America rolled down the window and poked her head out of Shepley’s Charger. “Hurry up! It’s freaking freezing!”
Travis smiled and picked up the pace, opening the door for me to slide in. Shepley and America repeated the same conversation they’d had since she learned she would be meeting his parents while I watched Travis stare out of the window. Just as we pulled into the parking lot of the apartment, Travis’ phone rang.
“What the fuck, Trent?” he answered. “I called you four hours ago, it’s not like you’re productive at work or anything. Whatever. Listen, I need a favor. I’ve got a fight next week. I need you to go. I don’t know when it is, but when I call you, I need you there within an hour. Can you do that for me? Can you do it or not, douche bag? Because I need you to keep an eye on Pigeon. Some asshole put his hands on her last time and…yeah.” His voice lowered to a frightening tone. “I took care of it. So if I call…? Thanks, Trent.”
Travis clicked his phone shut and leaned his head against the back of the seat.
“Relieved?” Shepley asked, watching Travis in the rearview mirror.
“Yeah. I wasn’t sure how I was going to do it without him there.”
“I told you,” I began.
“Pidge, how many times do I have to say it?” he frowned.
I shook my head at his impatient tone. “I don’t understand it, though. You didn’t need me there before.”
His fingers lightly grazed my cheek. “I didn’t know you before. When you’re not there, I can’t concentrate. I’m wondering where you are, what you’re doing…if you’re there and I can see you, I can focus. I know it’s crazy, but that’s how it is.”
“And crazy is exactly the way I like it,” I smiled, leaning up to kiss his lips.
“Obviously,” America muttered under breath.
In the shadows of Keaton Hall, Travis held me tight against his side. The steam from my breath entangled with his in the cold night air, and I could hear the low conversations of those filtering in a side door a few feet away, oblivious to our presence.
Keaton was the oldest building at Eastern, and although The Circle had been held there before, I was uneasy about the venue. Adam expected a full house, and Keaton wasn’t the most spacious of basements on campus. Beams formed a grid along the aging brick walls, just one sign of the renovations taking place inside.
“This is one of the worst ideas Adam has had yet,” Travis grumbled.
“It’s too late to change it, now,” I said, looking up at the scaffolds.
Travis’ cell phone lit up and he popped it open. His face was tinged with blue against the display, and I could finally see the two worry lines between his eyebrows I already knew were there. He clicked buttons and then snapped the phone shut, gripping me tighter.
“You seem nervous tonight,” I whispered.
“I’ll feel better when Trent gets his punk ass here.”
“I’m here, you whiny little girl,” Trent said in a hushed voice. I could barely see his outline in the darkness, but his smile gleamed in the moonlight.
“How ya been, sis?” he said. He hugged me with one arm, and then playfully shoved Travis with the other.
“I’m good, Trent.”
Travis immediately relaxed, and then he led me by the hand to the back of the building.
“If the cops show and we get separated, meet me at Morgan Hall, okay?” Travis said to his brother. We stopped at an open window low to the ground, the signal that Adam was inside and waiting.
“You’re fuckin’ with me,” Trent said, staring down at the window. “Abby’s barely gonna fit through there.”
“You’ll fit,” Travis assured him, crawling down into the blackness inside. Like so many times before, I leaned down and pushed myself backwards, knowing Travis would catch me.
We waited for a few moments, and then Trent grunted as he pushed off the ledge and landed on the floor, nearly losing his balance as his feet hit the concrete.