I take another bite of the omelet and then a large sip from the orange juice. “I’ve gotta go, guys.” I lean over, kissing Dad on the cheek, then stand, stepping around the table, and give Mom a quick hug. “I’ll try to meet you in the lobby before you leave for the airport, okay?” I should have enough time between the team meeting and everything else to say goodbye. “Just in case, though, have a safe flight, and I’ll see you at home,” I say, giving Dad a big hug and then another one to Mom.
As I turn to leave, I look for Emma, but she’s already gone. Chelsea is getting up from her table as well. We naturally gravitate toward each other as we exit the restaurant and make our way to the conference room.
“It still hasn’t sunk in,” I whisper.
She smiles at me, almost the same way my mom did before. “Don’t try and force it. One day it’ll hit you that all of this is real.”
“And then I’ll have a nervous breakdown?” I ask, with a half laugh.
“Totally. I was walking down a street in LA with Ben”—that’s the boyfriend—“and I literally burst into tears. It was, like, six months after Rio.”
“You’re kidding?”
“Nope. Just started sobbing right there on the sidewalk. No idea where it came from, but it all hit me at once. For now, though, go with it. You’ve been to big competitions before. You went to worlds two years ago. Treat this like that, and then you can freak out about it all after!”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“Oh, it’s not, but I’ve got your back from here on out. It can be tough for women of color in this sport. We’re held to a different standard sometimes. If anything weird happens, come to me. We’ll figure it out together.”
We’re at the door to the conference room. It’s the longest conversation I’ve ever had with her, I think. Over the last year, I’ve tried to pretend like I’m not super intimidated by her success, but I’m not sure I’ve pulled it off completely.
“Ladies, take a seat,” says the same NGC worker from last night who saved me from those reporters.
Emma is already there sitting beside Sierra and Jaime. When I slide into the seat next to her, she shoots me a tight smile. This is it. Our journey to Tokyo begins now.
Gibby steps up in front of us, and we instinctually straighten to attention, our backs pressing up against the chairs. We’ve all been spoken to before about letting our posture slip, and the last thing we need is to get reamed over casually slumped shoulders.
“Okay, I think that’s everyone,” he says, and the NGC worker shuts the conference-room door. Everyone is here—all the bigwigs, the board of directors, reps from our major sponsors, our coaches, everyone.
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 to no comment beyond 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.”