amplitude insane. Sol started to laugh like a loon, clapping as Tony prepped for his dismount. Come on, Tony. You’ve done everything you promised. Just one more and you’re home.
He released the bar into a triple twisting double layout, his air position perfect. His feet hit the mat, and he crouched, arms thrust out to the sides.
And didn’t fucking move.
Sol leaped up, punching the air, as Tony straightened, raising both arms in a triumphant V.
“Oh my fucking God,” Danny said. “He did it. He actually did it.”
Tony tapped the center of his chest, blew a kiss to the cheering crowd, and trotted off the podium, his grin so wide it nearly reached his ears. The team raced over to meet him, slapping his hand, hugging him, pounding his back. Sol was last, and if he held onto Tony a little longer than anybody else, so what? Screw it.
“I am so fucking proud of you,” Sol murmured into Tony’s ear before stepping back when Danny came in for a second round.
The four of them huddled in a circle, their arms across each other’s shoulders.
“It’s up to the judges now,” Tony said. “We’ve done our jobs, and we’ve done them well. Now we just have to wait for—”
A roar rose from the crowd and Sol looked up. Tony’s score was posted. Yes! Enough to pass the Russians. The gamble had paid off. We did it. We medaled!
Danny grabbed Sol’s shoulder. “Wait a minute, wait a minute. I think— Yes!” He whooped and leaped up, then wrapped Sol in a bear hug, squeezing his ribs until Sol couldn’t breathe.
“Danny,” he croaked. “What—”
But Danny let go, and as Sol stumbled to catch his balance, he pounced on Rahul next. God, was Rahul crying? Sol met Tony’s dumbfounded stare, his belly swooping like he’d missed a catch. God, was there a mistake? Is something wrong? But it couldn’t be or Danny wouldn’t be acting like a frenetic octopus.
Sol glanced up at the leader board—then did a double-take. Because the Japanese were at the top as expected, but Team USA wasn’t in third.
They were in second.
Sol’s knees nearly buckled, but Tony caught his arm, steadying him. “What happened? How did we—”
“The Chinese must have made a mistake on rings. That’s the only way they could have dropped behind us.” Tony caught Sol in a tighter hug than Danny’s. “We did it, Solly. We’re Olympic medalists. Silver medalists.”
Then Danny and Rahul were there, wrapping their arms around both Sol and Tony—and yes, Rahul was crying, but since Sol was tearing up too, he wasn’t about to mention it.
Olympic medalists. Team USA.
He met Tony’s shining eyes. And we couldn’t have done it without you.
Was the ground under his feet? Tony couldn’t tell. It must be down there somewhere, because he’d somehow moved from the arena to the dressing room. Maybe I teleported. He wouldn’t be surprised, because he kinda felt like he could do anything.
Silver medalists. While some teams might bemoan being so close to the gold, Tony had no patience for them. Winning the silver when bronze had seemed like a distant possibility was better than gold. It was vindication. Validation. Redemption.
This time, Team USA hadn’t fallen short of expectations. This time, they’d exceeded them. And God damn that felt good.
Danny was almost dancing on the ceiling, he was so excited. And Rahul had actually smiled without a textbook in his hand. Sol, though… Sol’s dazed wonder was almost more than Tony could handle. He wanted to kiss that amazement, touch that joy. The end of the Games had never seemed farther away.
“Dude!” Danny flung his arm across Tony’s shoulder. “That high bar routine. You put us on the podium!”
But Tony wasn’t having any of that. “No way. We did it. Every one of us, with every exercise. If you hadn’t destroyed the p-bars, if Solly hadn’t nailed the horse to the wall, if Rahul hadn’t stuck that vault landing cold. It’s a team medal, and the team won it. End of story.”
Danny grinned, apparently unfazed by Tony’s reprimand. “Not quite the end. There’s the medal ceremony. So put on your official duds, dude. Because we’re about to go collect some bling!”
Damn straight we are.
Marching out into the arena was surreal. The Chinese team, although they had to be disappointed, was so gracious when they congratulated the Americans. The Japanese team, as gold medalists in their home country, of course got a huge ovation. But standing on the second tier with his teammates—with Sol—as the officials presented