“I’m sure your dean is thrilled with that.” I try to smother the embarrassment of college kids clearing out all the newsstands for points on their English essays.
“Actually,” she says, lowering the magazine, a smirk replacing her smile, “he asked for an autographed copy.”
“You’re a star,” Dad says, “and speaking of stars, Emma’s agent called yesterday. He’s been fielding calls about you all week.”
“Ugh, it isn’t anything dumb, is it? Like, I don’t want my face on—”
“I don’t know,” Dad cuts in, “is Adidas still cool? I feel like it’s probably still cool …”
“Are you kidding me?” I shriek. Aaron Judge is with Adidas. I could be with the same sponsor as Aaron Judge and, like, a million other superstars. What is even happening?
“Hey, Emma!” Dad says. I see her waving at them in the reflection of my laptop screen.
“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Lee!”
“Hi, sweetheart!” Mom says. “We had dinner with your parents just last night. Can’t wait to see both of you in Tokyo.”
“You too,” Emma says.
“We’ll let you go, Rey. You have a long flight ahead of you.” Twelve hours. On a plane. With Emma.
Yep, definitely going to be a long flight.
“Night, guys. Love you!”
Their image freezes, and I close the laptop.
“So, our parents are having playdates in our absence.” She laughs, but it’s high-pitched and totally fake.
“Yeah.”
We haven’t spoken since Sierra and Jaime got shipped back home to Oklahoma. Mrs. Jackson sent in our official Olympic roster, and as alternates, they don’t get to travel with the team since Brooke and Sarah will be in Tokyo to fill in if necessary. “Emma, I—”
“Mrs. Jackson said to bring our suitcases downstairs.” She keeps her eyes directly on her own luggage while she says it.
“Em—”
“Five minutes,” she says, wheeling her bags out of the room and not looking back.
I don’t even know what I was going to say to her. I just miss my best friend, but even if we can’t get that back, I still want to know why she sided with Sierra and Jaime, why she didn’t believe Dani.
I glance down at the bed, where my own copy of the magazine stares back at me. Chelsea and I are on the ends, with Dani and Emma in the middle. They’re standing back-to-back with their arms crossed over their chests, steely expressions in their eyes. Could it really just have been about their rivalry? Was that enough to keep Emma from believing Dani?
“Audrey! C’mon,” Chelsea calls from downstairs. “We need you for this!”
I tuck the magazine into my carry-on bag and then drag my two massive suitcases out of the room and down the stairs carefully.
Dani and Chelsea are waiting expectantly. Emma’s beside them, but she still won’t look at me, not even when I make it down the stairs and stand with them.
“Ladies, it’s been an experience for sure, but we still have one more thing to address before we head to the airport,” Mrs. Jackson says, walking into the room with Janet. She’s holding four pieces of paper and four pens in her hand. “We need a team captain. Secret ballot, write a name down, place it in …” She looks around and then snatches the knit cap Leo was wearing off his head, his curls bouncing out as soon as they’re released. “… here.”
My eyes fly to Chelsea. She’s the easy choice for this. She’s been to the Games before, and she knows exactly what we’re about to go through.
Mrs. Jackson hands out little sheets of paper to us, and I carefully write out Chelsea’s name and then smile at her when I hand it in. She’s already our captain in practice; might as well make it official.
Mrs. Jackson digs into the cap, flips through the four pieces of paper, and then looks up. “It’s a three-to-one vote. Audrey, congratulations.”
What, seriously?
