Page 63 of Let the Games Begin
“Twelve minutes before curfew,” said Coach Adam in a sing-song voice as he walked past. It was already 6:48 p.m.
Zeke looked down at his own watch then around at the Village. It would take him at least eight minutes to walk to the Hub and another twelve minutes to walk back to GB House. If he broke curfew, he’d never hear the end of Coach Adam’s lectures aboutthinking he was above the rules.Once you got a bad reputation among the Team GB coaches it was almost impossible to shake it off, and he knew that the ramifications would follow him for the rest of his career. Zeke already had two strikes. He was walking on thin ice.
But Olivia was worth it, way more than worth it. And Zeke was quite literally one of the fastest men in the world. So, he ran.
He had spent the last ten years running away from his fears, his anxiety, and the persistent feeling that he was doing it all wrong. But now he had something to run toward. Someone to run toward. There were no guarantees in life. No sign that Olivia would hear him out or that the sparks he’d felt would be reciprocated past the heady haze of the summer. But this thing they had, this electric, romantic, overwhelmingly tender thing that kept drawing them together was more than enough for him to temporarily stop running away from everything that scared him and run toward the hope of all that he and Olivia could become.
51Zeke
DAY EIGHT OF THE 2024 OLYMPICS
Zeke put one foot in front of the other and ran faster than ever before, reaching the Hub in record time. He put his hand out to grab the door handle, but before he could make contact, the door opened. And there she was.
“Zeke,” she said, looking up at him in surprise as they stood in the doorway. The warm early evening light was pouring in through a window behind her, framing her silhouette with gold.
“Olivia,” he said, feeling his heart swell. He wassohappy to see her.
“Did you run here?” she asked, looking at the sweat on his arms. It was scorching in Athens, but running in the heat was worth it for her.
“I needed to tell you…” he said, catching his breath. Her eyes were slightly red. He couldn’t bear to see her sad, especially knowing he was the reason. “The photos aren’t what they look like… I can explain—” he began.
“I know. I saw Valentina’s post. I’m… sorry I jumped to conclusions,” said Olivia.
“I’m sorry I just stood there,” he said. A silence fell between them for a moment. He watched as she nervously tugged at one of her braids. He could see the sadness on her face. “I should have run after you,” he admitted. “But—did you really mean what you said back there? That it was just… a summer thing? Because if you did, that’s fine, I understand. But for me, it was always more than that.”
She looked slightly panicked. Zeke felt a bolt of fear, but then she began to speak.
“Zeke, I never meant that you werejusta summer thing. I mean that I feel the most myself in the summer…” she said, looking up at him. “And, lately, I’ve started to imagine what it would be like to feel this way all the time. To be with you all the time. I like you, Zeke Moyo. So much that it kind of terrifies me.”
He could feel his heart beating faster.
“I’m not always my summer self, Zeke. And as much as I like you, I’m not going to change myself to be some perfectly warm, sunshine dream girl. Because I like who I am,” she said, hesitating for a moment.
“I like who you are too, I like you a lot,” said Zeke. “And I know it’s summer, and everyone’s always trying to be easy, carefree, and nonchalant when the sun comes out—”
“I’m none of those things, by the way,” Olivia said with a solemn shake of her head. “I’m not easy or nonchalant or carefree. I care a lot. I am very chalant.”
“I wouldnevercall you carefree or nonchalant. And I don’twant carefree or nonchalant.” Zeke looked into her eyes. Standing under her gaze felt like stepping outside and feeling the sun on his arms on the first day of spring. Like waking up to a bright blue sky in the depths of a long winter. He already knew that it was too late to stop the fall.
“Olivia, I’m terrified of messing this up,” he admitted, looking at her. “I know I seem confident and sure of myself…”
“Handsome, charming,and humble,” Olivia said, unable to hold herself back.
“I’m the full package deal, baby,” he said with a smile. But then it faded, and Olivia gave his hand a small squeeze as he started to speak again.
“But I spend every night terrified I’m going to do the wrong thing… in every part of my life. That I’m going to disappoint someone, waste my potential, make the wrong decision, go down the lesser path, or let people down. I don’t want to mess things up, and it’s easier to not get things wrong by not giving anything a real try,” he said, allowing himself to be honest in a way he never had.
He gently pulled her closer to him; she raised her hand to slowly stroke the side of his face. He brushed a loose braid away from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear so nothing could obstruct his view of her.
“I really like you, and I’m going to give this my all. Because I think we could really have something… be something.”
As she heard his words, she leaned forward and closed the distance, their lips finding a soft, safe, tender place to land. The sun began its slow descent, coating every surface it touched in a warm, bright, golden light. But they were so focused on eachother that everything else was reduced to a blur in their periphery. Summer wouldn’t last forever, but when it ended—no matter how it ended—at least they would know they’d given it their best shot. In that moment, it was enough just to live for the hope of it all.
52Olivia
DAY THIRTEEN OF THE 2024 OLYMPICS
When Olivia was eight years old, she’d run a tactical campaign to become class president. With the strategy of someone way beyond her years, she’d written out a list of the most influential people in each friendship group, starting with the girl who ran the lunchtime book club and the goalie of the KS2 football club. She’d subtly befriended them all over the course of the two months before the vote, told them about all the things she wanted to change at their school, alluding to campaign promises with the strategy of a seasoned politician. It would be a piece of cake to get the librarian to order some 13+ novels for the book club girls. And, of course, the football boys should be allowed to play whatever they wanted during PE. She’d whispered and promised, charmed and calculated her way to the ballot paper, and won the presidential election by a landslide. Olivia could take any situation and make it work in her favor. She knew exactly how to get what she wanted.
