America led me down the hall to Travis’s bedroom and frowned. “You have to change, Abby. You can’t wear that to the fight.”
“I wore a freaking cardigan last time and you didn’t say anything!” I protested.
“I didn’t think you’d go last time. Here,” she threw clothes at me, “put this on.”
“I am not wearing this!”
“Let’s go!” Shepley called from the living room.
“Hurry up!” America snapped, running into Shepley’s room.
I pulled on the deep-cut yellow halter top and tight low-rise jeans America had thrown at me, and then slipped on a pair of heels, raking a brush through my hair as I shuffled down the hall. America came out of her room with a short green baby-doll dress and matching heels, and when we rounded the corner, Travis and Shepley were standing at the door.
Travis’s mouth fell open. “Oh, hell no. Are you trying to get me killed? You’ve gotta change, Pidge.”
“What?” I asked, looking down.
America grabbed her hips. “She looks cute, Trav, leave her alone!”
Travis took my hand and led me down the hall. “Get a T-shirt on … and some sneakers. Something comfortable.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I’ll be more worried about who’s looking at your tits in that shirt instead of Hoffman,” he said, stopping at his door.
“I thought you said you didn’t give a damn what anyone else thought?”
“That’s a different scenario, Pigeon.” Travis looked down at my chest and then up at me. “You can’t wear this to the fight, so please … just … please just change,” he stuttered, shoving me into the room and shutting me in.
“Travis!” I yelled. I kicked off my heels, and shoved my feet into my Converses. Then I wiggled out of my halter top, throwing it across the room. The first cotton shirt that touched my hands I yanked over my head, and then ran down the hall, standing in the doorway.
“Better?” I huffed, pulling my hair into a ponytail.
“Yes!” Travis said, relieved. “Let’s go!”
We raced to the parking lot. I jumped on the back of Travis’s motorcycle as he ripped the engine and peeled out, flying down the road to the college. I squeezed his middle in anticipation; the rushing to get out the door sent adrenaline surging through my veins.
Travis drove over the curb, parking his motorcycle in the shadows behind the Jefferson Liberal Arts building. He pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head and then grabbed my hand, smiling as we snuck to the back of the building. He stopped at an open window near the ground.
My eyes widened with realization. “You’re joking.”
Travis smiled. “This is the VIP entrance. You should see how everyone else gets in.”
I shook my head as he worked his legs through, and then disappeared. I leaned down and called into oblivion, “Travis!”
“Down here, Pidge. Just come in feet first, I’ll catch you.”
“You’re out of your damn mind if you think I’m jumping into the dark!”
“I’ll catch you! I promise! Now get your ass in here!”
I sighed, touching my forehead with my hand. “This is insane!”
I sat down, and then scooted forward until half of my body was dangling in the dark. I turned onto my stomach and pointed my toes, feeling for the floor. I waited for my feet to touch Travis’s hand, but I lost my grip, squealing when I fell backward. A pair of hands grabbed me, and I heard Travis’s voice in the darkness.
“You fall like a girl,” he chuckled.
He lowered my feet to the ground and then pulled me deeper into the blackness. After a dozen steps, I could hear the familiar yelling of numbers and names, and then the room was illuminated. A lantern sat in the corner, lighting the room just enough that I could make out Travis’s face.