“Their aim isn’t synonymous with their fear of your temper, Trav.”
He held me against his side, rubbing my coat sleeve with his hand as he guided me through the chaos. We came to an abrupt halt when a handful of girls screamed past as they were pelted by the merciless aim of the baseball team. Once they cleared the path, Travis led me safely to the door.
“See? I told you we’d make it,” he said with a smile.
His amusement faded when a tightly packed snowball exploded against the door, just between our faces. Travis’s glare scanned the lawn, but the sheer numbers of students darting in every direction doused his urge to retaliate.
He pulled open the door, watching the melting snow slide down the painted metal to the ground. “Let’s get inside.”
“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’ house. It was the perfect excuse for one of America’s infamous meltdowns.
I watched her pick at her brea
d 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’s phone shivered, causing it to glide a few inches across the table. He ignored it, regaling Brazil with the story of our first game of poker with his brothers. I glanced at the display, tapping Travis on the shoulder when I read the name.
“Trav?”
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.”