The Takeoff

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I stayed the night. Both of us woke up early in the morning, right as the sun started to hit the ocean outside and break through the window. I woke up from force of habit from morning practices, Pilar woke up because I moved out of bed.

She stared at me with bleary, squinty eyes, watching my every move. I had a feeling she was waiting to see if I'd run. Something in me wanted to break the tension.

"I still have the same phone number if you do."

Pilar scoffed, "I'm blocked."

Oh yeah, that's right.

"I'll unblock you," I shrugged. She scoffed again but then fell back into bed with a puff of laughter.

"It's the same number."

I kind of liked how casual we were being, just as casual as we acted years ago. I jerked my neck in a nod and patted my hair down to look presentable.

"I'm gonna hit the gym."

Pilar waved me off, "I'll text you later. I get ready for work around noon,"

Once upon a time Pilar woke up early to workout with me.

"I have some breaks but really I'm most free at night after the last show. I'd like to see you again. We should catch up on the past five years. I'd like to learn who you are now."

Something soured in my stomach. I told Pilar I'd wait for her text and I left her room.

Pilar texted me between shows in the afternoon asking to meet up again tonight. I ignored her for a bit, not wanting to seem eager, and also I was busy exploring the ship. I spent my morning working out then carb loading at the breakfast buffet and then after I walked around the deck with a drink in my hand. The ship had stores and a casino and activities every hour, but doing it all alone wasn't as exciting. I couldn't deny it, seeing Pilar would be the highlight of my day.

We met up out on the deck that night. It was chillier with the wind whipping through my hair and dress. When I looked out it was pitch black as far as I could see, the sky and sea indistinguishable.

We stood side by side leaning against the railing, looking out into the nothingness.

"How was work?"

Pilar hummed, "Good. Same as always. It's always a fun time."

We talk more about work, about her coworkers, her routine, how she had once pushed for change in choreography, to do better dives she argued she could do.

Talking about diving used to be natural, routine, for us. She'd talk about what our coach was pushing her to do and I'd talk about how that was okay because I was doing more. In retrospect that must have been frustrating for her, but back then I had intended for it to be motivating. All I wanted was for us to be at the Olympics together.

I tried to avoid talking about diving, only giving nods and hums as Pilar talked about her new life here as a cruise performer. I didn't offer anything about my own diving, and therefore couldn't share much about my life since all I did was eat, breathe, sleep and dive. I think Pilar would have been interested to know, but something about telling her about my life as an Olympian felt too close to rubbing salt in the wound. My wounds, as much as hers.

Pilar must have been bubbling up inside to address it because she veered the subject, "Are we ever gonna talk about it?"

I played dumb, "Talk about what?"

Pilar gave me a rueful look, lips pursed, "The last time we saw each other? You left me."

She turned away from me to look out into the black abyss. She continued before I could try to defend myself, "I'm kinda glad you did though. I don't know if I'd be who I am now if you didn't, and I like who I am now. You seem to have gotten everything you dreamed of too, right?"

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