Olympic Village by Devyn Forrest

Author:Devyn Forrest [Forrest, Devyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, new adult, bully romance
Publisher: Devyn Forrest
Published: 2020-05-27T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Clinton and Chloe both raced in their backstroke events the following morning. Theo and I met out in front of the swimming pool and entered with the other tourists. As we walked in silence, I heard several of the onlookers mention Zed’s name.

“Can you imagine? Coming all this way and then someone whacks you...”

“Do they have any idea who might have done this?”

“No. No leads. Poor kid. He’s only eighteen years old, though. Maybe he can come back someday?”

“It’s so hard to say. Four years is a long time. Lots of damage to your joints and bones.”

Theo squeezed my hand and led me to the American section. Chloe was on first, and I watched as she waited in line. Her legs were long and muscular beneath her suit, and she stretched out her feet, wagging them around at the bottom. Her cap and goggles made her look alien-like, almost cruel. When the first alarm sounded, she and the other racers leaped into the water and then grabbed the starting block from below. I couldn’t believe how many times I had seen her race this event now. How could it be any different from any other time? And yet, of course, I knew that it must have felt like an enormous weight—the Olympic backstroke event.

When the beep sounded, Chloe sprung back into the water and sliced through it swiftly. The funny thing about swimming is, if they’re going fast, they really look like they’re using almost no effort. Chloe looked like she was walking in the park. The others—all the fastest women backstroker’s in the world—looked similar—just eight girls out for a stroll.

Chloe inched ahead of her top competitor, a girl from Brazil. Slowly, after the first flip-turn and then the second, she surged ahead. I cried her name until my voice sounded hoarse. Theo joined me, and we laughed, tears in our eyes, as Chloe smashed her hand into the wall first. I whipped into Theo and hugged him hard, frantically. This was the first bit of good news we’d had in what seemed like a long time. Chloe ripped her swim cap off and waved to the camera, and the announcer said something about her “winning American smile.” I guess, in the eyes of the world, we were always some kind of cliché.

After Chloe received her medal and got her picture taken, Theo and I waited about a half-hour more for Clinton’s event. He appeared from the locker room like some kind of beast. His muscles flexing, his obliques and abs ripped as they inched their way down toward the slick black of his swimsuit, where a bulge appeared there between his legs. I squeezed Theo’s hand hard as Clinton performed the same action. He dropped into the pool and attached himself to the little handles below the block.

But this time, good luck wasn’t on our side. Clinton bucked back, competing neck in neck with a guy from Norway. When he had been near the block, I had assessed him.

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