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I was so sick when I got home from the meet, but I wasn't going to let it hold me down. Exhaustion had taken over and my body cramped up. I had a small fever. Going to practice the next day was an absolute must and what anyone else would've done, so it's what I did too.
There was something about the powdery chalk and echoes of the apparatuses that helped calm my racing mind. For four days and four nights straight, I pushed myself and trained like a beast. No one questioned me. Madeline and Kova went along with it. To them, they probably assumed I was preparing for Worlds. And I was, but I was also just trying to keep my head above water the only way I knew how.
I kept telling myself that if I could do it before everything happened, then I could do it now. I ached more than ever, but I refused to rely on pain medicine at night. I knew it could have long-term effects and I wasn't going to go down the path of addiction.
Drained beyond comprehension, I kept to myself and didn't talk to anyone. There was success in silence, is what I told myself. Not even when I stayed later and only Kova was there. The walls of my life were slowly caving in, but being inside World Cup was the only way for me to breathe. I struggled to keep it together, yet this was the only way to remain whole. The only way I felt like me again, so I worked myself until I could barely stand.
But today… Today felt like more than I could handle. The pressure in my chest was mounting to capacity. I felt the break coming the moment I woke up, like a massive title wave forming in the distance, building up stronger and fiercer the closer it grew.
As I waited for my coffee to finish brewing, my phone dinged. Yawning, I opened
the message from my dad and read it.
Dad Cell: Call me when you wake. It's important.
Frowning, I called him immediately. "Dad? Everything okay?"
"Sweetie. I didn't expect you to be up."
I glanced at the clock on my coffee pot and blinked. It was a quarter after four in the morning.
"I've been going into practice early, so I've been up at this time all week."
"Just like your father," he said proudly.
I was sure he only slept three hours a night at most just so he could work more.
He cleared his throat, then said, "Have you been watching the news?"
My brows bunched together. "No. Why? What's wrong?"
"A hurricane is headed your way. It's only a category two and nothing to worry about, but with the water still so warm and no land to slow it down, I want you to be prepared. A few early predictions say it could grow to a three. I want you to close the shutters even though the windows are double-paned. They should just slide shut easily. I'm going to have food and water delivered to your condo today just in case, along with flashlights and a radio."
"By who? Who has a key?"
"Thomas is already on the road and headed your way. He should be there in the next couple of hours. I figured you would be at practice, so I gave him a spare key."
My heart softened. "I'd love to see him."
"He'd love that too, sweetie, but I gave him strict instructions. I don't want him caught in traffic on the way back. You know how some people get when a hurricane nears, how the media hypes them up and creates chaos. I want him home and safe."
I laughed lightly. Being born and raised in South Florida, a cat two was nothing to blink about, but there were those who evacuated anyway.
"When is it supposed to make landfall?"
"The day after tomorrow, early morning and just slightly south of where you are. Turn the television on and watch. On your way to practice, fill up your gas tank just in case."
I smiled into the phone. "I know, Dad."
"Make sure all your medicine is filled and keep your phone charged."
I grabbed a mug and poured the coffee. "It already is."
"Wash any dirty clothes now. Don't open the fridge too much and turn the air down so it stays cool."
"Dad. It's just a two."
I was surprised he was worrying the way he was. He didn't typically worry until it crossed into a four.
