by Shawn Keys
“From what I could hear, sounds like it worked out.”
“It will as long as nothing else goes wrong.” He frowned, then forced himself to stop imagining all the things that could. “But that’s handled. Let’s focus on our team, shall we?”
Flora laughed. “Oh, don’t mind me. I’m going to be chewing my nails to the bone for the next three days until Melodie finishes her solo.”
“At least they aren’t in the speed events this time. Those don’t happen until Day 8. You’d have to suffer for even longer,” He noted off hand.
She glanced up at him. “You think you’re funny? Keep that up and you’ll talk me out of supporting that lunacy.”
“Hah! It’s not me you’ll have to talk out of it. Think Laura or Hélène will give in?”
She scowled. “No.”
“Which means the sane thing to do is get yourself ready for dealing with the nerves.” He considered a new idea. “That… or you could outsource the worrying.”
“What?”
“Well, if they are going to get into speed swimming, you might want to think about bringing on a specialist coach. You’re a fantastic artistic swimming coach, but you need to ask yourself if you can get those two to their best or if a partner might be a good choice.”
Flora hummed, not balking at the thought. She was possessive in a way, but she was also a realist. “Not an especially happy thought, but I see what you mean.”
“I know you care about them enough to be honest about this.” Matteo shrugged. “Now’s not the time. But the Pan Am Games are not long after Nationals next year. If you want them to break into those sports, we’ll have to start training them right away. Conversation for a few days from now?”
She nodded. “Keep reminding me. If I get the feeling that I can’t give them what they need, I’ll ask for your help in locating someone else to teach them. I hear you’re a man who knows how to find things.” She winked at him.
“Indeed, I am, Coach. Indeed, I am.” He stood a little straighter. “Think that’s them coming out now.” He craned his neck, wanting to see them from the first moment on. Whoever and whatever else he was, he was totally a fan of theirs now. His appreciation for their skill and beauty continued to grow each day. “They are going to do the ‘Friends’ routine again?”
Flora nodded. “Takes quite a while to work up a new routine. We know their ‘Supergirl’ technical is far superior. Works against them, I hate to say. They get great scores off the start and get the judges’ hopes up. Their ‘Friends’ routine might seem like a let-down after that. It’s wonderful, but not at the same level.” She shook her head. “They haven’t been inspired yet. It’ll come. Once we figure it out, they’ll really start crushing it.” She began to clap as Laura took her first steps out onto the pool deck. “It’s the best we have for now, though! Go girls! Wooo!”
She managed to be loud enough that her voice rose above the crowd. A small smile escaped from Daphne before she schooled herself back to uniformity with the others. They took their starting positions and waited for the polite applause to quiet and their music to start.
Matteo grinned as the first bars of You Gotta have Friends played over the speakers. It was catchy and quick. Perfect for tumbling in the water in a flirty way with some synchronized kicks scattered throughout, along with an impressive lift where three of them swam upside down while Laura did splits on their upturned feet. They ended with a bursting throw where Daphne was propelled out of the water like a missile.
It was excellent. Sharp. Expertly executed. But it was missing something that their ‘Supergirl’ routine wasn’t. Depth. Importance. That other routine said something about them. It was inspiring. Their ‘Friends’ routine was entertaining. Fun. A joy to behold. But it lacked that unique punch.
When they finished, the four teammates swam in circles, waving to the applause they received. If they felt this routine had been somehow lesser, they didn’t show it. They were all utterly delighted with what they had accomplished. They had sacrificed a lot to be in a true international competition, and they were obviously drinking in the magic of a strong performance.
Broaching the water at the edge of the pool, the four friends emerged onto the deck. Shivering slightly in the cool air, they continued their acknowledgement of the crowd.
Matteo encouraged Flora, “Go on. Other coaches go out and stand with their teams.”
“What about you?”
“I’m just a fan,” Matteo chuckled.
Flora smirked. “You’re a lot more than that. You know they see you as more.”
“But the IOC doesn’t.” He gave another soft laugh. “Go on. Only coaches are allowed out on the deck. Good luck charms don’t count. I won’t go anywhere. Promise.”
Flora beamed at him and headed over to join them.
Matteo watched in fond amusement as Flora hugged her way down the line. Her affection drew out each of their personalities. Laura’s calm leadership turned into a sweet hug for her mentor. Daphne flung her arms enthusiastically around her coach. Melodie’s shy grin developed as she came close to tears, emotional over what they had done. Hélène reserved control, embracing her coach gently while not letting the full depth of her complex feelings show.
They are an amazing group. So much potential. So far to go. He knew they were going to face new challenges soon. If they wanted to meet the other teams of the world on their own terms, it will be demanding. That much was obvious to him.
For now, it was enough that they were taking these first steps. He faced the scoreboard and watched the board change.
After Free Swim Round
1 – PTS 1 – 75 – 48.75 – 77.10
2 – SEY 1 – 73 – 47.45 – 74.75
3 – BEL 1 – 73 – 47.45 – 74.05
4 – FRA 2 – 71 – 46.15 – 72.40
5 – CAN 2 – 71 – 46.15 – 72.05
6 – CIV 1 – 72 – 46.80 – 71.75
7 – CHA 1 – 70 – 45.50 – 71.75
8 – BUR 1 – 71 – 46.15 – 71.45
9 – LUX 1 – 70 – 45.50 – 70.10
10 – BEL 2 – 68 – 44.20 – 70.10
11 – TOG 1 – 67 – 43.55 – 68.15
12 – FRA 1 – ## – ##.## – 29.40
13 – CAN 1 – ## – ##.## – 29.05
14 – CAM 1 – ## – ##.## – 29.05
15 – SWI 1 – ## – ##.## – 28.70
He was already smiling. Now he really glowed. He turned back toward the team, wanting to watch their realization dawning. They had protected their spot in fifth place and could finish no worse. It was theoretically possible that they would rise farther if one of the other teams faltered. He was never one to bet on another team’s failure, though.
Oh, it would be amazing to see a medal laying on their chests. He left that hope to them. For him… he knew this was a real moment of victory. Back home, the President of the Commission would be watching with mingled pleasure and disgust. Portesara had made another great showing. At the same time, he was going to be forced to accept them onto the team for at least one more round of cuts. They would get their spot at the Pan Am Games. Their dreams would live on.
His pocket buzzed. He had said he wouldn’t look at his phone… but he risked it anyway. A smirk formed on his face as he noticed it was a text from Guy Lafont.
Guy || 35 it is.
Matteo’s wry smile spread further. Wait until he hears that we are pushing for eight spots instead of four. Then there will really be hell to pay. His eyes found their way to the team again, trying not to think about where else this might lead. If they couldn’t find the right athletes or convince the commission that the extra spaces were necessary, then they would be left behind before the world championships. Eventually, someone was going to recognize that a team of four didn’t have a chance.
It’s a dangerous game to play, he pondered briefly. But… a necessary one.
Once more, he pushed down the unhelpful worrying. That was a concern for after they
finish here. They aren’t done yet. Like Flora was saying, the team has two events to go. Even though it was Daphne and Melodie who would be competing in the duet and solo events, he knew Laura and Hélène would share in their anxiety as totally as Flora was already doing.
He laughed at himself. Oh yeah. And you’re being as cool as cucumber about it all. He continued to chuckle as he admitted how invested he had become in their future. For better or worse, I’m in this till the end. That much is for sure.
Chapter 18
MK knocked on Cadence’s door. “This is your event, you know.”
It opened, revealing her friend already in her track suit with her vaulting attire underneath. Cadence didn’t have anything to be ashamed of; MK thought her friend looked amazing in the tight-fitting spandex top and shorts common to most high-level vaulters. But it was little better than a bikini for how much it covered, making it a tad inappropriate for the walk across the athletes’ village and into the stadium. “Almost ready,” Cadence said, plopping down in a nearby seat to pull on her street shoes.
That always made MK snicker. She didn’t wear much more when running. Granted, her sleeveless top and high-cut shorts were a little less revealing, but only by a marginal amount. Hundreds of athletes dressed in what amounted to stretchy underwear could gather in a stadium and be broadcast live to millions of people and no-one would say a word. But heaven-forbid one of them walk across a parking lot. Granted it was a little more liberal on the European continent. Cadence might not get arrested for indecent exposure or anything. But she’d certainly whip up more than a little attention.
“Hey, take your time,” MK said. “Not like you’ve ever encountered any unexpected delays while getting onto the field before. What’s that saying about learning from history or being doomed to repeat it?”
Cadence rolled her eyes and turned to putting on her second shoe. “Decided to go for the dramatic effect, hmm?”
“Seemed to fit,” MK continued to smirk.
Her smile changed to something a little softer as Irène appeared from out of her room. With her typical energy, she swept down the hall and ended up pressed against MK, standing on her toes and reaching up to press her lips to MK’s.
Unable to resist the allure of the carefree woman’s affection, MK’s eyes closed and she sank into the kiss. It was a strange thing; even amidst the overtly Catholic atmosphere of Portesara, they didn’t feel a lot of pressure to hide their relationship. Not that they went around broadcasting it to anyone. Keeping things private had become second-nature to them after spending so long delicately pretending to not notice Daniel, Cadence and Evelyn in their own bliss. But MK didn’t have to worry about what would happen if a stranger happened to stroll around the corner and see her locked at the lips with Irène.
They surfaced from their moment, and Irène beamed up at her, her eyes wide and joyful. MK responded in kind; the whole thing with her was still effortless, fresh and exciting in the way of all new romances. Irène took that light-hearted wonder to a new level, expecting nothing and demanding nothing. MK didn’t know if they were just having fun or if it could potentially grow into more. That was the sort of question she was determined not to ask. Not simply for fear that it would spoil Irène’s carefree attitude. MK had to admit, she was loving the lack of complication. No sense adding any drama.
By the time they broke from their kiss, Cadence was grabbing her bag and striding toward them. Irène peeled herself off MK and turned to wrap her arms around Cadence. It was a fact of the universe that Irène was an incurable ‘hugger’, giving them out rather freely to anyone who had earned their way into her trust bubble.
MK didn’t mind, especially not when it came to Cadence. The two of them had been close friends for longer. Not that they had frozen her out. Irène was the sort of person who made friends fast. Wore her emotions on her sleeve. Maybe it started out as worshipping the ground her vaulting partner walked on, but fortunately Cadence hadn’t been the sort to keep that going.
And… also… MK didn’t mind especially didn’t mind seeing Irène getting up-close and personal with Cadence. From the first moment MK had seen the star vaulter, a part of her had been attracted to her. Same with Daniel, if she was being honest. She never would have thought she’d be having even flickers of fantasies like the one she was having now, but she couldn’t deny it was ghosting through her mind as she watched her two friends embrace. The door into Cadence’s room is still open. We could tumble back inside. Hugs could become a lot more. Then… well, you never know. Daniel could walk in…
She shook her head, snorting softly at her own silliness. Those three are a bad influence, she chuckled to herself.
Cadence and Irène parted from their hug. In the same way that MK and Irène turned a friendly, blind eye to any display of affection that happened between Cadence and her lovers, so too did Cadence as she breezed by into the corridor without mentioning the sensual kiss she had witnessed. She said, “Come on! If I’m not there in time for a proper warm-up, I’m never going to hear the end of it from Daniel.”
“Least you got to take your pre-shower here without using the mob showers at the stadium,” Irène noted.
“Far less risk of being boiled like a lobster here,” MK agreed.
Firing them both a snarky look, Cadence led the way toward the hotel’s elevator. They looked like a proper team, all in matching track suits with the Portesaran colors. Cadence was the only one sporting a uniform underneath; the other two weren’t competing today, so they were wearing casual street clothes beneath. MK knew that for a fact since she had helped Irène dress after their last bit of fun before going to Cadence’s room. It didn’t bother MK that she wasn’t walking around incognito; it was nice to be part of a team for a while, instantly recognized as one of her nation’s honored participants in the international event. The citizens of Bordeaux were welcoming, and the track suit identified you as one of their visitors. She figured this was a small taste of what it was like to be a celebrity.
Like the CACGs, the FLGs weren’t a large enough event to cause Bordeaux to have built a housing complex like the Olympic athletes’ village. They used existing infrastructure close to the stadium, block-booking hotels and boarding houses to make sure the athletes were close to the stadium. They were staying at a Ville Bleu chain hotel; nice enough with the unbeatable benefit of being within five minutes of the stadium by foot.
As they exited the hotel, a sharp, caustic, painfully familiar voice called out to them, “Managed to figure out what plane to get on after all, huh, Amirault?”
MK’s surprised matched her friends as they turned to see Julie Plasse standing at the loading point for the shuttle. Her first immediate thought was a snide one. Of course, she would be waiting for the shuttle instead of walking. If a privilege is offered, Julie would be the one to take it.
As that less-than-charitable opinion echoed unspoken in her mind, MK considered the woman she was seeing and those surrounding her. Julie was in a group of six that was a blend of men and women about the same age. Clearly, they were athletes attending the FLGs, though their track suits were predominantly white with green and orange accents along the hems and pockets. The most striking fact was that Julie was wearing the same colors.
Mild shock had stalled anything clever Cadence might have said. A look of betrayal painted her face, as if unable to comprehend how the sporting world she loved would dare to allow the woman who had caused her such pain to show up now.
MK’s surprised faded a little faster, giving her the chance to step in and defend her friend. “Mistakes happen. Proof of that’s all around us. I mean, someone decided you were worth coaching, so… anything’s possible.”
Julie sneered back at her. “Wasn’t it you who bit the hand that tried to feed you? If it wasn’t for that bleeding heart coaching you for free, you wouldn’t even be here.”
“You think that bothers me? Money doesn’t buy everything,” MK retorted. Then she glanced down at Julie’s tr
ack suit, glossing over the colors of it. “But it bought you a second chance, didn’t it?”
A touch of indignation rose onto Julie’s face. “Did you all think I’d simply give up on my dream? I had options. Better ones.”
Irène piped up in protest, “You need to be clear of competition for three years before you can switch countries!”
Julie smirked back. “Unless you belong to both. My family has a dual citizenship with Côte d’Ivoire. Portesara turned its back on me. Fine. I’ll get my victories elsewhere.” She tilted her chin with pride. “Should have done this years ago.” As they bantered, the shuttle had arrived and opened its doors. She slipped into line with the others from her new team, leaving without giving them a chance to respond.
As they watched the bus pull away, MK growled. “Dual citizenship? What a joke. There’s no way. Her family is Portesaran royalty. They haven’t had a real link across the ocean in four generations. They found a way around the restrictions for her.”
“You think they bought her citizenship?” Irène gasped.
“How hard could it be to fake a birth certificate, passport and a few other supporting documents. Voila. Côte d’Ivoire has itself a new, female pole vaulter. They didn’t have a credible national champion in that event. Now they do.” MK shook her head.
“Could we prove it?”
“How? Hire an investigator? Tell the UN committee about her unfairness?” MK frowned, disliking their lack of options. “If Côte d’Ivoire says she’s one of them, who’s going to argue? If the administrators for the Games hadn’t already accepted her documents, she wouldn’t be here.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Cadence said, emerging from her shock.
“What do you mean?” MK had to ask.
Cadence shrugged. “You’re right. Probably nothing we can do. I’m not going to waste my time submitting some petty protest. She’s a violent cheat. What about that is surprising?” A shiver ran down her body, as if she was letting the whole matter ripple through and out of her so she could be rid of it. “I’m pissed that she’s here. But I can’t let that shake me. That’s probably what she wants. Best thing I can do now is kick her ass so hard that her new country will be embarrassed they spent the money on her.”