Thankfully, the gods are in good spirits today. We arrive at the top floor, to find the windows of the party room encased in thick gray clouds.
The room is empty except for some folded chairs and a Ping-Pong table. “Fantastic,” Evan says. “I haven’t played in years.” He finds a couple of paddles and balls under the table and motions to Virgo and me. “Two against one?”
I take a paddle. “I have to warn you. I’ve spent many hours up here. I’m a bit of a pro.”
“A pro, huh?” Evan picks up a ball and dribbles it on the table. “That sounds like a challenge. I’m in.”
Virgo takes his paddle and stands next to me. “I’m on her team.”
I text Sammie to let her know where we are, and then I take my position.
As it turns out, I am better than both Evan and Virgo, but generally speaking, we all kind of suck.
Evan is about to serve the ball to us when he stops. “Time out. Have you ever played Extreme Ping-Pong?”
“No.” Virgo and I both laugh.
“I am not familiar with Extreme Ping-Pong,” I say.
“Well, it’s a game where only the chosen few, only the truly daring, triumph,” Evan says. “The goal is to keep the ball off the floor, by any means possible. Other than that, there are no rules. Only survival. Do you think you two are brave enough to survive?”
What begins as a serious game with points and careful serves and rules about volleying and double bounces quickly devolves into a ridiculous game of full-room tennis. We’re leaping and diving and running around the room, hitting the ball so that it flies off the walls, off the ceilings, off our paddles two, three, four times, anything to keep the ball from the ground. And we’re on a streak. It has to be a good five solid minutes of the ball moving through the air before a flash of lightning fills up the room and thunder reverberates so loudly that Evan, who’s in control of the ball, drops it and shudders from the bang.
“Dude,” Virgo yells. “You killed our streak!”
“Holy crap!” Evan fumbles for the ball. “You weren’t kidding. That is terrifying!”
“I told you!” I laugh.
Virgo slams his paddle on the table and high-fives me. “And that means Viviana and I are the triumphant World Champions of Extreme Ping-Pong!”
“The tournament isn’t over yet,” Evan says. “It’s only just begun.”
Virgo checks his phone. “Sorry, man. I’ve got to get out of here. Meeting my girl for dinner.”
I check my phone. Sammie hasn’t texted back yet. I text her again: You on your way? Not sure how much longer we’ll all be here. Virgo’s leaving. Come quick. I’m saving lover boy 4 u.
Virgo leaves, and it’s just Evan and me and the thunder and lightning. There are patches of blue now in the sky, but the rain’s still pounding down pretty hard. “Want to just watch the storm?” he asks.
“Sure,” I say. We put the paddles back and sit on the floor at the edge of the window. This very large party room suddenly feels very small now that Virgo’s gone.
Outside the window, the sky is thick with clouds. On clear days, we can see all of the city from up here—Lake Michigan, the Hancock Building and all of Michigan Avenue to the east, Willis Tower and all of downtown to the south. Now, the entire city’s disappeared behind the storm, and it’s just us: Evan and me, and no one else. I suddenly feel like I’m sitting too close to him. I slide a few inches away, and I make it look like it’s so I can rest my back against the wall.
“You okay?”
“What?” I say. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“That was a fun game.”
“It was.” I look at my phone. No text from Sammie. “I don’t know why she isn’t writing back.”
“Who?”
“Sammie,” I say.
“Right.” There’s more lightning. Evan presses his head against the window and counts under his breath, and then the thunder rumbles, enough to shake the whole building again. “Ten miles away. Looks like it’s moving this way.”
I check my phone again: 6:35. Nothing. “I should probably get going soon.”
Evan lifts his head and looks at me. “I’m sorry Professor Cox upset you. He can be brutal sometimes.”
“Brutal,” I say with a laugh. “Okay, if that’s what you want to call it.”
“He’s a good man, really. And he speaks some very real truths that, as much as they’re difficult to hear, can be incredibly enlightening.”
“I just—you know what? Never mind.”
“What?”
“Well—I don’t understand, why you like him so much, I mean. He doesn’t seem that smart to me—brutal, sure—but I don’t see that there’s much to like about him.”
Evan turns around, presses his back against the window, and thinks for a minute. “I think he’s had a really hard life. He’s told me a few things and—” I’m about to ask him what things, when Evan looks at me. “Professor Cox was the only one who knows that I’ve changed my major to music. Well, now him—and you.”