False Starts

Chapter 12

THE London Olympic village was quite a sight: athletes milling about, snippets of conversations in different languages here and there, and people taking dozens of pictures.

      Ryan barely noticed any of it.

      He had no recollection of walking through the village or reaching his room. All he could think about was Abbie. She went home the day before they left for London and she had called him the minute she got her hands on her phone, not caring what time it was in France. Incidentally, it was the middle of the night. Michael had thrown a pillow at him and told him to go to bed, although Ryan suspected it had less to do with him staying up late and more with the fact that he was talking to his girlfriend.

      Girlfriend. Abbie was Michael’s girlfriend.

      Ryan had to keep saying it to himself so he could believe it.

      He never asked what happened on their date. He never commented about the fact that Michael had come into their room about two hours after curfew that night. He didn’t join in when everyone teased him about it at lunch the next day. One look at Michael’s happy yet slightly red face and Ryan just knew. And he also knew he didn’t want to think about it.

      They had taken Abbie to the airstrip together, but Ryan had said his goodbye in the car, letting Michael walk Abbie to the plane alone. He had watched them talking for a minute, only looking away when Michael put a hand on Abbie’s cheek. Not because of the loving way Michael did it, but because Abbie smiled. It used to be that only Ryan could get her to smile like that. Like nothing else mattered except him.

      Now, in his room at the village, with its too small bed and bare dresser, Ryan lay staring at his phone, wanting nothing more than to hear Abbie’s voice again, despite the fact that he just hung up with her a couple of minutes ago.

      “Yo, Reezy!” Ryan heard Cullen banging on the door. “Come out and play!”

      I don’t want to play, Ryan thought. I just want to talk to Abbie. I want to see her.

      “Come on, Reez!” This time it was Conor on the other side. “There’re girls out here!”

      Better not let Lizzie hear you say that.

      “Ryan, I’m coming in, and you better not be lying naked on my bed!”

      No, Mike, I’m not.

      The door slammed open and in crashed Michael, Conor, Cullen and Matt. There was a loud chorus of “WHAT THE HELL, REEZY!” and a lot of swearing.

      Nathan came in behind them, facing away because he had been talking to someone. “So are we playing poker or – AARRGHHH!” he yelped when looked into the room, shielding his eyes.

      “Damn it, Lochte, put some fucking clothes on!” Matt hollered, turning away.

      The chorus of his friends’ voices and the realisation that they had, in fact, come into the room all at once roused Ryan from his fairly catatonic state.

      Michael tossed a blanket over Ryan’s naked form. “I was kidding when I said you’d better not be lying naked.”

      Ryan sat up and smiled lazily at his friends, wrapping the blanket around his torso. “What? I’m sexy and I know it,” he quipped and all of them facepalmed.

      “Can you at least know it in your underwear?” Nathan groaned, his hands still covering his eyes. “Boxers? Speedos? Something?”

      Ryan rolled his eyes. “Y’all are being stupid. We see each other naked all the time in the changing rooms.”