“Arikoishe.”
“Coach,” she replied, concerned by the seriousness of his tone.
“Have you heard from Gracie?”
“Yeah, her flight kept getting canceled because of the storm. But she should get here by tomorrow though, right?”
“She’s not going to be here tomorrow; there’s been an accident,” Coach said. Ari’s stomach dropped. He quickly clarified. “Don’t worry, she’s okay, she’s already out of hospital.”
But Ari was already imagining worst-case scenarios. “What happened?” she asked.
Coach sighed. “She fell, badly, and tore her ACL.” He began pacing around the room as he explained what happened. “She’s too injured to play, so she won’t be joining us these next few weeks… or competing at the Olympics.”
Ari froze. A part of her reasoned that if she sat completelystill and didn’t make a sound, she could convince herself that this wasn’t happening. Trick her brain into believing this was a bad dream and rewind her watch by a week to change the course of time. Maybe that way she could stop Gracie from going ice skating after Christmas and return her life to a timeline that made sense.
But sitting still wasn’t enough to stop the next fifteen seconds from happening. Or stop the next sentence Coach McLaughlin said from altering her team’s future. She watched as Coach walked around the room before returning to his desk.
“This isn’t the way things were supposed to happen, so we won’t tell the rest of the team until after New Year’s. You all deserve a break before things heat up. But Arikoishe, I’m telling you first because I’m making you the new team captain.”
Ari’s mouth dropped open.
“What?” she asked. Coach gave her what was supposed to be a reassuring look. But it didn’t do anything to stop the wave of doom from washing over her.
Ari was a player, not a captain. She didn’t know how to stop her teammates from going to a misjudged New Year’s Eve party, never mind how to lead them to anything that resembled victory at their first Olympics. But before she could protest, reason, or try to convince Coach McLaughlin to change his mind, his head turned toward the noise outside his door. She turned in her seat and glanced through the glass office door to see that her teammates had left the locker room and were walking down the hallway. She could hear the sounds of laughter and twenty-two pairs of trainers hitting the freshly waxed wooden floors as they made their way through the building. Blissfully unaware that their dreams were at risk.
“Coach, I don’t think I’m ready,” she said, scrambling to get him to change his mind.
“I wouldn’t give you the responsibility if I didn’t think you could handle it,” he said as he opened the door and walked toward the water fountain in the hallway. Ari got up from her seat and followed him out. She had a dozen questions. But before she could ask him anything, her teammates flooded the corridor. Abuzz with chatter about some party.
“Let’s talk about it tomorrow, okay?” he said.
“Talk about what?” asked Sienna.
“Nothing to worry about,” said Coach. But Ari could see the apprehension in his eyes. “Anyway, it’s four p.m. on New Year’s Eve. What are you still doing here? Enjoy your last night of freedom,” he said, waving them a cheerful goodbye.
“Come on, Ari. We have a party to get ready for,” said Yasmeen.
The winter chill washed over her as soon as they stepped outside. It was already dark out, and the uneasy feeling that always found her in the week between Christmas and New Year’s Eve felt stronger than ever. But tonight was supposed to be a celebration, so Ari let her friends drag her across the boot-camp grounds. She did her best not to let her feelings show, but Sienna noticed her trailing behind and linked arms with her, pulling her in as the icy winter air blew against their skin.
“Next year, which is in less than twenty-four hours, we’re going to be Olympians,” said Sienna, her eyes twinkling as their footsteps crunched against a frosty patch of grass.
“Everything’s about to change,” said Izzy, looking up at the stars beginning to appear in the dark blue sky.
Ari just nodded. Everythingwasabout to change. But the watch on her wrist didn’t feel like it was counting down to the new year anymore. It felt like a doomsday clock ticking down until the moment the team’s fate was put into her uncertain hands.
2Drew
DECEMBER 31, 2025
Drew Dlamini had been a college dropout for twenty-three days.
Twenty-three days, four hours, and twelve minutes, to be exact.
He’d woken up on December 9 in a cold sweat. Shaken by a nightmare he couldn’t remember once the lights were on. So, he’d gotten out of bed, opened his laptop, and typed up an email with the subject line:WITHDRAWING FROM MY STUDIES.
Drew had sent the email first thing in the morning, so he couldn’t call it a late-night mistake. He’d edited it in the library on a Tuesday, so he couldn’t blame it on the Sunday Scaries. And he’d spent hours drafting and redrafting it until he was sure it wasn’t just a spur-of-the-moment decision.
So, Drew had nobody but himself to blame for why the first thing his grandma said to him when he walked into a London restaurant three weeks later was:
