really takes is a gossipy athlete walking by and blabbing to someone. Then we’ll be on that fluffy half-hour entertainment show that airs before the main coverage every night.”
Isaac shrugged. “Fuck ’em.”
“I’m serious.”
Isaac let out a breath. “All right, yes, I’m a little worried. But only because I’m not ready to share this with the world yet.” He reached over and ran the back of his hand along Tim’s cheek. “We just met. No need to shout it from the rooftops.”
“You’re not worried about some of the less tolerant athletes? Bad press? Being outed?”
“Believe me, I know all about bad press. It sucks. When I was arrested, the press pored over my whole life in meticulous detail. I’m genuinely surprised none of my male exes came forward, because that little detail would have been a delicious cherry on top, right? But the thing is, it blows over. They’re just words.”
“So if someone saw you kiss me and told a reporter, you wouldn’t care, then?”
“I’d care, but… what have I got to lose at this point? My family and friends know I’m bisexual. The DUI pretty much tanked everything else.”
That gave Tim pause. “You’re not just using me to go out in a blaze of glory, are you?”
Isaac looked confused by that, at least. He furrowed his brow and leaned away. “Why would you—oh. It’s the defeatist attitude, isn’t it?”
“It’s hard to figure you out sometimes. I think you do care, but you think you’ve already lost everything. You have a second chance here, Isaac. Not many people get that. You should be making the most of it instead of assuming everything will turn out terribly.”
“I should, you’re right. I am. I think… I mean, I want you to know, your friendship means a lot to me. That we can talk freely with each other is so valuable. If I leave here in two weeks with no medals, I’ll still have had this time with you. That’s no small thing.” Isaac sighed. “I want my life back. I want to feel like I own it, not that it’s out of control. Getting sober was a big part of that, but if I can prove I can still swim? If I can say, hey, I’m clean now, I’m healthy? Maybe I get my career back. I can swim for a few more years while I figure out what to do next.”
“There you go.” Tim smiled. He was encouraged by the shifts in Isaac’s attitude. “But tonight you’re going to win a gold medal for me.”
“I thought we agreed it just had to be a medal.”
“I’ve decided it has to be gold.”
Isaac grinned. “All right. For you? Anything.”
ISAAC HAD a breaststroke semifinal the afternoon before the 400 IM final. He supposed it could have been worse; there were only three heats of swimmers, so they were foregoing semifinals, saving him from having to swim a second race that night. When he’d been younger, two medal races in one night would have been no issue, but now that he was almost thirty, he needed more recovery time between races.
So he stood in what had been designated the American Lounge corner of the ready room. Adam said he thought the time to beat in the 200-meter breaststroke was 3:45, which felt reasonable; Isaac’s world record was two seconds faster than that. He’d set that six years ago, long before the DUI, but still, somewhere in his body lived the muscle memory to get that done.
One of the other coaches called Adam away—just as well, because Isaac preferred to play white noise through his headphones before a race—so Isaac sat in a folding chair, aware of the camera in the corner trained on him.
His phone lay in his jacket pocket, with the white noise app already turned on, so Isaac slid his headphones on. He closed his eyes and zoned out. He needed to calm down enough to relax.
His muscles felt good, though. He’d watched some of the other swimmers go through the cupping therapy and thought it too freaky—it involved sucking skin and muscle into a glass cup, leaving big purple bruises behind, so no, thank you—but he took up Tim’s suggestion for acupuncture that morning, which had done some good. It didn’t hurt, and maybe it did nothing, but having to lie still for a half hour had helped soothe Isaac’s fraying nerves if nothing else.
An announcer called his heat, so he stood and followed the other swimmers out.
The camera from the American network