It was late by the time I got home from the Nationals, my stomach full of Thai food and my head full of gym talk after going out with Monique, Pip and Russell.
The house was dark but for the pale flicker of the TV at the end of the hall. I wasn’t ready to face Mum yet.
When I’d told her the date for my swim against Levi, we’d both smiled at the way it all fitted so perfectly – a good win in the pool to rekindle my competitive fire, then watching the Nationals to set it blazing.
But now? I guess the closest thing to a fire inside my belly was a sense of drifting smoke. Everything that had once seemed so clear now seemed fuzzy and complicated. I was proud of Monique and really happy for her, but at the same time those feelings confused me. Now I felt further than ever from going back to gym. A few months before, seeing Monique blitz would have made me sick with envy. But now I felt real pride. She’d come first on vault and third on floor. Plus third overall! She’d done it. Made it. Won.
But how could that feel so good for me? I was glad to have moved beyond my old ruthlessness and jealousy, but without it I didn’t know what to do. I still didn’t know how to get back the old focus on my training. Not with so many things to get my head around first.
For a moment I stood outside my bedroom door, then I stepped across the hall.
Carefully I opened Samantha’s door and peered into the darkness, trying to pick up a hint of breathing. Two seconds later I switched on the light and sat down on her empty bed. I hoped that this wasn’t one of those nights when she stayed out clubbing forever. I really wanted to talk to her.
The room still smelt of oil paints, though much fainter. The painting on the easel had been mostly covered with a towel but deep shadowed storm clouds were visible in a strip down one side.
I sighed and lay back on the bed, imagining what it would be like to be Samantha. Her pillow felt softer than mine.
The next thing I knew, someone was placing a hand gently on my shin. ‘Jade? Your bedroom’s thattaway.’
‘Oh . . . ah . . .’ I yawned and cleared my throat. ‘Sorry.’ I cleared my throat again and shifted to sit with my back against the bed head. I stretched my arms up lazily.
‘So how were the Nationals?’ Samantha asked, hanging a jacket in the wardrobe.
‘Good. Bit weird though,’ I said and snuggled my back into the pillow. ‘Almost made me feel like a kid again, watching the stuff they could do.’
‘Well . . . you can do all that stuff too.’
I was quiet while she peeled off her work clothes – first skirt, next tights, and last her white shirt.
‘So, how’s your painting going?’ I asked.
Samantha stopped to look at me, mid-step into her pyjama shorts. Then she kept stepping. ‘It’s not finished yet,’ she said. ‘I’m racing to get it done before our exhibition.’
I shifted again. ‘Do I get an invite?’ I’d never been to one of Samantha’s exhibitions before.
Samantha snorted. ‘Suddenly developed an interest in art, have you?’
I shrugged. The way I felt about art hadn’t changed, but she had missed my point. ‘No, really. When is it?’ I pushed.
‘It’s next Friday, ah . . .’ Samantha peered at her calendar, ‘the sixteenth.’
‘Oh . . .’ I said and looked down. I knew that date well. ‘I’ve got a swimming comp the same day.’
Samantha shrugged and sat at the end of the bed, crossing her hypermobile legs. ‘So, what’s going on, Jade?’
I yawned and rubbed my neck. ‘Nothing really. I wasn’t ready to go to bed and . . .’ I glanced at the door. ‘Is Mum still watching TV?’
Samantha looked up at the ceiling and laughed. ‘Geez, you two!’ She smiled at me and shook her head again. ‘Mum sat me down last week and drilled me about you, you know.’
‘Really?’ I was only a bit surprised.
Samantha nodded. ‘Yeah, I think you’ve unsettled her a bit with all this swimming . . .’ She looked at me sideways and frowned. ‘What’s this about a race against some guy?’
I swallowed and took a breath. ‘I dunno. I got all worked up about some sexist remarks and ended up racing him in the pool.’
Samantha let out a snort, then slapped her hand over her mouth and giggled quietly. ‘Bet he hated it when you won!’
I just nodded. I didn’t want to go there.
Sam knew better than to push it. She shook her head and sighed. ‘Geez, you’re one-of-a-kind, Jade. I’d never even think of doing something like that, Supergirl!’
I scrunched up my nose. ‘You hate that nickname.’ It was a statement more than a question.
For a moment we looked at each other as the smell of long-ago arguments wafted back to us.
‘Well, if you must know,’ Samantha said eventually. ‘It was you I hated . . . not the nickname.’ She chuckled like a wise old woman telling a joke. ‘Do you remember that gym comp years ago, when Mum first called you Supergirl, the one where you won that trophy? You’d just come in and absolutely blitzed. I’d been doing gym for two years longer than you! And gawd . . . the way Mum just went on and on about how you’d won.’ She shook her head and sighed, but she didn’t seem angry – just glad it was a long time ago.
None of this was a surprise to me, of course. But at the same time, I felt as though I was seeing it all fresh. For the first time ever, I could see the whole picture, not just my little six-year-old world.
I shook my head and started stammering, ‘Well, I don’t blame you for hating me. I mean . . . I didn’t think—’
Samantha talked over me. ‘Oh, I didn’t hate you for long! After a while I decided that it wasn’t your fault. That’s when I started hating Mum.’
All those years of fighting and yelling between Samantha and Mum suddenly shifted in my mind.
‘Yeah . . . no wonder—’ I started.
But Samantha cut in again. ‘Don’t worry about it, Jade. All that’s past history. It’s not really an issue for me now.’
‘Yeah . . . but, I mean, that’s pretty cruel isn’t it. Treating one of us like the chosen one.’ The more I thought about it the more worked up I felt. And it was Mum who was making me angry.
Samantha laughed, her cheeks bright. ‘You know what, Jade? These days I’m actually glad that it was you and not me. It meant I was free to . . . I don’t know . . . just be myself. I never would have coped with all the pressure Mum puts on you. You carry the name Supergirl way better than I ever could have.’
I swallowed and look down at my hands. I’d spent long enough feeling bad for letting Mum down. Now I felt like I was letting Samantha down too.
‘Hey . . .’ Her arm draped around my shoulders. ‘I know your knee and everything . . . feels like the worst thing that could ever have happened. But it doesn’t have to be so bad, Jade.’ She paused. ‘You’re human! That’s all it means.’
Samantha squeezed my shoulder and whispered, ‘It’s okay to be human, Supergirl.’
I woke up late the next morning, though not as late as Samantha. If sleeping in was an Olympic event then Sam would have been a gold medallist.
Mum was in the kitchen when I wandered in, scratching my neck and yawning. Well half of her was at least – her bum and legs were sticking out of the fridge, wiggling.
‘What’s wrong with the fridge?’ I asked, sitting down and eyeing the clutter of bottles and packages on the kitchen table, and choosing a jar of pickled onions.
‘Nothing,’ came Mum’s muffled voice, then the rest of her appeared – pink gloves and neatly pulled back hair, the picture of housekeeping perfection. ‘Just doing a bit of spring cleaning,’ she said briskly. Then she frowned at the jar in my hand. ‘You might want to check the use-by date on that.’
I glanced vaguely at the label then dived in for a second onion. They tasted okay to me.
‘So, how did it go?’ Mum pulled off her gloves and wiped her forehead with the back of a hand.
‘Awesome,’ I said, slowly letting the reality of yesterday settle in me. ‘Monique nailed it. She really did.’
Mum was watching me closely as if hoping to catch a sign of jealousy or new-found drive. But somehow I didn’t want to add myself into the mix. It had been Monique’s big day, not mine.
‘Just shows what can happen when you work for it, eh?’ said Mum, still watching me closely.
I nodded and screwed the lid back onto the jar of onions. As soon as I put it back on the table, Mum grabbed it and peered at the label. The jar went straight in the bin.
Mum’s voice was dripping with anticipation. ‘So . . . the big question is . . . how did you feel, Jade?’
‘I dunno.’ I looked up at Mum and sighed. ‘It was good to see everyone again.’
‘So . . . you’re ready to go back?’
I shrugged and looked down at my hands. ‘Well . . .’
When I looked up, Mum was frowning and shaking her head. ‘Jade, you saw the standard of competition yesterday.’ She pointed towards the front door, arm straight and forceful. ‘None of those girls are going to slow down and wait for you to get your act together. They’re working their guts out and . . .’ She dropped her arm and swallowed, as if pained to even say it. ‘If you keep doing nothing, then soon you won’t be able to catch them.’
They were tough-love words – trying to slap me into action, but they hadn’t scared me the way Mum hoped they would. I’d already faced all that.
Mum pulled out a kitchen chair and sat next to me. Our knees nearly touched. ‘Jade, I know it hasn’t been easy . . . but I’ve left you to sort through this on your own for long enough. It’s time we got your life together, sweetheart . . .’
I tried to keep my voice even. ‘I’ve got the swimming Zone Finals coming up. After that, I’ll go back to gym.’ It was what Mum wanted to hear at least, but not much more. ‘How’s that for a plan?’
Mum threw up her arms in frustration. ‘Honestly? It sounds like classic procrastination to me.’
I let a breath out and glared at her.
‘I mean . . . swimming?’ she continued. ‘What’s that all about? You’re going to hold up all your goals at gymnastics for some boy who’s on the swim team?’ She was laughing at how absurd it sounded.
I stood up, sick of it all. But Mum stopped laughing and stood too. ‘Jade . . .’ Her voice was shrill.
‘Look, I’m learning a lot about competition from swimming, you know. It’s not a waste of time.’
She nodded with put-on understanding, but I knew what she was really thinking.
There didn’t seem to be anything else for us to say. I turned, heading for the shower, and heard the fridge door open behind me. Meeting aborted.
Good. Mum would never understand what was going on for me. Ever since the injury I’d just been drifting, falling. Now I knew where I wanted to land – I wanted to fix the mess I’d made with Levi and sort through everything in my head. Until that happened, I had to keep going. Just keep fighting, Supergirl . . .