already standing at the ladder to the platform when Tim got to the diving pool. Jason’s dark skin seemed to glow under the bright lights of the Aquatics Center as he surveyed the platform. “We only have thirty minutes,” Jason said as Tim approached. “Water polo practice is happening after that.”
Donnie walked over. “Are you boys ready?”
Isaac still filled Tim’s head; all Tim saw was his broad back. Tim could still feel how warm and smooth his skin had been, still hear the groans Isaac had let out as Tim worked his muscles. They’d shot to Tim’s groin as if they were making out, and Tim had forced himself to think of math problems and dive codes to get his body to calm down.
Now he shook his head and tried to focus on Donnie and Jason and diving.
“I want you to watch this,” Donnie said, pulling out his tablet. He cued up a video and hit Play.
The Chinese team.
There were so many variables in a dive—how hard you pushed off the platform, how far out from the platform you jumped, the rate of your rotations, whether you positioned your body vertically as you entered the water. Two divers in a synchronized pair could each execute a dive perfectly but still look different from each other. However, the Chinese divers were so in sync, they practically moved as one. The camera angle in Donnie’s video made them seem like they were one, because Tim could only see the diver in the foreground.
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Donnie said. “You guys had this in practice at home, but now your synchronization is off. I don’t know if it’s nerves or what. All week Jason has been jumping farther off from the platform and Tim is starting his dives a fraction of a second sooner, which means you guys sometimes don’t complete the rotations together. This one’s from yesterday.”
Donnie played another video—less professional, clearly shot with Donnie’s phone—showing Jason and Tim, and he was right. Jason jumped a little harder, got out farther from the platform, and as a consequence, hung in the air a half second longer than Tim did before he moved his legs into the tuck. Tim completed the dive a hair sooner. And that meant their synchronization was off enough to be noticeable.
“So,” Donnie said. “Calm down and ignore the change in venue. It’s a platform, right? Just like the one we train on in Colorado. Got it?”
Jason nodded. “Just a platform.”
Donnie made eye contact with Tim, so Tim nodded too.
“Now I want to try this two ways. First, Jason, ease off and don’t jump out so far. Then we’ll try it with Tim jumping out farther. Tim, count out loud if you can and shout when you start rotating. We’ll tweak it until you’re back in sync.”
Six dives later, Donnie finally seemed satisfied, so Tim and Jason cleared out of the area to let the Spanish water polo team take over the pool for practice.
Back in the locker room, Jason chattered about the other medal contenders—the British team and the Italian team seemed most likely to be fighting for podium space with Tim, Jason, and the Chinese divers—and Tim half tuned him out. Then Jason said, “But, man, I can’t get over how beautiful everyone is. You know? There’s this British swimmer who is so gorgeous, I get totally tongue-tied whenever I get near her. Her eyes are green, and her body is… wow!” Jason looked dreamily into the distance.
Tim smiled as he fished his street clothes out of his locker. Tim couldn’t disagree; an overwhelming number of people in peak physical condition walked around everywhere Tim had gone since arriving in Madrid. Of course, this was why athletes were handed a pile of condoms with their welcome kits when they checked into the Olympic Village.
“Have you talked to her?” Tim asked.
“Yeah, kind of. I mean, I said hello and introduced myself. I don’t think she’s interested.”
“Why not? You’re a good-looking guy.” And Jason was cute, although he wasn’t really Tim’s type. He was a little too willowy, but he had a nice square jaw, close-cropped black hair, and of course, a diver’s body. Like Tim, Jason was biracial, something they’d talked about a fair amount in the past. Jason’s mother was white and his father was African American, giving Jason beautiful brown skin. Tim was half-white and half-Filipino, which mostly just made people ask him “What are you?” a lot.
Jason shrugged. “I guess I’m all-right-looking. What