Hold My Breath(56)
I’ve never worked harder in the pool, yet every day, I feel like I could do it all again. My muscles just don’t seem to grow tired. My body is running on hate, and while it’s bringing me results in the one part of my life that still feels right, it’s ruining all others. I was mean to Amber in the locker room yesterday, and I heard from one of the other girls that my shortness made her cry. A part of me wants to tell her to toughen up, because honestly, if I make her cry then she’s going to have her hands full when we face other countries. But that’s never been who I am. I’ve always been the glue. At Valpo, I was the spark that every other girl mentioned in her interviews—the leader, the friend to turn to, the inspiration.
I feel about as inspiring as a motivational speaker high on Sudafed. My insides just feel cold—frozen and jaded. It’s cyclical, too, because the more upset I get over how I’m acting, the angrier I get about the reason—Evan had a baby. Evan cheated. Will lied.
Will’s kept his distance, working just as hard, but swimming opposite hours of me outside of our camp. Our only conversation was yesterday, when he asked me to be here at three today to take him to pick up Tanya and her son for their trip. I promised I’d be here, and then I left before I could simmer in that reality with him any longer. I know he waited while I left; I felt his eyes on me until my car pulled away from the club. It hurts to hurt him, but it stings just as much to trust him and let myself understand.
Will agreed to the interviews, too, and just as I told him he would be, my father was accepting of his “emergency time off.” Part of me wants to blow the lid off the emergency to my dad too, but the hate hasn’t made me that vengeful yet. I can feel its fingers around my heart, though. I think, perhaps, if telling my parents wouldn’t lead to them asking me questions—consoling me—then I would. I’m barely okay with the voices in my head for now.
Both Will and Duncan are waiting out front as I roll up to drive him to the airport. Will is carrying nothing more than a backpack, so I don’t bother to pop the trunk as I pull up next to them and wait for Will to get inside. He says a few words to his uncle, then gives him a hug before walking behind my car toward his rental, and I shove my car into park and get ready to protest.
“Goddammit!” I growl through my teeth.
“Will, get in the car,” I start to yell the second I step outside, but Duncan walks around the back to meet me just as Will shuts the door and cranks the engine on his car.
“Is he seriously trying to leave without me? Why didn’t he just go before I got here? Gahhhhh,” I growl, tilting my face to the sky and folding my fingers behind my neck.
“He needs to drive, Maddy,” Duncan says. I lower my chin, my mouth shut tight as I look at him. He reaches forward for my elbows, and my hands unlink, falling until they’re in Duncan’s. “He didn’t think about it until he saw the size of your car. You all are going to need more room, so he needs to drive. He told me to tell you to just park in the spot he leaves, and you can drive our car back here when you’re done.”
My eyes squint, and I swing my vision from Duncan to the back of Will’s head, finally letting go of Duncan’s hold and stretching my arms out to my sides.
“Why didn’t he just tell me that?” I huff.
“Oh, well, that’s because the two of you are acting like children,” Duncan says. My eyes close on him more and my mouth curves down. I fold my arms against my chest tightly, like a shield, and tilt my head at his unfair accusation.
“I’m glad you’re going with him, though, Maddy,” he keeps talking as if my reaction is meaningless. “I think you’re going to see a lot of things differently after today. And if you need to talk to anyone when you get back, I’ll be around.”
His eyes linger on mine, and the tension in my arms and face lessens. With a soft smile on his face, Duncan reaches forward and squeezes my right shoulder, and my eyes go to the touch of his hand. He takes a few steps away until he’s again standing on the walkway in front of the club. I glance to Will, to the back of his head, his hands propped on the wheel and his eyes looking at me through the rearview mirror. With a short breath, I turn and climb into my car, circling around and trading spots with Will. I grab my purse and open the passenger door of his car, sliding inside and making eye contact with Duncan one more time. His mouth curves a hint, but it isn’t a happy smile. Whatever message he’s trying to send with it, though, I raise my hand and press my fingertips on the window just as he lifts his to say goodbye while Will pulls us out of the lot and onto the roadway.
The inside of the car is soundless for more than an hour, and eventually the monotony of the tires over the seams in the highway push me over the edge. I exhale and shift in my seat, giving in and looking at Will. I don’t know what I expected…no…that’s not true. I expected a fight. I expected him to look just as angry as I feel, to huff at me, and spit out a “What?” so I could yell something. I thought he’d engage, but now that I really look at him, I see how wrong I was.
His hands haven’t left their position on the wheel. His eyes are glued open on the road, and even his blinking comes in regular patterns, as if he’s counting down to the time between each one, markers for distance traveled and time spent in this car alone with me—with me and the truth. He’s not going to fight back. He’ll just take it, whatever I dish, and it makes me want to scream because Will is not a beaten dog. He’s my drive! He was always that person, but what’s sitting here with me now—what’s left after everything I know now—is just a shell.