Page 18 of Let the Games Begin
“Have I ever let you down, Coach?” said Zeke. But then he remembered all the times he had. “Don’t worry, I’ll be on time.” He grabbed his training bag and headed over to the canteen to have breakfast. His body wanted a greasy full English breakfast with a big cup of coffee and a whole plate of bacon to soak up his hangover. But that morning his dietitian assigned him… a bowl of oatmeal, a banana, and a boiled egg.
When Zeke got to the table where his teammates were sitting, he saw an exhausted-looking Haruki sipping a detox juice as he ate breakfast on the other side of the canteen with the rest of the Japanese swimmers. Haruki gave him a tired wave and mouthed “help” with a hand over his heart.
“All right, team. Last night, where did you go, who did you meet, and what stories am I going to have to swear to never tell a single soul?” asked Anwar as he approached their table.
“I went to a party with the Korean archery girls, then spent the night dancing in Nigeria House,” said Camille.
“I ended up in a really intense poker game with a bunch of marathon runners,” said Anwar.
“I woke up in Sweden,” said Frankie.
“Zeke? You’re awfully quiet today,” said Camille.
“I partied with the Australians,” Zeke said, knowing that was enough for them to understand exactly how his night had gone.
“Oh, that explains why you’re wearing sunglasses inside,” said Camille.
“And the two jugs of water,” said Anwar.
“I heard there was a… cross-Atlantic meeting?” said Frankie, raising an eyebrow, and the whole table “ooohed” conspiratorially. Gossip spread like wildfire in the Village. Somehow his tragic attempt at karaoke hadn’t left the party, but his two-minute interaction with Valentina was part of that morning’s gossip train.
“So, does that mean that you and Valentina are getting back together?” asked Camille with a grin. She leaned forward. Camille was the one who’d introduced Zeke to Valentina in Tokyo, and after Haruki, she was the most fervent supporter of their relationship.
“I told you Zekentina was endgame,” she said, nudging Frankie.
Frankie shrugged. “I still prefer Valenkiel.”
“Valenkiel sounds like a foot ointment,” she retorted. As the two of them went back and forth, Zeke remembered what had happened immediately after his karaoke performance. Olivia had clapped along with the rest of the crowd, but before he could find her again to tell her that he’d found her notebook, she had disappeared into thin air. Then, Valentina had walked into the kitchen. Everyone in the room had stolen a glance.
“Hey, Z,” Valentina had said, pulling him into a hug, either unaware or unaffected by the fact that all eyes were on them. Zeke was aware, but he didn’t care. He was just happy to see her.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he’d said, hugging her back. He genuinely meant it. They called and texted pretty regularly, but this this was the first time they’d seen each other since the breakup, and it felt… nice.
It was strange, Zeke thought, that he could stand in front of someone who knew the very best and worst of him. But somehow slip into a casual conversation like they werejustold friends. They’d broken up a year ago, but it had been the most amicable breakup of Zeke’s life. So they stayed friends.
Before Valentina, Zeke had never imagined there could be heartbreak without resentment, or separation without a perpetual feeling of loss. He was his mother’s child, after all. The love he felt for the people who’d come into his life never went away. But as he talked to Valentina in the kitchen at the party, he realized that his love for her had found a way to take on a new form.
“So, you two, that’s happening again?” asked Anwar curiously, back in the canteen.
“We’re just friends,” Zeke said with a shrug.
“All right,” said Camille, rolling her eyes. “I’ll pretend you’rejust friends, but when you both come to your senses and decide to get married, I’m going to be the maid of honor.”
Zeke glanced over at his phone. He’d put it on silent that morning to stop himself from getting distracted during training. But now there were over seven missed calls and a rapidly growing list of text messages from Coach Adam. That much phone activity could only mean one thing. Something terrible had happened to someone he loved, or Zeke was in big trouble. It was almost always the latter, so he winced and called back.
“Hey, Coach,” Zeke said, grimacing at the rest of the team, who instantly recognized the face of someone who was about to get told off.
“Ezekiel Moyo,” Coach said, sounding exasperated. “Why do you never answer your phone?” Coach Adam had two teenage daughters, so whenever he got annoyed, he switched to dad mode.
“Coach, have I ever told you how much I appreciate you?” Zeke began, but it was useless. Coach Adam couldn’t be sweet-talked out of irritation.
“Ezekiel, I put this in your calendar months ago. But it’s ten-oh-seven and you’re not here yet.”
Zeke closed his eyes as he remembered what Coach was talking about. The BBC interviews.Damn.The video shoot was supposed to start at ten a.m. It would take him twenty-five minutes to walk to the venue, and he was already seven minutes late. Zeke needed something that would get him to the other side of the Village, and he needed it fast.
He swiped through his phone, opened the golf buggy app, and booked a ride. “I’ll be right there, Coach.”
18Olivia
