47. Olivia
DAY EIGHT OF THE 2024 OLYMPICS
Olivia immediately turned around. She wasn’t ready for him to see her red eyes.
“Wait! Olivia!” Zeke said, following her.
“I’m busy, Zeke,” Olivia said quietly as she gripped onto her cleaning cart and tried to maneuver away from him. She couldn’t bear the thought of him lying to her face; she’d already seen the pictures.
“But I need to talk to you,” he said.
“And I need to deliver two hundred towels to the west gym,” she said, looking ahead because she knew that if she looked at Zeke she’d find a way to change her own mind.
“You saw the photos? Just let me explain,” he said, speed walking after her.
“I don’t need your explanation. It’s fine. You don’t owe me anything and I don’t owe you anything,” she said. She didn’t sound angry, she sounded defeated.
“Liv, it’s not what it looks like,” he said.
“It’s always what it looks like, Zeke. You don’t need to force it to protect my feelings. I can do that all by myself.”
“You’ve got to at least give me a chance,” said Zeke. Olivia stopped and closed her eyes. He was right. She decided to give him one chance to say whatever it was that he had to say.
But as she turned around to face him, she saw someone else she recognized. Olivia froze. Because right there, walking toward them, wearing a perfectly tailored suit and a staff lanyard… was Lars Lindberg.
“Zeke! How’s it going? Congratulations on the big race,” said Lars, patting Zeke on the back like they were old friends. Olivia could feel herself deflating.
“Thanks, bud, I appreciate it. Looking sharp as always,” said Zeke. “Don’t say you’ve gone corporate on me?” Olivia looked at Zeke, and she could see the version of himself he turned into when he had to play the role of Ezekiel Moyo. She didn’t like it.
“It was either this, or the old man was going to get me to take over the London office,” said Lars. Olivia bristled at his nonchalance.
“Let me introduce you,” said Zeke, but when he looked at Olivia she could see the worry in his eyes. Could tell that he was desperate to get rid of Lars and finish the conversation they’d been about to have. But it was too late.
“Olivia, this is Lars, one of my old friends,” he said. “And Lars, this is Olivia, who’s going to be running this whole thing in a couple of years.”
She knew that Zeke thought he was doing her a favor by introducing her to one of the most powerful people (pending his father’s death or retirement) in the sporting world. But the sight of Lars made her nauseous.
“Nice to meet you, Olivia, I’m Lars Lindberg,” Lars said, reaching his arm out to shake her hand.
“You know we’ve met before, right?” Olivia asked.
“We have?” said Lars.
“I gave you the goodie bags two days ago,” Olivia said. She hated that she immediately wondered if her tone was too harsh. She could feel herself slipping back into the version of herself she’d been during all those hours spent in offices and rooms that made her feel invisible.
“Sorry, I don’t remember you. Are you sure we’ve met?” he asked.
“We were on the same course at university for three years,” she said, tracing his face for a hint of recognition. She couldn’t see any. Lars didn’t remember her, and why would he? To a guy like him, she was just another faceless, nameless uniformed girl there to make his experience of the Village easier.
She knew the only reason he’d gone to shake her hand was because of Zeke. Zeke talking to her gave her value in Lars’s eyes. She had to be somebody, or somebody adjacent, to know Ezekiel Moyo, right? As she looked at Lars, she could see him assessing her, trying to figure out if she was worth his time, whether she could help his climb. But then he glanced over at her cleaning cart and lost interest. She withdrew her hand and wiped the sweat from his palm on the back of her shirt.
“Thanks for everything you’re doing for the Village. The Games wouldn’t be the same without incredible volunteers like you,” said Lars dully, like it was a line he’d been trained to repeat.
His practiced politeness left such a vile taste in her mouth that she put both of her hands on her cleaning cart and started to push it away. This was all too much to handle right now.
“Olivia, wait up!” said Zeke.
She shook her head and kept on walking. “Zeke, I get it. This, us? It was a glitch, a mistake. I don’t need your explanations,” she said, waving him off.
“A glitch? Olivia, come on, you know it was more than just a glitch.”
“A summer thing, then. Everyone’s reckless in the summer,” she said, walking ahead without turning to face him.
“So, I was just a reckless decision?” said Zeke flatly. Olivia kept on walking, but she could hear the answer in her head. No, he wasn’t a bad decision, he was one of the best decisions she’d made all year. But for the first time in a long time, she’d made a decision based on how she felt instead of what she knew. She couldn’t believe she’d let herself be led by something as fickle as feelings.
“Zeke, I don’t want to talk. Just leave me alone, please,” she said, walking faster, trying to hold back the sting she could feel in her eyes.
“If I was a mistake, I don’t want to get in your way,” Zeke said, slowing down as he fell out of step with her.
“Fine,” she said, speeding ahead without looking back. He’d got so good at making her feel safe enough to let her guard down that he’d started to do it without even trying. But now he’d stopped walking after her. So, she powered on ahead. Pushing her cart as she bit her lip and refused to let herself turn around. She couldn’t let him see her cry. She couldn’t let him know how much she wished he’d carried on walking by her side.