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8
MARISSA
My time in training has flown by and today is the last day of time trials for inclusion on the Olympic Team.
I’ve placed in the top two in every trial so far, and that’s all I need to do to make the team. I’d like to place number one but my trainer is coming with us to Paris so we’ll still have time to drill before the races that count.
Malcolm spends his days in the bleachers, busy setting up interviews and endorsements for me. I still catch him watching me with a huge smile on his face and that makes me want to work even harder. I never cared much about getting praise from my parents, but I desperately want Malcolm to be proud of me.
Everyone seems to be on edge this morning, and the mess hall is so quiet you could hear a pin drop. As I enter, I see that there’s only one empty table in the room. As it happens, Everet King and his band of idiots are standing right beside it. I have no choice but to walk through them, so I avert my eyes and try to make myself as small as possible, hoping to get by unnoticed.
Everet has behaved himself since the day he and Malcolm went for that swim together. He side-eyes me and laughs with his friends about it, but I haven’t said anything to Malcolm. His adolescent behavior so far hasn’t warranted any type of response and especially not the type he’d get from Malcolm.
“I don’t know how you keep managing to rank so high with a whole grandpa hanging out of your ass,” Everet says and all of the other boys burst into a chorus of laughter.
“I don’t know how you keep placing so high with all that alcohol in your system,” I shoot back.
“Maybe it isn’t so shocking that she finishes fast. Grandpa probably finishes fast too,” he shouts and the boys all crack up again.
“You really are a piece of shit, Everet. You know that, right?”
“I’ll tell you what. I’ll stop by a senior citizen’s home and spend some quality time with the ladies so you’ll think better of me.” He nearly spits at the end of the sentence then turns his back to me.
I wish I could jump on his back and rip every spiked hair out of his head, but he isn’t worth any more trouble. If he was, I’d tell Malcolm to break his legs.
The swim lanes haven’t been set up in the pool yet since the divers are competing first so I scan the bleachers for Malcolm. Our eyes meet, and he smiles and waves. I climb to the top row, listening to the swishing sound my windbreaker makes. Sitting down beside him, I put my hand down beside my leg so he can discreetly take it in his.
“Good morning, baby. Did you sleep well?” he asks me with a grin.
“You know how I slept. You just dropped me off an hour ago.”
“Hush now. We need to keep up appearances, don’t we?”
“Do we? I’m pretty sure the facility knows I haven’t spent very many nights in my bed here. Where do you suppose they think I’ve been sleeping?”
“It doesn’t matter what they think. All that matters is what they know. You were almost caught up in one scandal because of me. Until you make the team and we shuffle off to Paris, you need to either be squeaky clean or show them that you can hide your indiscretions from everyone but mostly from the press.”
“I know. It all makes sense, but it’s still frustrating. I’m an adult. Who cares who I get involved with?”
“They don’t care what you do. They only care about what it looks like. And while I understand your frustration, I don’t think you can fathom how frustrating it is for me. You’re my girl, and I want the whole damn world to know it.”
“Sucks, doesn’t it?”
He rubs his fingers against my thigh. “We’re in the home stretch now. We’ll be in Paris before the end of the week. Paris is the city of romance, and I plan to fuck you all over it.”
“And I can’t wait.” I feel the rush of heat in the pit of my belly and hear the pounding of my heart in my ears.
Everet King takes his place on the board, and we watch as he glides gracefully to the water below.
“He’s such a graceful little twit. I wonder if he wore a tutu to ballet class,” Malcolm says and I laugh a little louder than I should.
The sound echoes in the mostly vacant metal building. Everet hears me and looks up at us with scorn on his contorted face. I should feel apologetic, but given his performance in the mess hall, I simply grin at him and roll my eyes. He tosses his towel onto the pool deck and storms off to the dressing rooms.
