of other gifts I wouldn’t bestow on my worst enemy, and the last thing I wanted was to return to the poverty of my past. So, while I had the spotlight, I knew I had to make money. Sponsorships were the way forward, which meant I had to be what I wasn’t—sellable.
I didn’t like thinking of myself as a commodity, but hell, weren’t we all in the marketplace? Selling our souls just to make a living? A living that made us happy instead of tying us to the rat race?
For myself, I was more of a fish than a rat, and I intended to do my eking out while doing what I loved, not what I needed, to survive.
So, I smiled.
And when the journalist asked me a stupid question like, “People are calling you the female Michael Phelps. How does that make you feel?”
I answered.
Politely.
Even though it was rude, even though it was stupid, I sold myself.
“I think that people making such a comparison is something for me to be proud of and something to live up to. I only hope I can accomplish even half of what Michael did in his career.” There, I figured that was diplomatic enough.
“You’re set to surge up the medal charts, Thea. Katie LeDecky is a Stanford alumna…are you trying to best her record?” the blond reporter boomed, his voice lifting in volume as the crowd went wild when the swimmers took to the stands, readying themselves for their own dive into glory.
“I’m just taking things one race at a time and giving it my all,” I retorted calmly, even though his question irritated the shit out of me.
“Gold medals in London, Madrid, New York, and now Tokyo. What’s next when gold is your color?”
I shot him a smile. “Records,” I answered earnestly. “Something that will get me in the history books.” I shrugged. “Prideful? Maybe. It’s something to aim for, isn’t it?”
And then I moved onto the next, and the next, before Lori tugged me into the changing rooms, her eyes dancing as she asked, “Michaela Phelps? You changing your name?”
I snorted as I tossed my towel at her. “Shuddupa ya face.”
Though the towel hid her expression for a second, I still saw her smirk and rolled my eyes, even as I headed straight into the showers.
The place was chaos. There were ten more races going down within the next two hours. I’d already swam three times today, all heats to get me into the finals.
Before the week was up, I’d be sore, but goddamn, it would be worth it.
As I showered off, I twisted my neck from side to side.
The place was a little grody, even though the event planners were really trying, but with so many bodies in and out, it was hard. Still, my sore muscles didn’t care. The heat felt beyond good.
I got myself cleaned up, donned new team sweats, and plucked at my hair. It was plaited in a French braid that Lori had done for me last night and which she’d do again for me tonight, just as I would for her, and though some of the other women fancied themselves up a little, refreshing their hair, some even glossing their lips, I didn’t bother. I was me.
Theodosia Kinkade.
Warts and all.
When we were finally called out, I was eating a banana to keep my energy up. I blew out a breath, bumped fists with Lori before I shoved the rest of my banana at her, which she promptly chowed into, then waded into the stadium and headed over to the podium.
It was surreal to stand there, waiting for my name to be called out. Weird to wave to the crowds who were cheering, odd to be given a medal and a bunch of flowers, and stranger still to hear the national anthem. My national anthem as cameras flashed and my picture was taken.
He was there.
Still.
Waiting.
Watching.
And he kept me calm.
He soothed me.
Even as he was my biggest source of stress.
Of misery.
I didn’t look at the family. Didn’t need to know they were cheering and waving, clapping like loons on my behalf. Sometimes, it was difficult to remember that Anna Ramsden had been a state senator. Difficult to remember that Robert was a successful businessman. Especially when they were hopping up and down at my meets.
But today, Adam was here, and he got all my attention.
My throat was thick by the time the anthem ended. Through it all, he’d stayed with me.