You’re not even competing and yet you’re still the first one here I think to myself with a slight chuckle as I make my way into the pool area. Taking off my yoga pants I walk straight to the steps that will lead me to the ten meter. With each step I climb i feel the heavy burden of repressing nearly every feeling I’ve had since I crashed and burned at trials wafting over me. As much as i pretended I was completely unfazed by everything, the thought that everyone except me would be competing was killing me.
Standing on the edge of the platform I take a deep breath, the sweet smell of chlorine filling my nose. Without a second of thought or hesitation I leap; not doing any dive just falling and screaming at the top of my lungs the entire way down. I hit the water, a giant splash flies upward, releasing every last bit of negativity and frustration I felt about the Olympics. The impact of hitting the water doesn’t bother me anymore, I’ve done it so many times in the past that it was nothing. To cope with stressful situations some people need to cry, some cut, some write, some draw, but not me: I scream and fling myself off the ten meter platform. It’s been my secret for years; it’s why everyone think’s I’m so strong and never used to cry: if I’m having a crap day I just go down to the pool, jump off, and move on with my life.
Staying under the water for a few moments I blow bubbles of out my nose pushing the tiniest remains of hate out of my being. As the last one reaches the surface and pops I propel myself upwards. A new found sense of calmness and acceptance floods over me; I smile as I pull myself over the pool’s edge. I just lay there, eyes closed,listening to the very faint sound of the water settling.
As the rush from jumping begins to wear off I stand up and start getting ready for the long day of training ahead of me. Grabbing a towel I wipe off the small beads of water that lay on my body. Flipping my head upside down I run my fingers through my hair trying to comb through the curly mess of bed head that I call my hair. Just as I’m about to finish twisting it up into its usual tight bun a pair of strong hands hands wrap around me from behind causing a shiver to run up my spine and the hair to fall out of my hands.
“Hello beautiful” Tom says before leaning down and gently kissing my shoulder.
“Why must you always do that?” I ask turning around in his arms. I get up on my toes and give him a quick peck on the lips.
“Do what?” Tom asks innocently. Taking one hand off of my back he reaches up and toys with one of my curls. A light sigh escapes my lips; trying to explain to him was a lost cause it was very obvious he knew what he was doing as he leans down once again kissing a little bit higher up, this time on my neck.
“Tom, everyone else is going to be getting here soon” I try to push him off as he continues kissing me: placing small ones all over my collar bones making sure to leave no area of skin untouched.
“Then I guess we’ll just have to go somewhere more private” He mumbles against my skin. A cheeky smirk crosses his face as his hands gain a grasp on my hips lifting me up into the air. Out of instinct my legs involuntarily wrap around his waist.
“You have tr-”
Tom cuts me off with his lips forcefully crashing against mine. Without breaking the kiss he carries me off to the men’s changing room. Before we get behind closed doors his hands are already yanking at the straps of my bathing suit: a sense of urgency rushing over him.
Placing me down on solid ground Tom pins me up against the nearest wall. The butterflies are let loose to wreak their havoc in my stomach; each touch and sweet caress of his hands sending an electric spark through my body.
I wanted him, I needed him and yet I couldn’t help but be in an internal battle with logic. This isn’t the smartest idea Laci-Rae: the guys could walk in- for god’s sake Chris could walk in! But that makes it exciting and dangerous, and lets not forget so much hotter, right? Hey stop that you remember what happened last time there’s no way you could forget that? You don’t want to end up like that again, do you? Stop it! Why are you doing this to me right now; I mean can you just shut up and look at him for a second? Laci-Rae get your act together! Can you please just stop to think about this: do you really want to start this side of your’s and Tom’s relationships again in the boy’s changing room? How do you know he’s even prepared for this? I could just picture the inner me cockily raising a disapproving eyebrow; she wasn’t going to back down.
