The Melancholy of Cassandra-Marie

(12)

 "Hi Miss Strauss, I'm reporting from NBC. I just have a question for you — now that you've won a couple of medals, what's your next move? Are you thinking about retiring, or are you going to keep training; possibly for a second Olympic games four years from now?"

"Well..." I speak into the microphone. Cameras are flashing, people are staring at me, awaiting an answer. More judgment is going to be passed on me now than it ever has been before. Pull it together Cassandra. You can do this. "I'll come right out and say I'm absolutely looking forward to a second Olympic Games. I would love to do that, but I've hit a little bit of a... bump... in the road recently, so that's been making my planning and future training difficult at the moment. I'm going to have other responsibilities a few months from now, so I currently don't have a one hundred percent solid answer for you."

She looks at me with questioning eyes.

"You look like you need me to elaborate on that." I laugh a little. A few people in the back chuckle as well. "Thank you very much for asking this question, by the way. This is an excellent segway into something I have to get off my chest today."

I just breathe for a few moments, trying to keep cool. I'm so nervous I could pass out. My eyes make their way over to my coach and teammates, who just try to look back at me with encouragement and understanding. I expected to feel nothing less than scared here. My hands shake. I ready myself for vulnerability, and accept what's probably going to come next. I'm afraid, but I've been just fine after feeling that way before. I have to get this out of my system.

"I-I made a very questionable decision a short while back. I'm not going to go into any detail as to what happened, and I'm not going to disclose any information about the other person involved. I made an irresponsible mistake, and I understand the consequences of my actions. My health took a very bizarre turn while in Kiev. I wasn't feeling well the majority of the time... and so I was brought to the doctor. And... I found out that I'm expecting a baby."

A few people in the front row look at me in shock. A woman in the middle of the crowd covers her mouth, looking at me with a cocktail mixture of disappointment, awe, and maybe even a drop or two of contempt.

"I understand any criticism you may have for me, and I accept that any sponsorships can be taken from me. My benefits I have may be removed. I understand that this is very unexpected, and a thoughtless thing for me to have done. I take full responsibility for this accident."

A few reporters in the front row start scribbling notes down furiously. The rate of flashing cameras increases dramatically. More people are now shouting my name than ever. They blurt their questions out, demonstrating that the vast majority stopped listening the moment I said I was expecting a child. They question me over and over — how far along are you? How have you been feeling? What's the sex? Who is the father? Is it Louis Romanovsky, Honorati's son?

While in my mind, I know I am six weeks, struggling with a nasty case of heartburn, and that Louis is the father. But the world doesn't need to know all of that. I don't need anyone with cameras following me around more than they have been in the past few months.

"Thank you everyone, that's all I had to say." I say over the rambunctious crowd. I step away from the mic and sit, feeling relieved. I breathe out quietly, closing my eyes and shutting the world out. Though the room is hectic, I sense in my own body that serenity has started kicking in.