Chapter 1
Beca stepped out of the gym, dripping with sweat. Today's practice was her last one on American soil before she and the other Olympians would be heading over to Rio for the 2016 Summer Olympics. Even though she'd been counting the days, it was still kind of hard to believe it.
When she stepped outside, the reporters that had been waiting, immediately surrounded her.
"Beca, are you nervous?" One of them asked, shoving his mic in her face.
Beca flashed the cameras a confident smirk, "Nervous? Yeah, I mean I'm 19 and about to compete at the Olympics for the first time. I think it's normal for to be a little nervous."
Another reporter took his shot at asking her a question, "What do you want to take away from these Olympics?"
"Gold," Laughter rippled through the small crowd of people surrounding her. "Nah, I know the ladies I'm competing against for the 100 meter are amazing. Like obviously I hope to get a podium, but if that doesn't happen then there's always the experience, you know? It's a big deal and huge honor for me just to be attending."
They flung more questions at her, but she had to go so she started walking to her car while waving at the cameras. When she got into it, she rolled down the window and said, "I promise everyone here that every athlete on our team will work hard to make our country and everybody in it proud."
With one last smile, Beca peeled away from the curb and onto the road. With her hands gripping the steering wheel, and her foot on the accelerator pushing the speed limit, she thought back to a time when running was punishment for her.
Growing up, Beca wasn't the most studious kid. She would always cut classes, and when she actually did go, she'd just spend the entire time fucking around and pissing off her teachers.
Most of them reacted to her like most teachers would; kicking her out of class, calling her parents, or sending her to the office. Those disciplining methods only made Beca's attitude towards school worsen, and it almost got to the point where she didn't want to go back. But she was glad she did because if she hadn't, she would've never met her ninth-grade math teacher, Mrs. Abernathy.
Mrs. Abernathy figured that Beca was acting out because she had so much pent-up energy and nowhere to direct it. So, instead of sending Beca to the office where she'd sit around with nothing better to do then hate on school, Mrs. Abernathy made her run laps around the football field.
At first, Beca wanted nothing more than to hate it, but after a few days of doing it, she found that she liked putting her energy into something less self-destructive. She started setting goals for herself during laps and when she beat those, she joined the track team easily breaking all their records too. Mrs. Abernathy convinced her to move onto city records which she broke with a bit of effort. Then she went on to state records which involved a lot more time spent training but she still managed to break them just the same.
She did marathons and races most weekends. She'd run every morning before people woke up. She'd run to tire herself out before bed. She'd run when she was mad, sad or upset—which would usually only happen when she couldn't break a record or reach a personal goal. She'd run to clear her head or more and more frequently, for fun.
Beca had finally found her purpose. And she loved it. She loved it more than she'd ever loved anyone or anything. She loved the way her muscles burned in satisfaction after a particularly long run. She loved the way her heart beat in between the times her feet slapped the ground. She loved the feel of wind that barrelling past her, the adrenaline in her veins, the competition, the speed. She loved it all.
Making a split decision, as was the norm when she decided to get a tattoo in the past, she made a U-turn and drove down to the tattoo parlor, Body Electric. Most of the other athletes had gotten the rings so she figured she'd do it too, but with her own personal twist.
She went in and a guy who had his own impressive collection of tattoos asked her what design she had in mind.
"The Olympic Rings," Beca said proudly.
"In color?"
"Yeah. I want a pair of sneakers in the bottom right corner and the US flag at the back of one sneaker." She stopped herself there before she could ask him to do something stupid like add her name in one of the stars in the American flag.
The guy nodded looking amused, "How big would you like it and where?"
Beca scratched her head, thinking where the best spot would be. "Just above my ankle. 3 inches by an inch and a half?"
"Is that a question?"
Beca shook her head.
He told her to sit down on a chair and put her foot on a stool while he got his equipment ready.
Beca pulled out her phone and texted her best friend Jesse.
Beca: I'm getting inked again.
Beca took a selfie and attached it to the text before hitting send.
The guy came back and started the tattoo on Beca. It tingled and pinched a bit but didn't really bother her.
Her phone buzzed.
Jesse: If I ever got a tattoo it'd say something like...where we're going we don't need roads or there's no crying in baseball. Lol.
Beca rolled her eyes.
Beca: I'm guessing you're watching Back to the Future as we speak.
Jesse: Just finished, actually. I'm starting League of Their Own now. You could join me?
Beca: Or I could not join you?
It surprised Beca sometimes that Jesse could be as lean and fast as he was when he spent most of his time on his couch watching movies.
When the tattoo was done, the guy taped it, instructed her on all the proper ways to take care of it and told her that she couldn't donate blood for six months.
Beca nodded not really listening. She'd been through it all before.
She paid him and cruised down the streets of LA with the windows rolled all the way open, the wind tangling in her hair, and music blasting through the speakers.
Beca woke up the next day with a giant smile on her lips and her phone rumbling against the nightstand beside her. Today was the day. She and the rest of Team America were going to Rio De Janeiro and couldn't believe this was actually happening.
She reached over and accepted the call.
"Hey, Becaw!" Jesse yelled through the phone. "I have exactly six words for you: we are going to the Olympics!”
"I know," Beca grinned at the phone. She would never admit it, but she was glad Jesse would be going to Rio with her. "I'm not even mad that you woke me up."
"Great! Now hurry up and get ready. I'm parked outside your apartment." Jesse hung up before Beca could respond.
Beca shook her head amused.
They'd be moving into the Olympic village in Rio today, but the actual Olympic opening wouldn't start until a week later. Then it was none stop sports and hopefully medals until the 21st of August.
Her schedule was nothing but training until day 8, where she would be in Heat 2 for Round 1. Day 9 would be the semi-finals and then the night after that would be the final race. Then for the rest of the Olympics, she'd get to relax and cheer on her fellow Americans until the closing ceremony.
Beca showered and put on a pair of Nike shorts and a white Adidas soccer shirt. She'd done ads for both companies before and as a 'thank you' they had given her an endless supply of their gear.
She dried her hair, and did her routine of 100 push-ups, 60 pull ups, high knees, and even managed to fit in a quick run on her elliptical after eating her breakfast of eggs, whole-wheat toast, oat waffles and bacon.
With one last look around her apartment, she grabbed her luggage off the floor and headed out the door to Jesse's car.
He gave her a severely pained look while she buckled in. "For someone who made it in the top ten fastest women list, you sure do take a long time getting ready."
"Shut up," Beca laughed, whacking his thick bicep with the back of her hand.
The drive to the airport was mostly silent. Both of them thinking about what the next week and 16 days could do for their athletic career and telling themselves that even if they didn't win a single medal, they had still reached a huge stepping stone in their lives by just going.
Most of the Olympians and coaches were already there when they pulled up to the airport, and after a quick debriefing, they all got on the flight to take their seats. Beca's was between Jesse's and the team's diver, Stacie Conrad.
"What're you guys most looking forward to?" Stacie asked.
Beca shrugged, "My race, I guess."
"Self-centered," Jesse joked. "I'm looking forward to seeing those smoking hot Canadian beach-volleyball babes in action."
Beca raised her eyebrows, unimpressed. "Canadians? Out of all every possible thing, you're looking forward to the Canadians?"
Jesse went off about how Beca shouldn't talk when she'd never even seen them before, so Stacie googled them on her phone and hummed approvingly when they came up on her screen. She the device for Beca to see.
On the screen was a picture of two tan and perfectly toned girls. One was of them was blonde, tall, and wearing a red bikini. The name under her picture said, Aubrey Posen. The other was redheaded and wearing a white bikini. Her name was Chloe Beale.
"The redhead's cute," Beca mentioned, nodding her head casually. Truthfully, she was a lot more than cute. With her clear blue eyes, straight white teeth, and athletically lean body, Chloe was aesthetically perfect.
"Cute?" Jesse gasped, clutching his chest. "Since when do you call anything other than your Nikes cute?"
"Oh, shut up," Beca said, rolling her eyes.
Stacie laughed.
The pilot's voice came on over the intercom, "Everyone buckle in; We're about to take off for Rio De Janeiro."