I smile at Pauline, who gives me a sharp shake of the head in response. That’s odd. Pauline is usually all fake smiles at meetings like this. Even when she’s in a bad mood, she doesn’t want to give off the vibe that she’s annoyed with us in case it makes Gibby think we’ve done something wrong. I survey the room again, and then it clicks.
Dani’s missing.
“Hang on,” Chelsea says from beside me. “Where’s …”
Gibby cuts her off with a raised eyebrow, and she sits back, still looking confused.
“Ladies, before we get started, I have an announcement to make. I am duty-bound to inform you that the results from your drug tests just prior to the start of trials arrived last night, and unfortunately, Dani Olivero has been suspended from the team for a violation pursuant to the joint anti-doping policy of the NGC and the USOF.”
The anti-doping policy?
Holy crap, Dani failed her drug test.
Gibby’s still talking, and I refocus on him. “As you know, we have a zero-tolerance policy when it comes to violations of this nature. Thus, she’s been removed from team as per USOF guidelines.”
He hesitates and looks us over, holding eye contact with each of us for a moment. When he reaches me, I keep my expression blank, the same way I do when we line up before a practice or competition. Showing no emotion is better than showing the wrong one. Not that I have any idea which is the right one. Shock? Anger? Disbelief? Confusion? They’re all swirling through me, but he’ll never know that.
Once he seems satisfied that we’ve all understood whatever it is he was trying to impart, Gibby smiles and says, “As heartbreaking as this news is and as disappointed in Dani as we are, there is still some joy to be found in all of this. I’m thrilled to announce that Sierra Montgomery, due to her phenomenal abilities and years of dedicated training, has been promoted from alternate and named to the team. Congratulations, Sierra!”
His hands come together once and then again, applauding her, and we join in. My hands mechanically clap over and over, but my brain hasn’t quite caught up with the information it has to process. Dani suspended. Sierra promoted. Just like that. One dream dead. Another alive.
Sierra lets out a noise from her throat that’s somewhere between a squeak and a scream. “I … I don’t … Thank you,” she manages to choke out after a moment. Her hand is holding Jaime’s so tight her knuckles are white. Jaime’s face is frozen in what looks like an epic internal battle between excitement for her best friend and the totally natural resentment of still being an alternate.
“You’ve worked hard for this, and you deserve it.” And with those words, his expression lightens almost immediately, his shoulders relaxing. “So, today we will proceed as planned with our photo shoot and outfitting, but obviously we’ve canceled the press conference so none of you have to handle questions about these changes. The NGC and USOF will release a joint press announcement to take care of that. However, if, somehow, anyone does ask you anything about this situation or the NGC investigation, please direct them to our media relations department and stick tono commentbeyond that. We operate the way we always have. What happens within the NGC stays in the NGC. Understood?”
“Yes, sir!” we chorus together, the same response we use whenever he addresses us as a group. The high of last night and this morning is gone. My heart starts to race worse than it ever has before a big routine, or even last night when Leo almost kissed me. A lump slides up into my throat, but I swallow it back down. Showing weakness isn’t an option, not now. Not ever.
“What do you think she was taking?” I whisper as we all stand together on a grassy hill just outside the hotel. It’s a perfect day, blue skies and warm summer rays, but the mood around the team is anything but sunny. Ahead of us, Brooke and Sarah are posing for the NGC and USOF photographers. They’re getting pictures of us for the press releases about to be sent out around the world.
“Probably a diuretic,” Emma says. “She lost a bunch of weight in the last year or so, and it lines up with her results starting to improve. It makes sense.”
“There is no way Dani was doping. She’s too smart to do that,” Chelsea bites out from between her teeth.
“Smart doesn’t matter. We were all desperate to make the team, Chels. She tried to give herself an edge, and she got caught.”
Chelsea shakes her head. “I’m telling you, there is no way. The results were probably a false positive. This will be cleared up when the results from yesterday’s tests come in.”
“He said she’s off the team, though,” I say. “Like, it doesn’t feel like there’s a lot of wiggle room there.”
“She cheated,” Sierra joins in, with Jaime on her heels, “so I’m not giving up the spot that should have been mine in the first place.”
Chelsea whirls around, but the photographer calling us over stops her from saying whatever was about to fly out of her mouth. She just quirks an eyebrow at Sierra and then spins away, leading us to where they want the four girls on the team to pose for a group shot.
Over the next hour, we take pictures in every combination possible to make sure the NGC has photos ready to go, no matter what happens between now and the actual competition. We each sit out one of the group shots, and it really hits home that despite everything we’ve been through to get to this point, nothing is guaranteed, especially now that Dani is gone.
We’re brought to a room where we fill out paperwork for the US Olympic Federation, which will be sent on to the International Olympic Federation. It’s full of basic information like our birthdays and our favorite hobbies and TV shows, along with more personal medical information in case something happens to us while we’re in Japan.
I’m glad I said goodbye to my parents earlier, because I definitely missed the time they left by more than an hour. And then suddenly all of us are in an elevator, the same one I took upstairs with Leo, and it’s completely silent. Seven when there should be eight.
I pull out my phone and quickly type a message to Dani I’ve wanted to send since we first got the news.
Are you okay?
For the briefest moment, there’s a small bubble with a “…” and then nothing. She saw the text and maybe even started to type a reply, but then decided not to answer. Or someone stopped her from answering.
By the time I look up from my phone again, Emma and I are at our door and she’s letting us in. The room is a bit neater, but still mostly the mess we left it in that morning. There’s stuff everywhere— makeup strewn across the bathroom counters, training clothes, street clothes for the small amount of time we actually got to spend not in the gym, leos and the special underwear that goes beneath them, regular underwear and bras, what looks like an entire slab of half-empty water bottles, and a lot of towels.
“Em, did you text Dani? She’s not answering me.”
