Page 16 of Let the Games Begin
“I don’t do karaoke.”
“Oh, so you’re boring? Okay, good to know,” she nodded as she got off her stool and began to walk away.
“Wait, I’m not boring,” he called out.
“Then prove it,” she said, challenging him. Zeke looked at the crowd, the karaoke table, and then back at Olivia. He rarely felt self-conscious, but the thought of singing in front of other people made him incredibly uncomfortable. Somehow, she’d found the one weak spot in his armor.
“I…” he started, trying to come up with an excuse.
“It’s all right, you can be boring and spend the whole night standing by the wall while the rest of us have fun. Or…”
“Or?” Zeke asked.
Olivia put her straw in her mouth and looked up like she was thinking about it. “I dare you to get up on that table, sing a song ofmy choice, and give it your all,” she said.
“And what’s in it for me?”
“You get to defend your honor,” she said with a shrug. “It’s either sing or know for the rest of your life that you chose to be boring on the first night.”
Zeke was many things, but he wasn’t boring. So, before he knew it, he was walking over to the other side of the kitchen and taking the microphone.
It wasn’t until he was halfway through his performance of “Pony” by Ginuwine, Olivia’s choice, not his, that he realized she’d set him up.
She didn’t know anybody here, so she didn’t have a reputation to damage. Whereas Zeke was staring out at a crowd of athletes he was going to see for the rest of his life.
Olivia was looking up at him in delight; he’d played right intoher hands. There wasn’t a scoreboard, yet they both knew Olivia was winning.
But Zeke wasn’t one to back down in the face of a challenge, so as he sang the final chorus he looked into the crowd and caught her eye. She nodded, and so did he. The games had begun.
16Olivia
DAY ONE OF THE 2024 OLYMPICS
Olivia was in love. It happened unexpectedly, caught her off guard, and completely swept her off her feet. Sending her into the kind of ecstasy that forced her to close her eyes to experience it fully. All the sounds around her grew more vivid and, for a moment, she forgot everything that she was worried about and every way she’d ever felt slighted.
Because Olivia was falling in love with akoulouri Thessaloníkis. The most perfect piece of bread she’d ever eaten. It was ring-shaped and covered with toasted sesame seeds, crunchy on the outside, with a mouthwateringly soft, chewy center. She hadn’t expected it, and she knew she would never be the same.
“Try it with this,” said Aditi as she slid a plate of feta and tomatoes over the table. Olivia broke off a chunk of herkoulouri, sliced it, and then added the feta and tomato. She took a bite. It was so good that she could have wept.
“I think I should move to Greece,” Olivia said, looking at herkoulouriwith such reverence that you’d never have guessed it was just the Greek equivalent of a bagel.
That morning Olivia had woken up with a pounding headache and an embarrassingly clear memory of the previous night. But before she could bury her head back in her pillow, Aditi dragged her out of bed to say that she “absolutely, nonnegotiably” had to go and try a new café with her.
Olivia put on her volunteer uniform, then helped Aditi carry her camera bag and tripod across Athens into a quieter area of the city to visit the Mnisikleous Street Stairs—a set of old steps lined with cafés, restaurants, and beautiful stone houses. As Aditi took photos, Olivia looked up to see bright green leaves and red bougainvillea flowers growing all around them. Kalopsia was a family-owned café with climbing grapevines on its walls and picturesque blue doors and shutters. The two of them ordered small portions of everything they served for breakfast, two huge glasses of fruit juice and, for Aditi, a cup of every single type of coffee on the menu. They spent a solid ten minutes rearranging plates and finding the perfect angles so Aditi could take the photos and videos she needed before they settled down to eat breakfast.
Olivia thought she’d done a pretty good job of tiptoeing back into the apartment last night and that Aditi hadn’t noticed how hoarse her voice was from singing. But nothing escaped her best friend.
“So, I’m guessing Summer Olivia made an appearance last night?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Olivia said, but it was a hopeless battle.
“I mean, this,” Aditi said, sliding her phone over to show a video of Olivia sitting on a table in between two Bulgarian weight lifters, singing “Fantasy” by Mariah Carey.
“Ah, Svetlana and Viktor,” Olivia said. She’d gone from dancing with Arlo to being introduced to the Bulgarian weight lifting team, to convincing them to do another round of shots and karaoke with her. She watched herself, remembering how much fun she’d had, but then realized there was absolutely no reason for Aditi to have that video. Thanks to her rapidly growing following of devoted iced coffee enthusiasts, Aditi had been invited to an influencer watch party hosted by an athleisure/decaf coffee company last night.
“Where did you get this?” Olivia asked.
“Well, you tagged this guy named Arlo in a photo of you in your uniform last night, so I went to his profile and watched his story. Then I saw that he’d tagged a Danish sailor. So, I went to her story. She’d posted a selfie with a volunteer, who’d posted a carousel of photos from the opening ceremony. That led me to a story posted by a Bulgarian weight lifter, Svetlana, which led me to this video of you,” Aditi confessed.
