” I said.
“Look,” he said. “I don’t want anything that’s happened or anything we’ve talked about to affect your swimming. So please take that analytical mind and focused drive I’ve just complimented and channel your energies on the competition.”
“I will,” I said. “I won’t let anything affect my game, Coach.”
“Terrific,” said Mitch. “Thank you for your time, Marie.”
I flattened my lips and nodded, standing up from the chair in front of Mitch’s desk and gave him one last look in case he had anything else to say. He simply smiled at me and I knew we were done.
“Thank you, Coach,” I said. “I won’t let you down.”
I sauntered out of Mitch’s office and pulled the door half-closed behind me. I certainly felt disappointed that I would no longer be working directly with Dasha but I understood. I was angry, I was crushed, but I understood. Coaching was her career and she couldn’t jeopardize that for me. I hated Amber in that moment, really hated her. Before she just annoyed me, pissed me off a little, but now I felt a fire burning inside of me that made me want to crush her. Although I knew it would feel good to pop her one in the face, I also knew that wasn’t the answer.
The answer was to destroy her in the pool.
I slammed my locker shut. I clicked my combination lock closed in my hands and tossed it down into my duffel bag on the bench behind me. Going through my bag one final time, I made sure I had everything and deftly zipped it together with one quick pull. I had just had my final practice in Ann Arbor and we were mere days away from the flight to Rio. I could feel the nervousness flutter in my heart, the subtle tinge of anxiety running through me, but it was more expectant excitement than anything else. My body was ready. I was absolutely geeked for competing on the world’s stage.
As I hoisted my bag up onto my shoulders, feeling a bit saddened to be leaving Canham Natatorium for possibly the last time, I tried to push down the emotions I was feeling and keep a single focus on my goals. I admit, the nerves were tough. Just the previous night I had seen a commercial for the Olympics on TV that featured us swimmers, a spot that had been filmed at practice just a few weeks back. It was almost frightening to see myself on TV, even if only for a split second, not because I was necessarily nervous about swimming, but because so many people would be watching me. I didn’t want to let anyone down.
I tried not to think about the eyes on me. I tried not to think about the interviews I knew I’d have to do in Rio. I was a professional and I had to keep my mind trained on my athletics. That was what was expected of me and how I could serve everybody the best.
Making to leave, I stepped out of a bank of lockers and almost ran into Amber who was approaching me at the same time. As soon as I saw her face, I huffed annoyedly. I gave her an intense look, trying to convey that I wasn’t too keen on talking to her at that moment.
Amber looked on me with some minor confusion. It was obvious she wanted to clear some things up.
“Marie,” she said, in her usual snotty tone.
“Am
ber,” I replied in a low voice.
“Hey,” she said. “So I haven’t seen you training with Coach Dasha. What’s up with that?” Amber was suspicious and concerned and her dithering gave me a chuckle.
“I’m working closer with Coach Jenny now,” I said.
“Is that so?” said Amber. She got a little smarmy, trying to take back control of the situation. “I hope we still have an agreement in all this on account of… what I know.”
“You know nothing,” I said matter-of-factly. “There’s nothing between Dasha and I. We’ve gone our separate ways. And my new focus is to absolutely embarrass you in the 400 meter freestyle event.” When I said this, Amber’s eyes popped wide and she looked completely rattled.
“You what?” she said. “What are you talking about?”
“You heard me,” I said, stepping closer to her. I locked eyes with her and moved my head in close so that our noses were almost touching. “I’m going for Gold in our event. You’re free to come in second if you like.”
“I told you I’d tell Mitch,” she said, starting to get angry. “I’ll squeal.”
“Tell him whatever you like,” I said. My voice had lowered into an irritated whisper. “Dasha and I are over. I’m married to the pool and I’m about to birth a shiny Gold Medal. So get out of my way before I push you out of my way.” I then curled my lips into an innocent smile.
I could tell Amber was stunned. She immediately stepped out of my way and I made haste past her. I couldn’t even bear to look at her. I hated fighting, I hated being that bitter, angry person, but I just couldn’t help it in that moment. I mourned the loss of Dasha and I blamed Amber fully.
I needed to get outside.
Striding indignantly through the hallway, I suddenly felt my stomach drop when I saw Dasha walking toward me in the opposite direction. My heart instantly melted. The ill will I felt toward Amber was gone and upon seeing Dasha’s pretty face I simply swooned. She offered me a sincere smile as she approached, her finger threading through her dark hair and pushing a tendril back behind her ear.
“Hey Marie,” she said. “You’ve been doing great with Jenny. I’m really proud of your progress.”
“Thank you,” I demurred.
“I think you’ve really picked up speed after the turn,” said Dasha, still smiling at me. I could tell she felt for me. We hadn’t really talked much since everything went down. And now, so close to the Olympics, it was getting tough to avoid each other.
“I know,” I said. “I can feel it. I’m really determined. I’ve kicked my practice into overdrive.” Dasha laughed softly.
“Good,” she affirmed. Although I still felt a small sense of anger with Dasha, distraught that she broke us up and went to Mitch preemptively, I really couldn’t stand in front of her and be mad. She was so sweet, so kind, so beautiful. I had to hold out hope that we could work things out, that it would all be right again. Because if I couldn’t have Dasha in my life, what then? I felt absolutely empty without her.
But for now, I knew I had to remain focused.
“I… I should go,” I said gently, looking off from her. “I’ve got to get back to the dorms and start preparing.”
“All right,” said Dasha, giving me a single nod. “I’ll see you at the airport?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Yeah, I’ll see you then.” I gave Dasha a suppressed smile and then continued on my path past her. Just seeing Dasha diffused all the anger I had built up over my run-in with Amber. I knew she was special. I knew she was the one. And I knew she felt it too. She just had to.
Love can be complicated. It can involve feelings of anger and resentment, just as much as it can involve all the good stuff. I mean, if you don’t feel a range of emotions with someone, can you really call it love? I don’t know. But I do know that the people you love the most, the people you are the closest with, can be the ones who easily push your buttons. They can throw the switch that quickly takes you from happiness to sadness, affection to melancholy. If you don’t give a crap about someone, it’s very difficult for them to hurt you. Whether it’s romantic love, familial, or friendship. The people who you let into your heart are the ones who can easily stomp on it.
I just had to remember that, despite my history of disappointment and loss, I was a lucky person. I was fortunate, I was talented, and I was grateful for it all.
I really didn’t have all that much to pack up in my dorm. After all, I brought very little with me when I came to Ann Arbor. That was the way I traveled. Light and breezy. I relied mainly on myself, not my physical stuff. It felt easier that way. It felt less responsible. It felt less permanent. The fewer things you have, the fewer things you have to worry about.
Just my backpack and a plane ticket.
I tried to imagine what life might look like after the Olympics. I win a Gold Medal, of course, maybe I win two of them with the medley relay factored in. I probably make the rounds on talk shows with some of the other swimmers, do some commentary, maybe get some sponsorship deals. Who knows. But what about after that? What kind of life did I want next?
I wasn’t sure if I was going to stay in Chicago. I was pretty fond of my swim club there but I felt antsy for a change. I felt like there was something else out there that I was missing, some grass that must be greener somewhere else. Sometimes you hear the platitude “the grass is always greener where you water it” and I suppose that has an inkling of truth. But in my experience, a bit of travel, embracing change, can show you that sometimes the grass is blue or red or yellow and it’s worth it to experience all the different possibilities out there before you try to define your own reality.
Although I certainly felt ready for the Games, ready to compete, and ready to win, I also couldn’t help feeling like I was back at square one. Back where I was before I made the team. Just a swimmer who didn’t have much else going on in her life. It felt pretty lonely. I wanted to open up my heart, I wanted to feel accepted, but it just never seemed to work out for me. But maybe it was just me, just my own doing. Maybe I was the one closing everyone out rather than them not accepting me.
Maybe I was obsessed with some romantic notion of being the loner. These last 4 years of life had been difficult.
After the Olympics, maybe I’d just go travel again. I could use another round the world trip to get my head on straight. I was beginning to lose sight of reconnecting with Dasha. I mean, it was certainly a possibility but it felt very nebulous. It felt cloudy. Maybe what we had was just a quick whirlwind type of thing and I was crazy for my feelings of love for her. It could just be the pain in my heart that persuaded me to latch on to anyone who gave me attention, anyone who kissed me. That’s not so far-fetched. I’m not trying to pretend I know the logistics behind the operation of the human psyche, I barely had a handle on my own, so it could very well just be puppy love, empty infatuation, mistaking lust for love. God, I just didn’t know anymore.
My only responsibility now was to my team and my country. And it was just as well. I hated responsibility. I didn’t like to tell people that because sometimes it makes them think less of you. But I value freedom over responsibility. I liked having the option to run away. Maybe I’m broke for feeling that way, maybe I’m outside of the norm. But do you ever look at your life, look at your responsibilities, and think, “how the heck did I get here?” You try to trace your decisions or the various circumstances of your life, piecing together some sort of map, and it still doesn’t make sense. I didn’t used to feel that way. I didn’t even think of responsibility in a positive or negative light. But I guess I was given a lot of responsibility very quickly and very suddenly and that had some weird profound effect on me.
But the dichotomy of my personality was that I was also a fierce competitor. I liked to win. It carried a lot of meaning for me. Even more meaning since the death of my parents. I had become singularly focused, eschewing almost all else to achieve my goal. And there I was. The eve of my flight to Rio to compete in the 2016 Olympics. It was diffi
cult to fathom. But I knew I deserved it. I knew I was capable. I knew I could win.
I had to put on my game face. I had to represent my country well and show how determined I was. It’s a lot of pressure. It’s a lot of responsibility. But it was the kind of responsibility I really didn’t mind. It was on my own terms. I didn’t know what I would do next and, really, I didn’t care all that much. I would cross that bridge when I got there.
Three
“All right, Marie,” said a lady from the MBC network, Margaret, with a headset over her ears. I was sitting down in a chair next to famous TV sports anchor Rob Cochran, his hair perfectly coiffed, suit immaculately pressed. He looked over at me and gave me a smile. I was in my Team USA track suit, makeup on my face, my blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. “Are you ready to shoot the interview?”
“Yes,” I affirmed, straightening out my track jacket and wiggling my butt into the chair to search for better comfort. In front of us were two cameramen, each managing a stationary camera. I couldn’t believe that I was about to do my first interview for the Olympics, my stomach feeling a bit queasy, my nerves getting the best of me. At least it wasn’t live. They told me that if I messed anything up it was okay, they would just fix it in editing.
“Rob, are you ready?” asked Margaret.
“I am,” said Rob. His voice was even, yet animated, clear, precise. I wondered if the people close to him ever got sick of him talking in his iconic Rob Cochran broadcast voice. “Don’t be nervous,” said Rob, leaning over to me. “Just relax and smile. You’re going to do great.”
“Thanks,” I said softly, looking away. I was blown away by how nervous I felt. It was really happening. It wasn’t the pre-Game training or even the tattoo. This interview somehow solidified it in my brain. I was an Olympian.
Freestyle Flirting: A Sweet Lesbian Romance Page 10