48. Zeke
DAY EIGHT OF THE 2024 OLYMPICS
Zeke wanted to run after Olivia. He’d gone to the Hub to explain everything, to tell her that the photos of him and Valentina weren’t what they looked like.
But when she said it was “just a summer thing,” he’d frozen. Because he had allowed himself to believe that she felt what he’d felt too. The chemistry between them whenever they spoke, the tenderness that filled their quiet moments, the raw passion when they kissed. But as he watched her walk away, the hopeful lovestruck feeling he’d had all week curdled into anxiety. And as he headed over to his afternoon training session, the worry that he might have got ahead of himself began to chip away at him.
“You need to get those legs higher, Zeke,” said Coach Adam. Zeke was jogging on the spot while trying to get his knees up as high as he could. But every leg lift took more effort than the last as he worried over Olivia’s admission that everything between them was just a “summer thing.”
There wasn’t a specific set of rules for what a sun-fueled situationship should be, but there were surefire rules of what it shouldn’t be. They weren’t supposed to talk about shared futures or old wounds. They weren’t supposed to meet each other’s friends and families. And they weren’t supposed to allude to any sort of life span beyond August. But if all Olivia wanted from him was someone to play the other part in a summer fling, he’d already broken so many of the rules. Maybe too many.
“All right, rolling planks,” said Coach Adam.
Zeke got down and pulled himself into a plank position.
She’d jokingly called him a distraction the other day and he’d laughed, but he knew there was some truth to her words. He was pretty distracting. He was always battling with an intensely packed schedule, training sessions, and public appearances. Maybe Olivia had realized that she didn’t want the constant complications that came with his world. The scrutiny, the pressure, and all the canceled plans.
“Zeke?” said Coach Adam. “Are you all right?”
“I’m good,” said Zeke. But he wasn’t.
“It’s taking you a lot longer to do things than it usually does. Are you tired?” Coach asked with concern. Coach Adam was usually a pretty easygoing guy, but he became very protective when it came to his athletes. They were like his kids.
“I’m fine,” said Zeke.
“You seem a little off. Are you still seeing Fiona?”
“Yes, Coach,” said Zeke with a hint of irritation. Asking for help was supposed to be a choice, not a mandatory element of his place in the team.
“I’m just looking out for you, kid,” said Coach Adam.
“You don’t need to,” said Zeke. It came out a little more sharply than he’d intended it to. There was a pause.
“Do we have a problem here?” asked Coach Adam, firmly but not unkindly.
“No, Coach,” Zeke said. Coach Adam looked at him. Zeke tried his best to look normal, but Coach Adam had known him long enough to tell he was going through it.
“Go for lunch,” said Coach Adam.
“I’ve already eaten lunch.”
“Okay then, take a walk.”
“We’ve just started training,” said Zeke. His voice was thick with annoyance.
“We have, but your head is clearly not in it, Moyo. You make mistakes when your head’s not in it.”
Zeke stood up. “I only have five more days before the competition.” Heartbreak began to mingle with the anxiety he’d been feeling on and off all week.
“Clear your head, Ezekiel. Take. A. Walk,” said Coach Adam with measured, no-nonsense finality. It wasn’t up for discussion.
Zeke let out a frustrated breath. He was about to reply with a quick remark, saying that it was his training session and that he would stop when he was finished. That Coach Adam had no right to tell him what to do, that he wasn’t his dad, or his uncle, and that Zeke could and would do whatever he wanted. But as he felt the words bubbling up, he realized he might say something he didn’t mean. Which probably meant that he really did need to clear his head. So, he picked up his bag and left the gym without saying another word. Then he did what he always did when he was feeling emotions he didn’t know how to handle. He went on a run.
He began at GB House and then turned left. He pressed play on a news podcast, but the sound of political chaos and natural disasters wasn’t enough to distract him from the thought of Olivia.
Zeke had gone years without really talking to anybody about his dad or all the complications that came with grief because he’d been worried about what would happen if he opened himself up too much. He didn’t want people to look at him differently, to go from seeing him as Zeke Moyo the star athlete to Little Z, the fourteen-year-old boy who’d just lost his favorite person and had no idea how to handle it. It had been over ten years now, and he still wasn’t sure he knew how to handle it.
He ran past the athletes’ apartments, over the bridge, and into a park filled with trees. He’d found a way to cope with his grief, to distract himself with running and competitions and the relentless drive to constantly outdo himself. But the truth was that talking to Olivia about it had lifted a bigger weight off his shoulders than anything else. Maybe that was the problem. That sitting on the ground with her while he gave her a glimpse into his insecurities had changed things for her. Maybe she had liked him, but the panic attack and talking too much about his feelings spooked her. Had it been too much emotion, too much fragility? Girls said they liked a guy who could talk about their feelings, but maybe only when they did it in a contained enough way to still seem manly.
The photos with Valentina didn’t help, but perhaps they’d just given her an easy out to end things. It was a lot simpler to finish something because you suspected someone was untrustworthy than because the guy you thought you’d liked had come on too strong with his emotions and complications. Zeke ran faster, annoyed with himself for revealing too much about the inside of his head.
As he circled back to the athletes’ apartments to end his run, he saw a guy wearing a white-and-red tracksuit walking toward Japan House. Zeke was already feeling pretty low, but as he realized it was Haruki, he felt himself deflate even more.
Zeke had been raised on loyalty. He treated his closest friends like siblings. If he’d been friends with somebody or they’d been there for him when he needed them the most, Zeke took them in like family. So, as he walked over to Haruki, he felt the sharp pain of knowing he’d let down someone he loved. Haruki normally had a smile on his face, but as he turned, all Zeke could see was disappointment.
“Hey, I tried to call you,” said Zeke, knowing that he could have done a lot more than that.
“I was busy,” said Haruki with an unfamiliar coldness.
Zeke knew he’d made a mistake, but it wasn’t until he saw Haruki’s face that he realized just how bad things were. He had to apologize.
“About Olivia. I’m sorry. I didn’t know that you were talking about—” started Zeke, but Haruki cut him off.
“No, we weren’t talking. Because we don’t talk.”
“We do talk.”
“I talk to you all the time—I tell you about work and who I’m seeing, my family and what scares me. But you never tell me anything. Not really,” said Haruki, his voice a mixture of sadness and anger.
“I call you all the time,” said Zeke defensively.
“No, I call you. Do you know, your brothers and your mum call me more than you do?”
“My mum calls you?” Zeke was surprised.
“Yes, your whole family does. Whenever you’re sad and distant and refuse to tell them about anything beyond how your last race went, they call me to figure out if you’re okay because you don’t talk to them either,” he said.
“That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is. You never tell us how you’re feeling. Sometimes I see you and know you’re going through it, but you just force yourself to handle all the bad things alone. And so you don’t let people into the good things either,” Haruki said.
Zeke was speechless.
“And if we hadn’t bumped into Olivia that night in the city, would you have even told me about her?” asked Haruki.
Zeke was silent.
“No, you wouldn’t have,” said Haruki, with a disappointment that made Zeke wonder how long his best friend had been feeling this way about him. How long all of the people around him had been feeling that way.
“I’m sorry,” said Zeke, because it was the only thing he was sure of. Then he said, “You really liked her, didn’t you?”
“Kinda,” said Haruki with a shrug, but his expression was so dejected that Zeke knew Haruki was holding back. They stood in silence for a moment.
“Haruki, you’re my best friend. And I like Olivia, a lot. But I’d never let a girl get in the way of our friendship. If that’s going to make this weird between us, I won’t—”
“Zeke, come on.” This time Haruki didn’t sound sad, he sounded annoyed. Really annoyed. “I didn’t even know her last name until the other night. Is that why you think I’m mad?” he said, shaking his head like Zeke was completely missing the point.
“I thought—”
“Zeke, I kind of liked Olivia, but that’s not the real issue here.” He looked Zeke in the eye. “You’re my friend, my best friend. But you don’t tell me anything. You don’t talk to me about your anxiety even though I know you feel it all the time. You don’t talk to me about your feelings. I’m pretty sure you would have dated Olivia for six months before even dropping a hint that you were seeing someone. Bro, you’re a great friend to me, one of the best people I know, but you don’t let me be a good friend to you.”
Haruki was right. Everyone had been so worried about Zeke when his dad died that they’d started treating him with kid gloves. And Zeke resented it. He loved being the center of attention when it came to races and competitions. But he’d hated the well-intentioned but suffocating attention he’d received the moment his identity became that of a boy who’d lost his dad too young. So, Zeke did his very best to act like none of it affected him. But somewhere along the line, that desire for people not to worry about him had shifted into not letting people in. And in doing so, he’d shut his best friend out.
“I’m…” Zeke thought about it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even realize,” he said honestly. Thinking of all the things he hadn’t told Haruki.
“It’s all right, I get it. The insides of our heads are complicated. Just let me in sometimes, okay?” said Haruki, patting his shoulder.
“I’ll try,” said Zeke, nodding. He knew it would take him a while to readjust, but the weight that lifted from his shoulders each time he talked to Olivia was enough for him to understand that he’d feel better if he didn’t force himself to carry it all alone.
“We’re good, Zeke,” Haruki said. Then, with a look of pure annoyance, added, “But you do know that I’m never going to forgive you for leaving me to sneak off to the kitchen to make out with a girl you knew I liked.”
Zeke’s eyes widened. He couldn’t even defend himself.
“While I was playing Uno. You’re a bit of an asshole, you know that?”
“I am, aren’t I?” said Zeke.
Haruki laughed at the guilty, embarrassed look on Zeke’s face. “You really do like her, don’t you?” he said, after studying him for a moment.
“I… I do,” Zeke admitted.
“She likes you too. I could tell as soon as I saw you together. So… you have my blessing, I guess,” said Haruki with an exaggerated sigh.
Zeke felt a wave of relief; he was so glad to have his best friend back.
But, he still had to fix things with Olivia. And before he could fix things with her, he would have to face himself.