“Good idea,” I nodded.
He led me by the hand down the buffet line, piling different steaming dishes on one tray. The cashier had given up her predictable baffled expression weeks before, used to our routine.
“Abby.” Brazil nodded to me and then winked at Travis. “You guys have plans next week?”
“We’re staying here. My brothers are coming in,” Travis said, distracted as he organized our lunches, dividing the small Styrofoam plates in front of us on the table.
“I’m going to kill David Lapinski!” America announced, shaking snow out of her hair as she approached.
“Direct hit!” Shepley laughed. America shot him a warning glare and his laugh turned into a nervous chuckle. “I mean…what an asshole.”
We laughed at his regretful expression as he watched her stomp to the buffet line, following quickly after.
“He’s so whipped,” Brazil said with a disgusted look on his face.
“America’s a little uptight,” Travis explained. “She’s meeting his parents this week.”
Brazil nodded, his eyebrows shooting up. “So they’re….”
“There,” I said, nodding with him. “It’s permanent.”
“Whoa,” Brazil said. The shock didn’t leave his face as he picked at his food, and I could see the confusion swirl around him. We were all young, and Brazil couldn’t wrap his head around Shepley’s commitment.
“When you have it, Brazil…you’ll get it,” Travis said, smiling at me.
The room was abuzz with excitement, from both the spectacle outside and the quickly approaching last hours before break. As the seats filled, the steady stream of chatter grew to a loud echo, the volume rising as everyone began talking over the noise.
By the time Shepley and America returned with their trays, they had made up. She happily sat in the empty seat next to me, prattling on about her impending meet-the-parents moment. They would leave that evening for his parents’, the perfect excuse for one of America’s infamous meltdowns.
I watched her pick at her bread as she fretted about what to pack and how much luggage she could take without appearing pretentious, but she seemed to be holding it together.
“I told you, Baby. They’re gonna love you. Love you like I love you, love you,” Shepley said, tucking her hair behind her ear. America took a breath and the corners of her mouth turned up in the way they always did when he made her feel more at ease.
Travis’ phone shivered, causing it to glide a few inches across the table. He ignored it, regaling Brazil with our first game of poker with his brothers. I glanced at the display, tapping Travis on the shoulder when I read the name.
“Baby?”
Without apology, he turned away from Brazil and gave me his undivided attention. “Yeah, Pigeon?”
“You might want to get that.”
He looked down at his cell phone and sighed, “Or not.”
“It could be important.”
He pursed his lips before holding the receiver to his ear. “What’s up, Adam?” His eyes searched the room as he listened, nodding occasionally. “This is my last fight, Adam. I’m not sure, yet. I won’t go without her and Shep’s leaving town. I know…I heard you. Hmmm…that’s not a bad idea, actually.”
My eyebrows pulled in, seeing his eyes brighten with whatever idea Adam had enlightened him with. When Travis hung up the phone, I stared at him expectantly.
“It’s enough to pay rent for the next eight months. Adam got John Savage. He’s trying to go pro.”
“I haven’t seen him fight, have you?” Shepley asked, leaning forward.
Travis nodded. “Just once in Springfield. He’s good.”
“Not good enough,” I said. Travis leaned in and kissed my forehead with soft appreciation. “I can stay home, Trav.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head.
“I don’t want you to get hit like you did last time because you’re worried about me.”
“No, Pidge.”