19. Lucas
Lucas
“Where the fuck is Ezra?!”
I practically shit my pants. It was the second time I had heard Woodward swear…ever.
The other three members of the team were getting dressed in the locker room. Zane had been calling him for half an hour, but it went straight to voicemail every time.
“When was the last time you saw him, Cam?”
“I’m sorry, Coach. It was early in the morning. I spent most of the day with Luke.”
“Uh, Coach?” Miles said. “Jack Davies just tweeted that he and Ezra are stuck in an elevator. They’re here, at the Chase Center.”
“What?”
“Let me see that.” Zane walked over to where Miles was sitting.
“Tweet him back,” Woodward demanded. “Find out what elevator they’re in.”
Miles started typing as soon as Zane handed him his phone back, Hudson watched from over his shoulder. Cam was right. He and Miles were together. I could tell from their body language, especially now that I was looking for it.
“Cassandra, Zane, track down maintenance. Get them out of that elevator.” They left the locker room immediately. “Luke! You’re with me. We’re going to talk to the officials. Great Britain’s probably up in arms too.”
I gave Cam a fake smile and followed Woodward into the arena. I wasn’t sure why he was bringing me. What could I do?
Great Britain’s head coach was already talking to the head judge. I heard him ask how long they could wait. Woodward walked up and immediately said, “Jack and Ezra are stuck in an elevator in this building. Lucas, show him the tweet.”
That. That is what I could do. I wasn’t sure Woodward even had a Twitter account.
“Surely, you have to give us some time to try to get them here. It’s not their fault the elevator’s stuck!”
“Something like this has never happened before. It’s unprecedented. I-I can’t delay indefinitely. I’ll contact arena management. We’ll try to get them here, but I can’t delay more than thirty minutes.”
“Are you being serious?” the British coach asked.
“Let’s go, Lucas.” Woodward was already walking away. “Call Cassandra. See if she’s made any progress. Thirty minutes, my ass! I’m not waiting around for him to do anything about it. We’ll call 9-1-1 if we have to.”
After twenty minutes with no updates, Woodward left with Noah to find Zane and Cassandra, leaving me with Hudson, Miles, O and Cam. Hudson and I were trying to keep the team calm.
“Can we compete with just the three of us?” Miles asked.
“All three of you would have to do every event for you to have a chance at a medal,” Hudson answered.
“That’s impossible,” O said.
“All three of you are capable in every event,” I said.
“Not what I mean, Luke. We’re not good enough to score enough points to beat the other teams. They’ll have five guys to choose from.”
“Not Great Britain,” Cam pointed out.
“Japan, Brazil. They’re powerhouses. We need Ezra.” O started to pace.
“I’m sure they’ll find him. And if they don’t, you still do the best you can. Same as you would if Ezra were here.” I gave his shoulder a squeeze. He was tense, so it turned into a back rub. “You need to loosen up.”
A door opened and I almost gasped. But it was just an official letting us know warm-ups would start in five minutes.
I walked back over and sat next to Cam. “You really think we have a shot?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I answered. “There’s a shot.”
There was no shot. We were almost done with the warm-up, and no one else had shown up yet. The crowd could tell something was up. Obviously, something was up. There were only three American gymnasts on the podium!
When Woodward’s text came through, I didn’t know whether to breathe a sigh of relief that I wouldn’t be in charge anymore, or that they found Ezra.
“‘We’re on the way’ is what it says,” I told Hudson.
“Did you ask if they found Ezra?”
“No response. I checked Twitter too. Nothing there.”
“We should be panicking right about now, huh?” Hudson asked.
“We might feel that way, but I’d never let the guys know I feel that.”
“Oh, I know that. I was just commiserating. Getting it out of my system.”
“I get that.” I thought about what Cam must be feeling. What they all must be feeling. “They need to believe they can do it, especially for Miles.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Even though he only worked with him for a short time, Ty told me that confidence was Miles’ biggest problem.”
Hudson scoffed. “Still is. Shortstack doesn’t believe he’s good enough.”
“Shortstack?”
Hudson shrugged. “He is the shortest one on the team.”
“Uh-huh.” I let Hudson’s nickname - clearly, a term of endearment - slide.
The noise in the arena changed. I looked around, trying to pinpoint the cause. It became obvious when I saw spectators pointing, and soon enough I was able to see as well.
“It’s Ezra!” I heard Cam yell from his spot on the podium.
Woodward was leading the way, with Ezra and Jack behind him.
And paramedics?
Great Britain and their coach noticed almost at the same time, and both teams converged off the podium in a massive pileup of people. There were so many questions being hurtled back-and-forth. I couldn’t hear a single word of what Ezra or Woodward were saying.
It was only when a whistle cut through the air that everyone stopped yelling, and someone - I think it was the British coach - asked Ezra and Jack to explain, quickly.
“Well, the elevator just stopped, mid-floor. We hadn’t touched anything,” Jack started.
“So, we tried the phone in there, but no one answered,” Ezra continued.
“That’s when I tweeted.”
“We needed to get to the locker rooms!”
And back and forth they went, like they had told it a hundred times.
Based on Jack and Ezra’s descriptions via direct message, Zane and Cassandra found them pretty quickly once they left us.
Despite getting in touch with arena staff, the maintenance specialist had gone home to take care of a sick kid and the person covering for him had little elevator experience.
That was about when Woodward found them.
In the end, with help from paramedics and the onsite fire crew, they were able to climb out of the roof of the elevator and to the next floor, where the firemen had opened the door.
Ezra was fine, but Jack had cut himself on the ceiling of the elevator - thus, the continued paramedic presence. Jack didn’t want to miss the finals, so it was treat on the move or not at all.
“And now everyone knows everything,” Ezra said.
“So can we go get our uniforms on and get our arses out there?” Jack asked.
“Yes!” Woodward said. “We likely have a few minutes to get you warmed up.”
And just like that, the group broke apart. Jack and the British team went their way, and Cam and I, and the rest of the coaches and Team USA, went ours.
Through the din, before we could even cross back to the other side, I heard it. The chant. The chant that I knew made Cam’s eyes water with happiness, and would put any of Ezra’s qualms aside.
USA! USA USA!
I had to smile. It was a great feeling. I turned to see Ezra’s reaction, but Cam’s fingers found my own and my eyes immediately went to his.
“You got this, Cam.”
“I do now.”
Zane herded Ezra into the locker room as the rest of the guys headed back to the podium to continue the warm up.
Coach was right. It would only be a matter of minutes.
“How is this happening?” Cam asked me.
He was referring to the fact that we were in first place after two events. The two the team had struggled on for years: pommel horse and rings. Cam, Orion and Miles had all placed in the top eight on the horse, and Orion had the highest score for the rings.
“You’re all amazing,” I said, while we waited to move to the next apparatus.
Cam scoffed. “More like we’re all trying harder.”
“That, and the crowd is with you. I know that’s giving you guys a boost.”
“That’s been nice.” Cam nodded in agreement. “I can barely differentiate Ty’s screams from all the others.”
“Hey,” I said, grabbing his arm to make sure he was paying attention—“you got this.”
“Maybe I should’ve worn your lucky jockstrap.”
“I can always go grab it if you want.”
“Are you kidding? There’s no time for that!”
“Well, you should definitely wear it for the all-around then.”
“Wear what?” Ezra asked, walking up with Zane by his side.
“Luke’s lucky jockstrap,” Cam answered.
“I definitely did not need to hear that,” Zane said, backing off a few steps to give us some space.
“Does that really work?” Ezra sat down next to Cam. “I could sure use some luck right about now.”
“Don’t look at me!” I said. “I’m not giving you my jockstrap.”
“Well yeah, I knew that.” Ezra chuckled. “I’ve just never been that superstitious.”
“Try not to think too hard about it,” I said.
“Just focus on one routine at a time,” Cam added. “You just need to do the vault. One vault. That’s it.”
“Easy for you to say. The vault is like getting out of bed for you.”
“You’re here for a reason, Ezra. No one can make you believe it but yourself.” Cam stood up. “Get ready. You’re next.”
Cam leaned down to steal a kiss from my lips and I wished him luck. He dropped his pants and headed up to the podium.
I’m gonna need him to bring that uniform to the hotel tonight.
“CAMDEN KANE. UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.”
Others had tried it. Some had even landed it, but no one did the Kane like its creator.
Cam’s smile was huge after he landed perfectly.
Not even an extra step. He couldn’t help but smile and his muscular arms told the crowd to get pumped and they listened.
His eyes found mine as he stepped off the podium, where our entire team was waiting.
“Great way to start us off, Camden,” Woodward gave him a smack on the ass.
Noah gave him a hug. The rest offered their congratulations, and before I could get to him, I watched Cam pull the team into a huddle. He was a natural leader.
The group broke, and Ezra headed up to the podium.
We held hands until we moved to the next apparatus.