Here Comes the Flood Read online

  He got nines on the last dive. He stared at the scoreboard as the rest of the divers completed their final dives. A slap on his back startled him, and he turned to see Donnie, who must have snuck out of the coaches’ area. “Great job,” Donnie said. “That last dive was your cleanest. The scores should have been higher, but like I said, the judges have been sticklers.”

  “Okay.” Tim could hardly speak now. His body shook as everything hit him. He was done. He’d done all he could do. He’d dived with everything he had in him. Now he had to wait for the results. Isaac, his parents, and Pat were in the audience. Isaac was here. Pat was here.

  “Do not beat yourself up. I know you’re cataloging the things you did wrong, but I’m proud of you. No matter what happens.”

  Tim let out a breath. He opened his mouth to thank Donnie but couldn’t. He nodded instead.

  It was over now, and he’d made his body do some things he hadn’t thought it could do. Now he wanted that reward. He wanted the medal. He could taste it. But he hadn’t been flawless, and some of the other divers had been better.

  Donnie was right. Tim now mentally listed all the things he’d done wrong. He hadn’t pulled his tuck in hard enough in the fourth dive, hadn’t used his core to control his second dive, his feet had been too far apart in the first dive, he hadn’t gotten a strong enough push off the springboard in the fifth dive. A hundred things could have shaved points off, and now he was left with a score that was good by any measure but maybe not good enough to win a medal. Tim could have been better. Had he pushed hard enough? Had he really performed to the best of his abilities? Doubt began to creep in as he stared at the monitors.

  Perez’s last dive was nearly perfect, performed beautifully, everything positioned correctly, very little splash. Wao had a big enough lead over everyone else that he’d never be caught, even if he whiffed the last dive, which he definitely did not do.

  So Tim knew even before that last score was posted that he’d fallen to third place. Bronze medal.

  He couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed by that. Tim hadn’t realized how much he’d wanted the gold medal until he hadn’t won it.

  A wave of emotion suddenly consumed him. He’d done something amazing, but he hadn’t been perfect—Greg Louganis had won gold in both disciplines, after all, and had been perfect—and the strange catharsis that came with the competition ending hit Tim hard.

  He hadn’t been perfect, he hadn’t won gold, he’d fallen short. He could have done something else, could have tried harder, could have been better. The disappointment was crushing, but it shouldn’t have been. A bronze medal was still an accomplishment. So why did Tim feel so shitty? And panicky? He had to get away from everyone before he completely lost it.

  There were cameras everywhere, but Tim refused to cry in front of them, though he felt it coming. He wanted to duck into the locker room and hide his face, but he got stopped by Diane Bell—a gold-medal-winning diver in her own right—who wanted to know how winning bronze felt.

  “It feels great,” Tim said, hoping the audience at home would buy any tears or red eyes as a reaction to the chlorine in the pool or his joy at winning any medal. “That was… I mean, I’ve worked hard all week, I did those dives the best that I could, and, you know, Perez from Mexico, he’s just an amazing diver, and Wao was basically perfect, so… I mean, this was great, I feel great.”

  Tim didn’t think he sounded very convincing, but Diane nodded. “We’ll see you again for the platform final later in the week. What do you think your chances are there?”

  “I’ll repeat my gold-medal performance there,” Tim said, smiling, though he felt his control slipping.

  “We can’t wait for it. Congratulations!”

  Tim nodded and then scurried to the locker room before anyone else could stop him.

  ISAAC DIDN’T know a lot about diving. He knew the basic mechanics of it, sure. He knew the object was to take off from the board, do some tricks in the air, and then go into the water with as little splash as possible. But he didn’t know much about the judging criteria. And the dives happened so fast, he didn’t know how anyone could judge them.

  Well, he could tell when a diver missed. The American diver who was not Tim, some guy named Lance Steele—which sure sounded like a gay porn star name to Isaac—had totally missed his entries on a couple of dives, creating huge splashes. The whole audience went “Ooof” when that happened.

  “At least he’s pretty,” Katie said.

  He was pretty, supporting Isaac’s case that Lance could be a porn star. Lance was a tall blond guy who could not have been older than twenty. He had a boyish grin, which he flashed whenever a camera turned toward him, but his body was all man: defined pecs, a fucking eight pack, and really powerful thighs. The tiny bathing suit highlighted all of it.

  He had nothing on Tim, though, who was a fucking marvel as far as Isaac was concerned. Every time Tim went out on the end of that platform, Isaac took it all in. Tim’s proportions were a little off; he had a long torso but relatively short legs. He had thick thighs too, but they weren’t as bulky as some of the other divers’. He had nice, round muscles on his arms, and his chest and back rippled as he walked. He was all strength, not an ounce of fat on him, and his body looked baked to a golden tan. Isaac knew what was beneath that tiny bathing suit now, and he liked the whole package immensely. So the rest of the world could have Lance Steele and his porn star looks; Isaac would keep Tim.

  Between rounds five and six, Katie tried explaining the judging. “My sister’s a diver,” she said. “The judges can take off points for a lot of things. If a diver’s form isn’t perfect. If he doesn’t get far enough from the board when they take off, if there’s any splash.”

  “That Chinese guy Wao keeps getting tens,” Luke said.

  “Yeah. He’s the world champion. He’s basically unbeatable. Even if Tim Swan does this last dive perfectly, he’s too far behind to earn a gold. Unless Wao misses, which I doubt.”

  “Tim said he’s better at platform,” Isaac said.

  “That’s probably true. My sister dove in the Trials, so I watched him dive then. He’s really good. You can tell his form is amazing. He’s strong but also graceful, which is not a combination every diver has. Like, take Perez.” She gestured toward the diver currently on the board. “He’s a strong diver, and he executes everything well, but he’s not as pretty in the air as Swan, you know? So even though he gets vertical, there’s still quite a bit of splash. He’s not tightening up his form as much as he should. Not as much as Tim does, or the Chinese divers do.”

  Isaac nodded. “So you think Tim looks good?” He picked up his phone and used the zoom to try to see Tim, who lingered near the stairs up to the platform.

  Katie peeked over his shoulder at the phone screen. “What’s the obsession with Tim Swan about?” she asked in a whisper.

  “Isaac’s porking him,” said Luke.

  Katie’s jaw dropped.

  “I’m not…. That’s gross, Luke, come on.”

  “So you’re not sleeping with him?” Luke asked.

  “No, I am, I just wouldn’t have phrased it the way you did.”

  Katie put her hand on Isaac’s knee. “Wait a sec. I saw you eating with Swan in the cafeteria a few times, so I knew you knew each other, but I didn’t know you were, like, together.”

  “I just met him here in Madrid. We’ve been spending time together. And yes, some of that has been naked time, but it’s not…. He doesn’t want to go public yet, so you have to keep it down.”

  Katie nodded. “Sorry. I didn’t realize.”

  “You think Isaac would want to see diving if he didn’t have an… interest in one of the divers?” asked Luke.

  “I don’t know. He could like diving,” said Katie. “I didn’t know you were gay, Isaac. Weren’t you hooking up with that girl Julia for a while?”

  “I’m bi, and Luke’s basically right. I don’t think I’d want to come to diving if it wasn’
t for Tim. Who’s about to dive, so shut up.”

  Luke looked around. “You know, if any of these people overheard this conversation….”

  Isaac shook his head. “Tim said he wanted to wait to go public about our relationship until after he finishes competing so that any resulting media attention is not a distraction, which I get. I’ve been shaking hands with people for a fucking week, and they all look at me like they think I’m about to fall off the wagon, so I completely understand why Tim doesn’t want the publicity. Not to mention, he used to date a TV star and now hates the media. I want to respect his wishes.”

  Luke looked chastened. “Yeah. Lips are sealed, dude.”

  Isaac let out a sight. “At the same time, I will not be that broken up if people find out. I mean, just for the record, I’m not ashamed of our relationship. It’s the best thing that’s happened to me during the Games, and that includes all the medals, you know?”

  Katie poked at Isaac’s bicep. “Who are you and what have you done with our Isaac? I’ve never seen you this sentimental.”

  “I like him,” Isaac said.

  “You love him,” said Luke with a lot of eye rolling.

  “Hey, man, you’re the one who said I should go for it.” But Isaac didn’t bother to deny it.

  Luke laughed. “I’m just giving you a hard time.”

  “He snuck into the locker room after I won the 200 IM final. I wonder if I could do the same now.”

  Katie elbowed him. “Six gold medals. They should let you do whatever you want.”

  “Stop talking.”

  Tim walked out to the end of the springboard. The dive looked beautiful in the air. Tim launched himself off the springboard, pulled himself into a tight pike, and rotated before kicking out into a straight position, pulling his arms into place to twist, and then straightening his arms to enter the water. It looked pretty dang flawless to Isaac, both powerful and graceful as Katie had said, and he entered the water with very little splash.

  Isaac was on his feet cheering for it before Tim even surfaced from the water. So were a group of people a few rows in front of where Isaac, Luke, and Katie sat. These were presumably Tim’s parents, a middle-aged couple wearing sweatshirts. Tim’s mother glanced back at where Isaac was hollering, and Isaac saw her sweatshirt said Team Swan. Cute.

  Isaac wanted to be on Team Swan.

  He’d been thinking about introducing himself the whole competition, but he wasn’t sure what he’d say. “Hi, Mrs. Swan, I’m the man currently banging your son” didn’t seem to convey the right message.

  But man, Isaac’s desire to run out toward the pool to pull Tim into a tight hug was strong. He ached to put his arms around Tim, to congratulate him for diving so well, for… well, hell, for winning a medal. Isaac looked at the leader board and mentally did the math. Perez and Wao still had to dive, but that score guaranteed Tim at least a third-place finish. That would give him his second medal. Isaac’s chest swelled with pride. That’s my man, he thought. I’m with that beautiful man who defies gravity and physics to do something amazing, and he’ll be getting his second medal of these Games, and he’s mine.

  Perez dove next, and he looked great while doing it, a bit more elegant than he’d looked in the previous rounds. Wao’s last dive was, of course, textbook, and he got the requisite high score because of it, securing himself the gold. The final scores went up on the big board, showing that Tim Swan had won the bronze. The crowd cheered wildly, most of the spectators on their feet, clapping and hooting for the winners.

  Katie said, “Hey, isn’t that guy that CW actor? What the hell is his name? Patterson Wood?”

  Isaac’s heart stopped. He followed Katie’s gaze to a tall guy with his hands stuffed into the kangaroo pockets of his Team USA sweatshirt. Isaac didn’t recognize him—not that he would—but if Katie was right, that was… alarming.

  “Can’t be,” said Isaac.

  “Do you even own a TV, Flood?”

  “Yeah. I even turn it on sometimes. But… Patterson Wood is Tim’s ex. What would he be doing here?”

  Katie raised both eyebrows.

  “No way,” said Isaac, not even sure what conclusion she’d drawn. Tim had been pretty clear things were over with that scumbag, hadn’t he? Could Patterson Wood be here to get Tim back? Would Tim go back? Tim had been in love with that douchebag once, and Isaac certainly knew the pull of something dangerous and completely wrong for him better than anyone. Not to mention, Pat could offer Tim things Isaac couldn’t, such as reliable sobriety and the sort of fame that ensured better endorsement deals and sponsorships and modeling gigs.

  He wondered if Tim knew if Pat was here. If that even was Pat. And if Tim had known, why hadn’t he said anything?

  He turned his attention back toward the event. After some fanfare at the edge of the pool, Isaac glanced up at the big screen, which showed a close-up of Tim’s face, and he looked upset.

  Oh fuck.

  “Something’s wrong,” Isaac said.

  “What makes you say that?” asked Katie.

  “He looks like he’s about to cry.” Isaac gestured at the screen.

  “Oh, yeah. He—well, he’s gone now.”

  The screen showed Wao’s coach and less-successful teammate hugging him as Wao laughed.

  “He could be injured,” Isaac said. “What if he’s injured?”

  “He looks fine, physically,” said Luke, pointing to where Tim was hurrying toward the locker room. “He’s not limping or anything.”

  “No, but… oh God. What if something’s wrong?”

  “Isaac, calm down,” said Katie. “He looks okay. But even if he isn’t, security won’t let you down there, not when the competition is wrapping up. See those barriers they put up? Even Isaac Flood doesn’t have the power to get past them. Hell, most of the media can’t get past that barrier over there. You’ll have to wait until later to talk to him.”

  Isaac knew she was right, but his heart pounded anyway. He pulled out his phone and texted Tim.

  I know ur busy, but r u ok?

  He didn’t expect an answer. He lingered in the stands with Luke and Katie. They chatted for a few minutes about possibly going out for dinner somewhere in the city now that they could be a little more lax about their diets. Luke got out his phone and pulled up some Spanish restaurant app he’d downloaded.

  Isaac recognized that he was starting to spiral. He’d long had these moments when his anxiety got the better of him and his thoughts began to swirl around and grow and fester until he was no longer rooted in reality. In the past, he drank to get those thoughts to stop. He’d worked with his doctor to come up with some strategies for when he caught himself in one of these patterns, and one of them was to focus on something else going on around him—making dinner plans, Tim’s shiny new medal—and not on his impending panic that something was wrong with Tim and that Tim’s ex was right fucking here in the stands, perhaps because he and Tim were not so broken up after all. Why else would this guy fly halfway around the world if not to see Tim?

  He bit the inside of his cheek and looked at Luke. He took a few deep breaths. The stands started to thin out, but Tim’s mother turned around again. “You’re Isaac Flood,” she shouted up at him.

  “Yeah,” Isaac said, swallowing. Had Tim told his parents about their relationship? Isaac had barely said anything to his own mother.

  “Congratulations,” Tim’s mother said. “We couldn’t get tickets to the last night of swimming, but we watched on TV from the hotel. That was a spectacular race. Timmy said he saw it in person.” She was a striking woman with a heart-shaped face and black hair like Tim’s pulled up into a bushy ponytail. She was clearly Tim’s Filipino half. Tim’s father was a good-looking white guy with salt-and-pepper hair and a mustache.

  “He… yeah. Um. It was pretty great.” Isaac never knew what to say when people congratulated him, and his heart was pounding from his near-spiral. “Thank you.”

  Tim’s parents stepped up a couple
of the risers to get closer to where Isaac stood. “That’s our son Tim who just won the bronze.”

  “Yeah, I know. Team Swan.” Isaac gestured toward the Swans’ sweatshirts.

  Tim’s mom looked down. “Oh yeah. Have you ever seen Tim dive before?”

  “No,” said Isaac. He felt stymied, not knowing what he could say. If they felt it was necessary to explain who Tim was, they likely didn’t know Isaac and Tim even knew each other. “Uh, he looked great.”

  “Yeah,” said Luke. “Pass on our congratulations. I’m Luke and this is Katie. We’re also swimmers.”

  “We decided to stick around and see some of the sports for ourselves,” said Katie.

  “That’s great! It must be nice to do that now that the pressure is off you guys.”

  Isaac looked around for Tim. He was nowhere in sight. He’d probably gone to change into his official warm-up suit to accept his medal. Then Isaac’s pocket buzzed. He grabbed his phone.

  I’m ok. Emotions got the best of me. Did I cry on camera?

  Isaac smiled. While half listening to Mrs. Swan, he texted back, A little. I think I’m the only one who noticed.

  Then he added, I’m talking to your parents right now.

  Tim sent back a shocked-face emoji. He added, I didn’t tell them about u.

  I gathered, texted Isaac.

  Isaac smiled at the Swans. Mr. Swan said, “We’re staying for the medal ceremony, of course.”

  “We couldn’t be prouder,” said Mrs. Swan. “He’s diving again later in the week. The springboard isn’t even his best event, and he won a bronze.”

  “Maybe we’ll check that out too,” said Isaac. He’d already bought a ticket to that event, in fact.

  His phone buzzed then. Thinking it was Tim texting, he looked at it, but it was actually Adam calling. “I gotta take this. Sorry. Lovely to meet you, though!”

  Isaac moved to the aisle, away from where people were chatting. “Adam. Hi.”