16. Olivia
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 a koulouri 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 her koulouri, 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 her koulouri with 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.
“Aditi, I think we need to talk about your deep-stalking skills,” Olivia said.
“You can’t distract me with an intervention. What happened last night?” Aditi single-mindedly focused on a Summer Olivia resurgence. So, Olivia told her about the after-party and the interaction she’d had with Zeke.
“I can’t decide whether you hate him or kind of fancy him,” Aditi said wistfully.
“Aditi? I told you he spilled juice all over me, told me to be nice, and then insinuated that I was a bad singer. What is there to like?” Olivia said.
“Your voice,” Aditi said, as if she could see right through her. “Your voice does the same thing when you’re talking about someone you hate as it does when you’re talking about someone you like.”
“No, it doesn’t,” said Olivia, stabbing her fruit salad and eating a whole forkful in one go.
“Oh yeah, it definitely does. There’s always a thin line between you hating a guy and really just fancying them. When we were kids, you used to be mean to boys you liked in the playground and find something to dislike about them so you could—” Aditi began, but Olivia was not going to have that conversation.
“I don’t like him. And if everything goes according to plan, I’m never going to see him again unless it’s on the TV,” she said decisively.
“Whatever you say,” Aditi replied in a singsong voice.
“And even if I did like him, or anybody I met in the Village, nothing would happen. I don’t do summer flings—”
“Except that one time,” Aditi said.
“Which is never going to happen again,” Olivia said. “Summer is dangerous. So, the only guy I’m going to think about for the next two weeks is Noah in HR, because I still need to find a way to get a real job at the Olympics.” Aditi couldn’t argue with that.
“Wait, I haven’t even told you the most devastating thing that happened yesterday—I went to lost property but still couldn’t find my notebook!” Olivia said, disappointed. The iridescent Cool Runnings–inspired I AM FEELING VERY OLYMPIC TODAY notebook had been a congratulations gift from Aditi. Her best friend knew how much she loved the movie and how much she liked organizing her life out into lists, so she’d given her the special personalized notebook in a ribbon-tied box as soon as they’d arrived in Athens. Olivia loved it on sight and had laughed out loud when she saw the note Aditi had written her on the first page. But when she’d gone to repack her work bag, she’d realized it was missing. She’d searched the whole apartment to try and find it, to no avail.
“I remember holding it before I went to Olympic prison, but I can’t remember opening it again,” she said with a sigh, trying to retrace her steps across the Village to narrow her search. But before she could whittle it down, her phone started ringing. She glanced down at the caller ID and then immediately looked away.
“Aren’t you going to answer?” Aditi asked as they both looked at the phone. The caller ID was Olivia’s mum.
“No,” Olivia said, taking another bite of her koulouri. Aditi gave her a quizzical look.
“You haven’t told them yet? Liv!” said Aditi, but instead of answering, Olivia declined the call and quickly typed out a text telling her mum that she was so busy getting ready for the third day of her internship, that she would have to call her back later on that night.
No, Olivia hadn’t told her parents that she wasn’t doing the internship she’d flown to Athens for. And she had absolutely no intention of telling them until she fixed it. Her parents wanted her to do well, but they weren’t the overbearing type. Still, she’d aced school, got a first-class degree, and stacked up her CV with the kinds of things that made them proud.
Olivia knew they wouldn’t be disappointed in her if she told them the truth. But she knew they would be disappointed for her, which was somehow worse. She was the one who was supposed to overcome and achieve everything their generation hadn’t been able to. So, she told them a white lie to protect their feelings, promised Aditi that she’d keep saying yes to everything that sounded like fun, and then she hopped on the shuttle to the other side of Athens to begin her third day in the Village. And track down her iridescent notebook.