12. Paula

Paula

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling while I listened to the sound of Deena's soft breathing. She'd fallen asleep about an hour ago, but sleep was eluding me, probably because my mind was racing so much.

We'd had the perfect afternoon. After a delicious meal of classic French cuisine, Deena and I sat on the deck, our feet propped up against the rail, and enjoyed seeing the sites while French music played from the band situated on the upper deck.

By the time we got back, our jet lag was catching up with us, and we took a one-hour nap before heading to the cafeteria for dinner. We'd spent the rest of the night propped up in our individual beds, reading and occasionally talking.

It was the most fun I'd had with another person in a very long time. I'd been so focused on training for the Games, I'd almost forgotten how to have fun.

I wish I had taken the time to get to know Deena before this, because she was awesome. Smart as hell. Thoughtful. And so very appealing. For a minute there on the deck I'd thought for sure we were going to kiss. And maybe we would have if the restaurant host didn't come right when he did.

I sighed as I rolled over, trying to get comfortable in these ridiculous beds. Who actually thought that a three inch mattress on top of hard cardboard would be remotely comfortable? Even with the foam mattress toppers that the coaches had picked up for us, it was like sleeping on a rock. I needed some solid sleep to get race ready, and between these beds and my distracting roommate, that was becoming impossible.

When Deena made a low whining noise I stilled, waiting to see if she was going to have another nightmare, but then she quieted again and I figured that she was okay. That's when it hit me: somehow I was falling in love with her.

It was crazy, but it was what it was. I felt a jumble of emotions: excitement, nervousness, and most of all, worry.

This is probably just a vacation romance kind of thing, I told myself. Not that we were on vacation of course, but I'd read enough forced proximity romances to know that being stuck in one room together during times of stress and upheaval was a recipe for sudden love. Who knows? Maybe we would get back to California and I'd realize it was all just a fluke.

It wasn't a fluke though. I knew that in my heart.

Did Deena feel it too? I was getting better at reading her now, but I had absolutely no idea if she was as attracted to me as I was to her.

The next morning was a repeat of the previous day. We got up early, grabbed a quick breakfast from the coffee cart (without any bird attacks this time), then joined the other runners and track and field athletes from the U.S. women's team for some stretching and warm-ups.

Today the coaches brought out the ladder apparatus for people to practice their footwork. They stretched several ladders out, square segments separated by plastic ‘rungs' and nylon webbing running lengthwise. They were mostly used for the athletes who needed bursts of speed, like the sprinters, but we all used the apparatus from time to time to improve balance and footwork.

As we waited our turn, we watched the shot putter and her alternate dance up two side by side ladders. Those athletes were thicker and more muscular than the rest of us since they competed based on strength not speed, but they got into the exercise, reaching out their hands to play ‘patty cake' as their feet moved through the rungs of the ladder.

"Quit messing around!" one of the coaches bellowed.

Deena and I looked at each other and started cracking up, earning us a reprimand of our own. It was fun having a buddy on the team, I realized. For all I had judged Deena for not being friendly, I didn't really hang out with anyone on the team myself. We talked in between exercises and on long runs, but I didn't really know my teammates back home as well as I probably should have.

After warm-ups, we set off on another five miler with Kara, following the same route as we did the day before.

"This is so much better than running in Arizona," Kara told us. "I love running by the water. I bet y'all run by the ocean all the time, huh?"

To my surprise Deena answered the question before I did. One thing I was realizing about her was that she needed a second to think before answering a question and she wasn't a person to interrupt if someone started talking first.

"We actually live inland," Deena explained. "It takes about forty-five minutes to get to the ocean from where we are, longer if traffic is bad, so most of us don't make it over there very often."

I couldn't decide if the surprised look on Kara's face was due to learning that not everyone in California lived on the beach, or because Deena was talking.

"I guess we're all happy to run along the water then," Kara said.

The Seine really was beautiful. I'd enjoyed our boat trip yesterday, completely impressed at all the history that lived along the banks of this river. It was too bad that they were struggling with pollution though, because I would have loved to go for a swim while I was here. God knows it was hot enough. I was dripping with sweat from even this easy paced run. I only hoped the weather would break before marathon day, because with this heat and humidity, running twenty-six point two miles was going to be torturous. And slow.

I lifted up my shirt to wipe the sweat off my brow, sorry I hadn't thought to bring a hat. I could practically feel my braids expanding in the humidity. My hair soaked up moisture like a sponge. Since I was wearing a sports bra, I decided just to pull my shirt all the way off and carry it for the rest of the run.

Next to me I heard Deena make a weird noise. I glanced over at her, but she wasn't looking at me. Not at my face anyway. She was staring at my mostly bare torso with an expression that made my panties wet: pure hunger.