“How did practice go, Sugar? Are you ready for the opening ceremony?” Grandma asked, her face lighting up as their drinks arrived. Drew thanked the waiter as he placed a hot Americano on the table. Drew picked it up and sat back, glad to no longer be the focus of attention.
“More than ready,” Thandie said, radiating confidence as she took a sip of her hot lemon-and-ginger tea. “The girls are killing it. We’re all on top of our game and that gold medal is ours.”
“How about the competition?” their grandpa asked, his eyeslighting up as he doted on Thandie. He was a die-hard ice hockey fan, always excited to hear the inside scoop.
“Weaker than ever,” Thandie said, smiling mischievously before her face darkened. “And guess who I saw watching us from the stands yesterday, looking like she’d seen a ghost?”
“Who?” Grandpa asked. He loved the behind-the-scenes drama as much as the sport.
“The girl who almost ruined my career,” Thandie said. Drew tried to trace his memory back to 2022, to remember the exact match that led to her injury. But his sister had been playing ice hockey since they were kids, so all the dramatic tournaments blurred into one.
“Were you okay seeing her?” Drew asked, concerned. He didn’t like knowing that anyone could have the ability to throw her off her game. Because he knew just how hard Thandie had worked to get here. The months of physical therapy, years of self-doubt, and countless days spent training to get back to her preinjury form. She deserved this more than anyone, so he refused to let anything get in his sister’s way.
“More than okay. It kind of lit a fire in me. Reminded me what I almost lost and how determined I am to make it right this year,” Thandie said, tapping the table in excitement. “We’re going tocrushher team. And I’m going to enjoy it more than anything I’ve ever done.”
“Be nice,” their grandma said reflexively as she lifted her teacup. But Thandie wasn’t fazed.
“Nice doesn’t win medals”—she grinned—“and I’m going home with gold.”
11Ari
THE OPENING CEREMONY
“I feel like I’m exactly three steps away from making an international embarrassment of myself,” said Ari as she and her teammates stood outside in the cold, waiting to go into the stadium with the rest of Team GB.
“Just put one foot in front of the other and stay focused on what’s in front of you,” said Izzy as she walked alongside Ari in her matching blue-and-white ceremony coat.
“And if your arms get tired, we’ll help you carry it,” Sienna said, tying a bright red woolly scarf around her neck.
Ari nodded as she stretched her arms out to accept the ten-foot flagpole the official was giving her. For reasons beyond her understanding, someone had decided to store them outside, meaning that by the time she clasped her gloved hands around it, the metal pole was freezing cold.
Months of planning went into deciding who would carry the flag for each competing country. There were short lists, votes,and secret discussions to decide each flagbearer. Flags were carried by multimedal-winning athletes, legendary coaches, and famous stars. And that year, Team GB had awarded the honor to two people: a legendary ski jumper competing for the last time and Gracie. But with Gracie back home in Canada, recovering from her accident, the officials were forced to find a quick replacement. When Ari got a call from an unknown number in the second week of January, she’d assumed it was some telemarketing scam. But the call had ended with an invite to become one of that year’s flagbearers: a symbol to celebrate their team making it to the Olympics for the first time. She’d accepted it with a stunned thank-you, as honored as she was terrified.
It was a strange flag. One that had been used countless times to divide the country and make people like her feel unwelcome in their own home. It was a physical reminder of all the ways the country had wreaked havoc on the other nations competing in the Games. And she got the sense that her ancestors were rolling in their graves as they watched her carry something they’d spent their lives trying to fight against. But as complicated as her relationship with it was, the Union Jack was a symbol of the place she called home. The flag belonged to her just as much as it belonged to everyone else on the team. So in spite of all its contradictions, she clutched it extra tight.
“I can’t believe this is really happening,” Ari said as she and her friends looked up. The flag was billowing in the early-evening wind, and above the flag was a bright night sky filled with more stars than she’d ever seen all at once. She could already feel the moment forming into the kind of memory she’d spend the rest of her life playing back. She wanted to pause and take it all in, but the ceremony was running on a tight schedule. So, with the help of her friends, she shifted the flagpole and carried it throughthe crowd, passing by a dozen photographers and journalists as they hurried along.
She was taking in each detail of the stadium when she spotted a flicker of something familiar. Someone familiar. She vaguely recognized a photographer in the crowd but she was too far away from the stands to make out the details of his face. Maybe he was a photographer that covered the ice hockey circuit? Or a sports journalist she’d met at a match in the past? He walked away before she could get a closer look. So, she shook her head, refocusing her attention on carrying the flag to the stadium gates where she was met by the other flagbearer, a kind man in his early forties competing for the final time. He’d spent the past hour caught up in doing a news interview, but now that he was done, he reached over to take turns carrying the flagpole as they walked to the entrance together. When they reached the entrance, they were met by the rest of the athletes on Team GB—a crowd of people Ari had known for years. She waved at a bobsledder from Edinburgh who she’d met at the gym, hugged a figure skater from Sheffield who’d taught her how to do an Axel jump a few summers ago, and gathered alongside her friends to take a photo with the men’s ice hockey team. At one point, she briefly spotted Harrison trying to make his way toward her in the crowd, so her friends put a twenty-something-person barrier between them to stop him from getting in the way of a perfect night. But Ari knew that even he couldn’t ruin this moment for her, because, after hundreds of matches and early-morning training sessions, she was finally at the Olympics.
When the volunteers finally opened the gates and the announcer called out “Great Britain,” the audience roared. The intensity of it caught her by surprise, so much so that she momentarily lost her grip on the flag. Her eyes widened as she watched it fall; but before it could hit the ground, Sienna caughtit and handed it back. The two of them laughed as the rest of their team cheered. Izzy squeezed her shoulder, and Yasmeen recorded a video of them walking around the stadium with over two hundred other athletes in matching uniforms, living out their childhood dreams.
Ari had no idea what would happen over the next two weeks. The odds of their Gracie-less team winning even one preliminary game were practically impossible. Ari knew it, the rest of the team knew it, and the pundits back home had so little faith in them that they’d likened their arrival in St. Moritz to watching lambs skating over to a slaughterhouse. But moments like this only came around once in a lifetime. So, as the crowd cheered and confetti fell on their shoulders, Ari decided to just enjoy this magical moment with her best friends. The stadium was filled with people wearing bright coats, colorful scarves, and flag-themed hats. The crowd was dancing, waving their hands from side to side and cheering them on with every step. It felt like something out of a dream. Ari looked around and tried to take it all in. But she couldn’t stop staring up at the sky.
Bright, dazzling fireworks were shooting out of the stadium, brightening the dark winter night and sending bursts of light against every surface in her line of sight. It reminded her of New Year’s Eve. Ari had tried her best to push the memory of that night to the side and, thanks to the long days she’d spent in hockey practice, there’d barely been time to think about anything other than the next match. But as a bright dot shot up and burst into a brilliant explosion of white-and-gold lights, she couldn’t help but wonder where the guy she’d met on the roof that night was right now. Whether he was somewhere else in the world, watching the opening ceremony on TV, or staring up at another firework-lit sky.
She carried on walking, her team cheering behind her. Whenshe looked out at the crowd, her eyes zeroed in on the press pit again. They were closer now, and she could make out the details of people’s faces. There were a few photographers and journalists she knew from past international games, but that’s not where her focus landed. When she’d first spotted a familiar face in the crowd, her thoughts had been so far away from New Year’s that she hadn’t even thought to make the connection. But when her eyes landed on a boy aiming his camera up at the sky, she realized that her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her. She knew exactly who she was looking at. The memory of the last time she’d seen him came back to her with startling clarity.
It was the boy from the roof. Drew.
But what on earth washedoinghere?
12Drew
THE OPENING CEREMONY
MESSAGE FROM:Zeus BTS team
Key people:First-time Olympians
