“We’ve been training nonstop for weeks. We know our strengths, we’re working on our weaknesses, and we earned our way here. There’s no need to panic, because we’re prepared,” said Ari with practiced composure. It was the line she’d been telling herself every day for the past six weeks, the mantra she’d beenrepeating whenever she woke up in a cold sweat or the team’s nerves manifested on the ice rink.
Because something fundamental had shifted in the dynamic Ari had with her friends the minute Coach announced that she was their new team captain. There were twenty-three girls on the team, but Sienna, Izzy, and Yasmeen had always been her closest friends. They’d seen each other through breakups, birthdays, deadlines, and injuries. They genuinely loved spending time together, and in an emergency, they were the ones she would call. But overnight, Ari went from being their friend to becoming the leader who was supposed to be ten steps ahead.
So, instead of ending the nights after boot camp making tea and chatting to Ari about the girls she fancied, Izzy drank hot cups of lemon water and asked Ari for tips on improving her game and saving more goals. Rather than asking Ari to help her film videos for their team’s social accounts, Yasmeen sent her links to hockey analysis podcasts. And instead of spending hours on the phone sharing industry gossip and speculating about other ice hockey teams like she usually did, Sienna spent each boot-camp breakfast sharing her worries about what lay ahead of them. The girls were looking to Ari for reassurance, so she couldn’t let her doubts show. They’d landed in the Village by the skin of their teeth, but they hadn’t worked this hard to only come this far.
So, Ari was going to lead her team to victory.
However, when they walked into the hockey stadium and saw the ice rink, Ari was reminded of just how many hurdles they would have to jump to get to the other side. Because right there, speeding across the ice with enough focus, skill, and excellence that it sent a chill down her spine, was the one team they’d never won a match against in their lives. The winners of the International Ice Hockey Federation Championships and the team with the second-most Olympic ice hockey medals in the world.
Team USA.
They were so brilliant that it was annoying.
Ari and the other girls walked down the stadium’s steps and sat in the bleachers. Amelia, who played on defense, studied every move intently. Orla, one of the left wingers, gritted her teeth as she saw just how precisely their opposition scored. As Ari watched the Americans practice, the reality of the dream she was chasing came into focus. As did the sheer improbability that her team would achieve it.
When Team USA finished training, they skated out of the rink and looked up at the stadium. A few of them smiled and waved as they headed back to the locker room. But one player stayed on the rink and skated a final loop around the perimeter before gliding off the ice and taking off her helmet. Her dark brown hair tumbled down her back, and her face lit up with an expression that Ari could only interpret as twisted delight. Ari’s shoulders tensed, her mouth dried up, and her heart began to beat a little faster. Because the girl looking up at her from the ice was no ordinary Team USA hockey player. She was Thandie Dlamini—one of the best players in the league. And ever since Ari misjudged a tackle that had broken Thandie’s leg and stopped her from competing in the 2022 Winter Olympics, Thandie had been harboring a long and fraught personal vendetta against her.
It was an accident. Ari had only ever intended to take possession of the ice puck to win the game. She would have never gone out of her way to injure someone on purpose. But the match that almost ruined Thandie’s career had catapulted Ari’s team up the rankings. Team GB became the curious underdogs of the season, and the attention they’d gained for almost winning against one of the best teams in the world had boosted their visibility and won them an unexpected Zeus Athletics sponsorship. It wasn’t enough to take them to Beijing 2022, but it was enough to capture theattention and investment of some of the more senior figures who ran Team GB. In short: Thandie’s loss was Ari’s gain. And from the look on Thandie’s face as she stared up at the stands, it was clear that she still hadn’t forgiven her. In fact, Ari knew that Thandie had spent the past four years learning her weaknesses and getting into her head before every match to plot her downfall. What started as a friendly rivalry had become a one-sided feud. And now that they were both at the Winter Games, Thandie was finally in the position to get her revenge.
“See you on the ice,Captain,” Thandie said, her words laced with venom as she followed the rest of her team out.
Ari sighed and shook her head. Every decision she’d ever made came back to haunt her as her team stared blankly at the ice.
“We’re screwed, aren’t we?” said Sienna, rubbing her temples and closing her eyes.
Ari didn’t need to reply for them to know her answer:Yes. Yes, we are.
10Drew
THE DAY OF THE OPENING CEREMONY
Drew liked to delude himself into thinking he could gain people’s respect with talent and hard work. But Luizknewthat the quickest way to win over the other journalists in the press office was through good coffee and free pastries. So, when he mentioned that he was going to the café to pick up snacks for them, Drew immediately decided to tag along. He’d spent that morning out on the slopes with a group of Ukrainian snowboarders, taking photos of them midair, then sitting in the snow as they shared the moments that had led them to the Olympics. So, by the time he took his final photo, he was more than ready to get his freezing cold hands around a hot cup of coffee.
He spent the walk to the café quizzing Luiz about that evening’s opening ceremony and asking him about all the people he’d worked with in the press office. Luiz was in the middle of telling him a story about how he’d accidentally ended up as aguest on a Tanzanian news channel when Drew saw a familiar face in the crowd.
“Wait, is that Hans Leitner?” said Drew, turning his head at the man who’d just walked into the café. The seventy-two-year-old documentarian had an old Olympus film camera around his neck, a notebook in his hand, and a vintage Lake Placid 1980 Winter Games jacket resting on his shoulders.
“The man himself,” said Luiz with a nod. They watched as he ordered a flat white.
Hans Leitner had spent decades making Academy Award–winning documentaries about athletes, politicians, and public figures, including one of Drew’s favorites: an early 2000s film about one of the first Black Winter Olympic medalists.
“Should I go up to him?” he asked, thinking about how bizarre it was to see someone he idolized waiting in line for coffee like a regular person.
Luiz looked horrified at the suggestion. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I love his work.”
“Don’t meet your heroes. It never ends well.”
Drew knew that Luiz was probably right. But he couldn’t help but glance over at Hans and the film crew surrounding him with cameras, microphones, and matchingLEITNER PRODUCTIONScoats. Drew had always been drawn to taking photos, not videos, but there was something about the way Hans made his films that inspired Drew. He never took the obvious route when it came to the stories he told. When he’d made a film tracking the activity behind the scenes of the Oscars, he’d told the story through the walkie-talkie radio communications between the staff instead of filming regular camera interviews. When he’d made a documentary about a famous restaurant in the final week before its closure, he made the film from the point of view ofregular diners. Telling the restaurant’s story through its most loyal customers and their favorite meals.
“You want to meet someone like that when you have something to show him, a conversation starter,” said Luiz knowingly.
“And all I have now are standard press shots,” Drew agreed, knowing that there wasn’t anything close to spectacular on his camera’s memory card.
He was grateful for his assignment at Zeus. Working with a brand as big as theirs was the kind of opportunity that his freshman-year self would have dreamed of. But he didn’t want to just send Zeus folders of competition photos. With the right technique, anybody could get a shot of a snowboarder midair or a figure skater midspin. It was the intimacy of his New Year’s Eve photos that had made them so special. People craved the chance to get a behind-the-scenes look from the perspective of an insider. It’s what made celeb mirror selfies at the Met Gala and biopics of elusive musicians so compelling. Drew needed to fulfill his assignment and get the photos the team at Zeus had asked for. But he knew he would have to capture something more impressive if he wanted his temporary press pass to resemble anything that looked like a job. So, after he and Luiz collected the coffees and dropped pastries off at the press office, Drew grabbed his headphones and pressedPLAYonSongs in the Key of Life. It was his favorite album, the one he played whenever he needed to get out of a creative rut.
He’d gone to college with nothing but creative excitement and blind ambition, striving to make the kind of art that filled the walls of his favorite galleries. But as the semesters went on, he became acutely aware of the gap between the kind of work he wanted to make and the level of skill he actually had.
