7. Zeke
ONE DAY BEFORE THE OPENING CEREMONY
“Zeke, wake up! Look!” said Anwar.
Zeke had fallen asleep almost immediately after getting into the Team GB shuttle bus from Athens International Airport. But at the sound of Anwar’s voice, he woke up and looked out of the window. His eyes widened as he realized what he was seeing. The gates, the signs, the red, blue, green, yellow, and black rings.
“The Village…” said Frankie. Suddenly everyone on the shuttle bus was looking out of their windows. The road leading up to the gates was lined with a row of sycamore trees that looked magical in the sunlight. The newly built training facilities, accommodation blocks, and competition venues were dazzlingly high-tech. And there were athletes from all around the world in colorful team uniforms piling out of shuttle buses. Zeke had been to Rio and Tokyo, but the first moment on Village grounds never failed to take his breath away. The gravity of it all was overwhelming. It was a strange mixture of grief and joy.
The Olympics had been his and his dad’s dream, yet only one of them would ever step into the Village. Zeke tried to shake off the complicated feelings. He’d spent his whole life making sacrifices for this.
But there was more to the Olympics than competing. When the GQ writer who’d interviewed Zeke had asked him what his favorite part of the Games was, Zeke had answered immediately—the Village.
Because the Olympics threw together hundreds of young, hot, athletic twenty-somethings from around the world and let them play sports and party for two weeks. Well, party within reason.
“What happens in the Village, stays in the Village…” said Zeke, and the whole bus began to groan. It was Zeke’s favorite game. “What happens in the Village, stays in the Village, but do you remember the time somebody got blackout drunk and security found them running around the stadium at three a.m., wearing Team GB Speedos… and nothing else?”
Harry, the shot putter who had done exactly that, laughed from the front of the shuttle bus. “Okay, what happens in the Village, stays in the Village, but do you remember the morning when we saw two members of the Croatian rowing team leaving Frankie’s room…”
Frankie shouted in protest, “What happens in the Village, STAYS in the Village!” Frankie wasn’t as innocent as he looked. “I mean it,” he said, blushing. “Okay, what happens in the Village, stays in the Village, but do you remember the time someone set up fireworks to ask someone to go on a date and then got interrogated by the actual Japanese FBI?”
“They were just really active sparklers!” protested Zeke, “and anyway, they weren’t mad at me, they just couldn’t understand how I’d got them into the Village.” He shrugged.
“Now that I’m thinking about it, how did you get fireworks into the Village?” asked Anwar.
“Even more surprisingly, how did you get Valentina Ross-Rodriguez to be your girlfriend?” said Camille with a smirk as the whole bus laughed.
“And how did you fumble the bag so badly?” said Frankie. They were always teasing him about Valentina.
Valentina Ross-Rodriguez was Zeke’s first love. And when he’d fallen, he’d fallen hard. Zeke and Valentina had met at the Tokyo Olympics when they were twenty-one. They’d locked eyes during the opening ceremony, and by the end of the summer they’d started what would become a two-year long-distance relationship. If she hadn’t broken things off, he probably would have asked her to marry him. But that was in the past now.
“All right, all right. My fault for starting the game,” said Zeke. “But remember the time somebody threw an open invite hall party that got so wild we all ended up in disciplinary?” The whole team cheered as they remembered the epic party they’d enjoyed in Tokyo after Camille had won her first Olympic medal.
“But it was worth it, right?” said Camille, and everyone shouted in agreement. The athletics team had been given a seven p.m. curfew for the rest of the Games for causing a “serious disturbance,” but it was still one of the best parties Zeke had ever been to.
“I’ve had three years to practice, so this summer’s hall parties are going to be legendary,” Camille said. Camille’s parties were pretty legendary. The halls of the athletes’ apartments had the same energy as the halls of a student accommodation block the night after exam week ended. But before anyone could ask her what she was planning for this year, one of the GB officials at the front of the shuttle bus stood up.
“Guys, I already have to babysit the rugby team since they make a mess everywhere they go,” he said, shaking his head with the weariness of a man who’d sat in one too many party-related disciplinary committee meetings.
Camille turned around to whisper to Zeke and Anwar through the gap between her seats. “I brought a whole bag of party decorations.”
They got out of the bus, collected their suitcases, and walked to the athletes’ section of the Village in a crowd of Team GB– branded uniforms. Volunteers looked over and pointed at them, and Olympic staff glanced over in excitement. When they reached the athletes’ plaza, Zeke looked up and spotted the international flags hanging from the apartment blocks all the athletes were staying in. This year, they were tall, bright, modern buildings surrounded by newly planted trees and perfectly landscaped gardens.
“Excuse me, are you Ezekiel Moyo?” said a quiet voice, squeaking a bit at the end. He looked down and smiled at the two girls wearing the uniform of the Italian team.
“Can we get a photo with you?” the girl on the right asked.
“Of course,” said Zeke warmly as Anwar took one of their phones to take the photo. The girls squealed their thanks and then ran back to their team.
“My bet is gymnastics. They look about twelve,” said Frankie; they always made a game of guessing what sport someone played based on their first impressions.
“I feel like synchronized swimming,” said Camille. “They’re tiny and look exactly the same. It would be a waste not to use it to their advantage.”
“The Caruso twins?” said Coach Adam, the head coach of the athletics team. “Four-time-gold-winning fencers; they’re absolutely lethal when they have their masks on.”
“How do you even know that?” asked Zeke.
“I know everything,” Coach Adam said matter-of-factly. “The way I know that somebody was planning a first-night hall party.”
They all groaned.
“But, Coach, it’s essential to team bonding,” said Camille.
“You can bond on the track during practice. Come on, you know better. Subpar athletes party…”
“Medalists go to sleep,” they said in unison as they arrived at GB House. They ran up the stairs to go and see their rooms. Zeke’s favorite moment after arriving at a competition was always looking out at the view from his temporary bedroom. He pulled back the curtains and stared out at the sea of athletes’ apartment blocks. He could see dozens of buildings adorned with flags. Sweden House and the Peruvian block, the Nigerian apartments and Italy’s building. He snapped a picture of a set of windows decorated with Zimbabwean flags, sent it to his family, then tapped on a new message notification.
Haruki: WE’RE NEIGHBORS!
Haruki Endō, his best friend, was a swimmer on the Japanese team. And this year Japan House was just a three-minute walk away, a major upgrade from their usual fourteen-hour flight. But before he could reply to Haruki, another message popped up on his screen. Zeke smiled. It was Valentina Ross-Rodriguez. He felt his heart quicken for a second the way it used to whenever he got a text from her. But then it slowed down again. They were just friends now, after all.
Valentina: can’t believe you followed me all the way to Greece
Zeke: you broke up with me by text, you left me with no other choice
Valentina: leaving a trail of broken hearts wherever I go isn’t easy for me either
Zeke laughed. He could hear the way Valentina would say that.
Zeke: when can I see you?
Valentina: Coach Lydia basically has the team on lockdown until our competition
Zeke: opening ceremony after-party then?
Valentina: if you can find me