Page 49 of In Too Deep

We walk out to the poolside and take our positions by the seats. The crowd is huge, and not only will I have my home team cheering for me, but all of Australia. Even though I have all this support, it doesn’t stop me from being super nervous. This is the fucking Olympics we’re talking about, and now that I’m here in the Olympic Swimming Centre taking in the atmosphere, my stomach is churning.

I glance up into the stadium to see Caro, East, and the Hughes all there to cheer me on. I watch as they announce Marta. She works up the crowd, smiling and waving like she owns the swimming stadium. She makes a fool of herself, but the crowd eats it up.

I turn to Katie, who rolls her eyes, making me giggle. I wish Coby were here to give me the extra endorphins I need, but he’s up after me, so he’ll be in the marshalling area right now watching on the screen.

My name’s called out, distracting me from my racing thoughts. The stadium erupts in cheers. Turning back, I take off my outer clothes, leaving me in my swimwear, and adjust my blue goggles and caps. Swinging my arms around in big circles, I want to make sure I have the right blood flow through my joints and muscles for this swim. My shoulder is back to one hundred per cent since Katie pushed me into the chairs, thank God. But I still need to make an effort to have every bit of blood pumping in the right spots before I hit the water. My stomach flutters, but I have to push through. I can’t let my nerves unsettle me. This is only the first hurdle, and I have so many more to jump while I’m here.

Wiping my sweaty palms on my suit, I step up to the starting block before the start signal goes off. My heart is racing so fast I can hardly think, but I keep my mind in check by thinking the same thing.Swim from the heart.Calming myself down, I step up on the starting block. As the ringing in my ears grows louder, I push it aside and breathe.

“Take your mark.”

Bending down, a lump forms in my throat. I swallow it down and focus all my thoughts on hearing that starting signal. It sounds, and I use all my strength to leap off the block and dive headfirst into the water. It hits my face like a breath of fresh air, and instantly, I light that match. Staying under for as long as I can, I swivel my body up and down like a dolphin gliding through the water.

When the need for air becomes too much, I rise to the top and take in a lung full of much-needed oxygen. I pull my arms over my body and slam them back down into the clear blue water. I’m pushing it. I need to push as hard as I can to qualify because I’m up against the best. The top swimmers in the world are here, so I need to pull out all the stops. I swim hard, so hard my body is already aching, but I don’t take in what’s happening around me. I don’t want to become distracted.

I dive down, hitting the wall and turn, swimming for the final fifty. My lungs are burning, but I’m giving it all I’ve got. Stroke for stroke through the water. My muscles freeze, but I push through the pain. I gasp every time I bob up through the water. The end is just in sight. I dive down, giving it my all as I lunge for the wall then slam the tiles. I bob up through the liquid, taking in much-needed air before I scan the board—Marta first, then me, then Katie.

I glance over at Katie, still trying to catch my breath. Marta celebrates as if she’s won the gold already, and I huff as Katie and I climb out of the pool. At least we both made it to the semis. Katie comes to my side and rolls her eyes before we walk back to the marshalling area. Suddenly, Katie and I are knocked apart as Marta pushes right between us, causing us both to nearly topple over. Luckily, we both caught our footing as we stare while watching Marta as she storms off.

“What a class act,” I say.

“I have a much stronger word to describe that. It too starts with c and ends in t,” Katie quips.

I gasp out a laugh as Katie turns and smiles at me.

We continue on our way to the marshalling area where Coby is lining up, so I quickly rush over to him, and he smiles at me. “Great swim, Butterfly.”

Shrugging, I purse my lips. “I can do better. But you smash it right now, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am, give me some good luck?”

Glancing around, I note the officials turning the other way, so I quickly peck his lips.

Coby smiles at me and exhales. “Just what I’ve needed all morning.”

“Electrify them, Eel!”

“Just for you.”

“400 Free, let’s go!” a marshal calls.

I raise my eyebrows. “You got this! I’ll be watching.”

“Cheer for me.”

I smile. “With everything I have.”

He winks and walks out. I turn and grab a seat right by the television in the marshalling area. 400m is an endurance race which you compete by swimming eight laps of the pool. It’s no wonder Coby is so fit. I watch as they summon him to the blocks. He waves to the home crowd. They cheer for him just like they did for me, and I smile as he takes off his shirt and reveals his well-defined stomach. I could seriously stand him in a corner and just stare at him all day.

My stomach flutters as his race is always a little different—he doesn’t have a semi like the rest of us. You have to qualify in this one to get through to the final. If he gets through, he’s in with a chance for a medal. And if you win a medal, then all sorts of things can happen, not just the glory of being an Olympic Champion, but contracts, sponsorship deals, you name it. All sorts of things come from winning a medal at the Olympic Games. It opens up doors to a whole new world, a completely amazing world. An elite club if you like. This race could mean so much for Coby.

He steps up to the starting block, and my stomach flips as I lean forward on my chair. This race is long, and so much can happen in just under four minutes and eight laps. The lead can change so many times—swimmers fade, then light the match. It’s all about who has the best endurance. And Coby has stamina. My cheeks heat at the memory as he bends down, taking his mark.

The room shifts to silence as the starting signal goes off, and he dives into the pool. My heart leaps into my throat as he stays under the water as is customary, but then he cuts through the water like a blade, finally coming up for air and turning his head to the right. He starts the windmill motion. His muscles flex and stretch with every movement—his body is built for swimming. His broad shoulders, his height, and his toned body—he’s the perfect specimen for an athlete.

He hits the wall in second place. I’m not worried. At this point, it’s only the first fifty. There’s another seven laps to go. I hate when the screen focuses in on one swimmer and not the whole bunch because then I can’t see Coby, and it makes me anxious, but soon the camera shot goes wide angle again, and I can see him. Taking a deep breath, I relax, watching as his perfect form and ease of stroke help him glide through the water effortlessly. He’s such a pro—there was never any doubt he’d make it here.

I get lost watching his muscles, stroke after stroke, turn after turn. He’s doing well, and I’m almost in a dazed state when the crowd fires up. I snap out of staring at his body, and scan the screen. He’s halfway back on his last fifty, and he’s neck and neck with another swimmer. Opening my eyes wide, I sit on the edge of my seat. He’s already made the final because, either way, he’s coming in first or second, but it would be great for him to qualify in first.

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