Finding Our Course: Collision Course Duet

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Finding Our Course: Collision Course Duet Page 17

by Ahren Sanders


  He continues to laugh while talking, “I know you will, babe. It was a safety thing.”

  “Well, the legal drinking age in Brazil is eighteen anyways.”

  “Yes, but I’m hoping you’re so wrapped up with work that partying will be the last thing on your mind. I don’t like to think about what could happen down there.”

  His voice changes to serious, and I know my protective Bryce is about to come out. “No need to worry. We’ve talked about this.”

  “Can we eat something?” Quinn interrupts purposely, rubbing her stomach dramatically.

  “Quinn’s hungry.”

  “Call me before you go to bed. Don’t forget. Love you.” He hangs up, and my heart skips a beat. Will I always have this reaction to just his words?

  Quinn and I are not the only ones who can’t disguise our excitement when we step off the bus. There are a lot of wide eyes and gaping mouths when we see the wonders around us. Our hotel is in close proximity of Olympic Village and the host facilities for the Olympic Games.

  A chill runs up my spine, and goose bumps break out over my skin at the pure magnitude of this moment. In a little over a year, hundreds of thousands of people from all over the world will walk on this very spot. Quinn meets my gaze and shows the same reaction.

  I’d love to grab my camera from my bag, but I settle on my phone to get a few snapshots. After a few moments, we are ushered into the hotel and directed to a large conference room. The table’s set up with colored packets and name badges. The packets in front of me and the three people to my right are all blue, which I assume means this is my team.

  Professor Grant welcomes us and explains that we are indeed seated next to our team members. Quinn scowls, clearly unhappy about being separated. I scrunch my nose, letting her know I’m not pleased either. To my horror, a throat clears, and Professor Grant is eyeing us.

  I sit up straighter and try to control the blush creeping up my cheeks. He goes back to reviewing the agenda when the door opens. I literally gasp out loud when some of the biggest names in news walk in. The hair on my arms stands when Shana Willis stops behind the four of us on the blue team.

  My eyes meet Quinn’s and hers are as wide as mine. We absolutely admire Shana. Sometimes, when we’re in crazy moods, we’ll prance around the apartment using our fists as microphones and pretend to cover a breaking news story. Usually, it’s after we’ve had a few drinks.

  My hands start to tremble when she taps me on the shoulder to introduce herself. I try my best to be normal but fail miserably.

  “I-I-I’m Devon Willis.” Oh shit! “I mean, I’m Devon H-H-Harris. You’re Shana Willis.”

  Her lips tip up as she takes my hand. “Nice to meet you, Devon Harris.”

  I slink back in my seat and watch her introduce herself to my other team members. This is where I learn their names: Eric, Kenny, and Crystal.

  The squeaky voice across the table catches my attention, and I watch Quinn blubber her own introduction to Bill Tames. I completely feel her pain. This man survived an attack overseas, and instead of heading back to the safety of the U.S., he stayed and interviewed survivors and families of the fallen. We both hit the jackpot with our professional mentors.

  Shana pulls up a chair, and we review the information in the folders. A few hours later, we’re dismissed to go to our rooms and get settled in our home away from home for the next six weeks.

  Quinn and I contain ourselves until we are closed in our room before we both unleash our excitement. After dissecting every detail of our meetings, and the new people we’ll be working with, she goes downstairs to make some calls.

  I shoot a quick text to my parents, promising to call later, and then dial Bryce. He picks up on the first ring.

  “Babe.”

  “You are not going to believe what I have to tell you!” I jump right into my day, trying not to miss any details.

  He listens until I’m winded from talking so fast. There’s humor in his voice when he finally gets a chance to talk as I stop to take a breath.

  “So happy for you. You’re going to take this opportunity by storm.”

  “Really? You think so?”

  “Absolutely. I couldn’t be happier. Damn, I’m going to miss this.”

  The excitement disappears, remembering he leaves at four am tomorrow for Rhode Island. Our communication will be severely limited with our schedules.

  “Don’t do it, Devon. I can feel your attitude changing. Don’t lose that spunk.”

  I take in a deep breath and clench the phone tighter. “I’m not going to let you miss this. I’ll make a point to do as many videos as possible and send them to your phone. You can watch them when you’re not busy.”

  He laughs again, and it hits straight to my heart. I wish I could record that sound.

  “All right, that’s a good plan. Now, tell me more about what you’re doing, hotshot. What’s the plan?”

  I read him the agendas and different areas we’ll be going. We stay on the phone a while, me not wanting to let him go. Finally, he makes me hang up when my words start to mumble from exhaustion.

  “Behave yourself, Devon Marie, and remember, I’m your number one fan,” he tells me before whispering he loves me and hangs up. The last thought I have is “I’m not doing this for me; I’m doing it for us.”

  Chapter 7

  How many people can say that they get to jump off the 10m platform with an Olympic contender on their twentieth birthday? I swallow hard and silently pray I live through this. Heights terrify me. My stomach lurches into my throat and threatens to choke me.

  “Come on, cheer girl! You can do this!” Crystal yells from the safety of the concrete poolside, waving fake pom-poms in the air.

  Eric, Kenny, Crystal, and Shana are all in position, watching me. Eric has a video camera, waiting for me to give him the signal.

  A hand reaches over to grab mine, and I jump slightly. Eli smiles at me warmly, encouraging me to step forward. “Anytime you’re ready, love.” The smooth accent does nothing to stop the ringing in my ears.

  “How did you talk me into this again?” I ask the British diver nervously.

  “I’d like to think it was my charm.” He winks, making me smile.

  A sense of calmness washes over me, and I squeeze his hand and motion that I’m ready. I breathe in deep, committing this feeling so I can write about it later.

  Eli gives me a chin jerk. I nod, and then we jump together.

  “EEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!” I scream as soon as we’re airborne. In less than two seconds, we’re submerged in the water and kicking to the top.

  The small crowd claps and screams when my head surfaces. Eli’s beside me, treading water and whistling as well.

  “How’d it feel?” he asks through a smile.

  “Exhilarating. Terrifying. Amazing!” I shout.

  “Ready to try it again and actually dive?”

  His sexy accent gives me a slight tremble. Quinn is going to die when I tell her this story.

  “Yes!” I agree and swim to the ladder.

  “Face those fears, Harris!” Shana slaps me on the shoulder as I pass her.

  This time, as I climb to the platform, I’m not nearly as nervous. Eli stands with me again, and we dive into the water below. Well, he dives graciously. Mine is more like a flop.

  Once we do this twice more, we join the group waiting for us. I dry off while Eli answers questions regarding his training and routine to prepare for qualifiers. When he’s done, I thank him and go to the area designated to change.

  Shana’s waiting on me when I step out of the stall.

  “I’m proud of you, Devon.”

  “That means the world to me. Thank you.”

  “You’re quite impressive. All of you are, but you especially. Twenty years old and so ambitious. When I was twenty, my summer was spent as a cart girl at the local country club, trying to get the attention of the cute boys.”

  “No, you didn’t. You were rally
ing students to protest against the mistreatment of children in—” I snap my mouth shut, realizing I sound like a stalker.

  She throws her head back and laughs. “That was when I was twenty-one, but I’m honored you’ve done your research.”

  Blush creeps up my cheeks. “Please don’t think I’m a crazy fan girl. I really admire your work. My best friend, Quinn, does, too.”

  “Quinn Jackson, right?”

  I nod.

  “Well, I admire your work as well. When Henry–Professor Grant —asked me to take on a group, I only agreed if I could hand pick my team.”

  “You picked me?” my voice squeaks.

  “Sure did.”

  “W-w-why?”

  “Several reasons.” She doesn’t elaborate further. “So let’s wrap this up and have a birthday celebration.”

  I follow her out and send a quick text to Bryce.

  Can’t wait to tell you about my day. Love you!

  The phone rings, and I scramble over the bed to reach it. The time reads three-thirty am, which is five-thirty Bryce’s time. We discovered last week that this is the best time to catch each other if we want to talk at all. Otherwise, it’s a series of missed calls, messages, or texts.

  “Hello,” I whisper.

  “Hey, babe. How was your birthday?”

  “Did you see the video I sent?”

  “Oh, yeah.” His voice goes tight.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Who was that guy?”

  “Eli?”

  “Is that his name?” Bitterness is evident in his tone.

  “Are you jealous of Eli?”

  “Considering he was holding your hand, yes. You couldn’t have missed the way he was looking at you.”

  “He’s a diver from the UK. I told you about meeting him.”

  “I thought you were meeting a woman diver. How’d you get paired up with him?”

  I roll over, curling into a ball. Even though Quinn has been cool about the early morning calls, I try to be as quiet as possible.

  “Bryce, he’s harmless.”

  He grumbles a few seconds and then sighs. “Can’t help it. Was there a need for him to hold your hand? Touch you at all?”

  “I jumped over thirty feet into a pool. Yes, there was a need.”

  He’s silent a few more seconds, and then his tone changes. “Proud of you, Devon. Though, I will tell you, Nate and I both agreed your squeal was a bit dramatic.”

  “Did you hear me say I jumped over thirty feet? That calls for dramatic!”

  He starts laughing, and my heart swells. It’s been weeks since he left for Rhode Island. I miss him tremendously. As promised, I’ve sent him several videos and tried to keep him updated daily.

  “By the way, I love my birthday present.” I thumb the two charms he added to my charm bracelet. One is the Olympic rings and the other an anchor. “I almost cried when Quinn handed me the box this morning.”

  “Thought they were appropriate. Tell me about the rest of your day.”

  I start from the time we arrived at the training pool facility and continue all the way until Shana took us out to dinner to celebrate. She even invited Quinn.

  “Sounds like a cool woman. And she’s brilliant to pick you for her team.”

  “Ha ha. I wish she could have picked me and Quinn.”

  “That’s another reason she’s brilliant. She didn’t.”

  “Bryce!” I try to sound offended but can’t.

  “Remind that Asno I did him a favor by hauling your birthday present into another country and making sure you got it,” Quinn rumbles from her bed, clearly hearing me.

  “I heard her. Asno means jackass, right?” He chuckles. “Tell me more about your schedule. Remember, I’m going to be in specialized training the next eight days.”

  “Don’t remind me. I hate it.”

  “Devon—”

  “I know, I know. I have to be strong. Get used to it. Suck it up. All that bullshit.”

  “Devon, this is our life. Eight days is hardly anything. I warned you about this. What are you going to do when I’m gone for months?”

  Punch to the gut.

  “I’ll hate every minute, but I’ll deal.”

  “Good girl. Now, what’s on the agenda?”

  “Wrestling, beach volleyball, and archery. We have a few trips about an hour away to interview surrounding city officials. Shana was able to pull some strings, and we are doing an economic perspective on the effect of the games. It’s been done before, but she’s planning a new spin.”

  “Jesus, this woman’s a mastermind. Do the other teams get to do anything, or are y’all spearheading the trip?”

  “No, fucking Bill Tames did the unimaginable. He got his team inside the gymnastics training facility. Quinn gets to meet some of the gymnasts. Bitch.”

  A pillow hits the back of my head, and she growls.

  “Not sure what you two are going to do next summer to beat this,” he says.

  “Solve world hunger?” I say playfully.

  “Probably a good goal. I’d better go, babe. Love you.”

  “Love you too. Be safe.”

  He hangs up, and Quinn turns on the light between our beds. She looks at me sleepily but also with worry.

  “Dev, I hate to bring it up, but what are you going to do when he’s gone for long lengths of time?”

  “I’m going to rely on you, as I always do, to get me through.”

  She nods and gives me a small smile. “And I will get you through.”

  “Love you, Quinn.”

  “You better because I got permission to bring you to the gymnastics arena Thursday.”

  And that is why she’s my best friend.

  Chapter 8

  My palms are slick with sweat when I knock on the door. Shana’s voice rings out for me to come in, and I inhale deeply, trying to calm my nerves. She’s on the phone, standing by the window, and gives me a sign to hold on. I try to hide my smirk, taking in the mess in her room. Besides the bed being unmade and covered in clothes, the desk in the corner looks like an explosion of electronics, wires, and loose papers. Her tablet is set up on top of a portable printer that is currently spouting out paper.

  She catches my look and rolls her eyes, causing me to giggle. Finally, the knot in my stomach starts to unravel.

  Shana emailed me an hour ago, asking if I could meet with her privately before the party. Tonight is our last night in Rio, and after we land in Miami tomorrow, everyone will be going back to their lives for the rest of the summer. Quinn was out with her group, and Bryce and Nate both were unavailable to help me through my freak out, so I called my mom.

  She spent thirty minutes being her normal sense of reason and convincing me this was another chance for me to shine with Shana. I left my room with confidence. Now, that confidence has vanished.

  Shana barks orders into her phone and yanks the printed pages out, reciting some statistics. Finally, she sighs loudly and tells the person she’ll call them back. Her phone lands on the bed, and she gives me a wiry look.

  “Let me guess, you’re a neat freak?”

  I bite my lip, trying to think of what to say.

  “Don’t hold back. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  “Um, you don’t have to be a neat freak to be more organized.”

  She looks at me and throws her head back laughing. “It may look like a disaster, but I’ve organized it in my own way. I can find anything in a second.”

  I nod, not wanting to insult her.

  “You don’t believe me. My boss didn’t at first either. She’s like you—OCD, neat, organized. Color codes her files, notebooks, and even production schedules. Her office looks like a rainbow threw up, but hey—whatever works.”

  I wring my hands and shift in place. My eyes look around the room one more time then lock with Shana’s. She’s still smiling widely. I shrug and admit, “Nothing wrong with color coding. It helps with project organization, and it’s also been pro
ven that color stimulates the brain.”

  “Ha! I knew it. You’re exactly like her.” She points, wagging her finger jokingly.

  Finally, I fully relax and laugh along with her. “Well, it can’t be all that bad. She is your boss after all.”

  “Yes, that’s exactly right. And I adore her. She’s actually the reason I asked you to come meet with me.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, have a seat.” She motions to the only empty chair in the room. I sit and watch in horror as she scoops up loose papers and shoves them to the side with no regard to organization.

  “Tell me about him.” Her question takes me off guard.

  “Who?”

  “The boy… the guy… the man in your life. The person who you’ve been texting for six weeks. I’m perceptive, Devon, and good at my job. You’re easy to read, too. For weeks, you’ve been surrounded by some good-looking men, both athletes and peers. Not one has even turned your head. But the second that phone in your pocket dings, your face lights up in anticipation. I know a woman in love. So tell me, who is he?”

  “He’s my fiancé. His name is Bryce Randolph. He’s in the Navy and the most thoughtful, wonder—” I stop my gushing and inwardly curse myself.

  “It’s true. You do have it bad. From what I heard, he’s got it bad, too.”

  “Wait? What?”

  “I knew who he was but had to hear it from your mouth.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I like you, Devon. Not until I joined the network was I ever challenged with peers. No one had the ambition I do. That may sound cocky and arrogant, but it’s true. When my mind is set on something, nothing stops me. Like you mentioned in the locker room that day, I was twenty-one when I led my first rally. We were young and misled, but the feeling of making a difference set my course for life. Nothing and no one would get in my way.”

  “That’s what makes you one of the most respected women in journalism. People aspire to walk in your shoes and carry the influence and responsibility.”

 

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