She's back ~ L. Hamilton

86. | A Small Version Of Myself

Two hours until I leave and head to Wimbledon. Me and Daniel were lying on my bed, the bed still made and our shoes still on, the Netflix crew were sitting at the bottom of the bed, and we were talking to them, Daniel was making jokes of course.

"Writing any songs about this Del?" Daniel asks

"Maybe"

"Can I hear them?"

I respond by bringing a pillow down across his face

A knock sounded at the door from the foyer.

"Who's that?" Daniel asked, scanning the room like we're supposed to be missing someone.

I shrug, and stand up and walk over to the door.

A worker from the hotel smiled at me as I swung open the door

"Delaney Ricciardo?" He asked

"Yeah"

"This was delivered for you" he says, holding out a giant box, it was thin, but I needed both arms to hold it up.

"Thank you" I say, he nods and walks away and I shut the door. I drop the box onto the circular table in the middle of the foyer.

"Who was it?" Daniels asks, coming around the corner

"Delivery" I mumble.

I reach, pulling open the white ribbon that's wrapped neatly around the box.

I pull open the lid. All I can see is the packaging paper and a card sitting on top of it.

"Oh my fricken goodness" Daniel mumbles, pulling open the paper as I read the card.

I feel myself holding back a smile as I read the card and move to see what's in the box.

Oh my fucking god.

It was a body suit - kind of

It was like a bejeweled white bodysuit, with sequins and diamonds encrusted into it. It looked heavy but I was surprised as I picked it up, how light the material was. The sequins weren't scratchy, the diamonds didn't stick out, the material was lightweight.

"This must have cost a fortune" Daniel says from beside me "this material isn't cheap and the way the diamonds are engraved into it aren't cheap either"

"It's beautiful" I mumbled. I literally couldn't look away from it, it was stunning

"Who the hell sent this to you?" Daniel says, picking up the card off the table where I had left it "Liam sent you this" he exclaims "where is that man getting the money, didn't he also send you that necklace for the F1 charity event"

"Yeah" I lie, a pang going through me at the feeling of lying to my brother

"Where does he get the money for something like this? You'd swear he was a formula 1 driver or something" Daniel jokes, but I have to hold myself back from cringing. "Well, are you going to wear today?"

"Of course" I say, a smile spreading across my face as I turn and head into the bathroom to change into it.

****

In the entrance hall at the centre court at Wimbledon, there's an inscription just above the double doors that lead out to the grass.

It is from the poem "If-" by Rudyard Kipling.

IF YOU CAN MEET WITH TRIUMPH AND DISASTER

AND TREAT THOSE TWO IMPOSTORS JUST THE SAME

It has never resonated with me. Every time I have walked onto the courts at Wimbledon, I have considered triumph to be the best feeling and athlete can feel. And when I have held it in my hands, it has not felt like an impostor at all.

But as Daniel and I walk into the hall this morning, he says 'I've always loved that quote"

"You know" I say as we head down the hallway, my gear bag swung over my shoulder "I read the whole poem years ago, to try to understand the inscription better. But it didn't help. I do remember thinking the first line of the poem made more sense to me than that line. But now I can't even remember what it is"

Daniel smiles "If you can keep your head when all about you, are loosing theirs and blaming it on you"

I look at him "Yeah, that's it exactly. Did you swallow a poetry book or something?"

But he just shrugs slightly "I loved poetry in school"

"Wait, really?"

"Yes. I convinced Dad to let me stay in school for an extra four months just so I could finish the poetry course"

"Oh" I say. "I didn't know that. That's cool"

I never officially finished high school, never set foot on a college campus, same goes for Daniel, but he only left school at Christmas of his last year. Meanwhile I left two by the time I was 15.

I am convinced sometimes that, despite all my accomplishments in the athletic world, the lack of knowledge from school shows in ways I'm unaware of.

"Not sure how cool it is. It doesn't often come in handy that I know the entirety of 'If—'by Rudyard Kipling"

"Well, I still think it's impressive," I say as we come to a stop a couple of steps in front of the glass doors that lead out onto the court.

"All right" Daniel says, "I'll see you from the players' box"

"Okay"

"Good luck, Del" he says, brining me in for a hug

I cannot help but smile. "Thank you" I mumble

I start to walk away, but then I turn back.

"Daniel" I say, calling to him "Thank you for being here. And for supporting me in this, from the beginning. And throughout this whole year. Even though it's crazy"

Daniel smiles. "Do you know what part of 'If—' is actually relevant right now? To this moment? 'If you can make one heap of all your winnings / And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, / And lose, and start again at your beginnings / And never breathe a word about your loss"

He must be messing with me. Surely he knows he's just described my greatest fear.

But no, I can tell from the look on his face that he sincerely thinks that I'm that brave, that I am doing this because I am okay with losing big. Not because I am terrified of losing at all.

And it stuns me silent, for a moment: just how vast the gap is between who I am and how people see me.

I am so much smaller than the Delaney Ricciardo in my brothers head.