Bring Down the Stars

“How’s the knee?” he asked.

“Hurts like a sonofabitch, but I’ll live. How’s your hangover?”

“Hurts like a sonofabitch, but I’ll live.”

My glance slid to him then away. “How late did you get in?”

“Around three. I didn’t think I was so wasted, but apparently I had a whole conversation with Autumn on text that I don’t even remember.”

“Oh yeah?” I said, securing my Academy Award nomination for Casual as Fuck. “How’s she doing?”

“Good. Really grateful that she made it to be with her dad.”

“Thanks to you.”

“So what happened out there today?” he asked, shooting me a glance. “Did you not get enough sleep?”

No, as a matter of fact. I was up until three in the morning texting your girlfriend for you.

“I don’t know what happened. Bad day. Couldn’t be worse timing either.”

“Why not?”

“NCAA people were here.”

“Shut up.”

“One of them was a liaison to the regional Olympic Committee.”

“Oh fuck,” Connor said. “Man, that sucks.”

I shrugged. “I guess.”

“You guess? The Olympics.”

“I don’t know about the Olympics,” I said. “The Olympics won’t pay for next year’s tuition. If the NCAA people were feeling generous today, I blew it.”

Connor looked about to say more, but we’d arrived at his Hellcat and Paul’s silver sedan.

“There’s four of us,” Ma said. “Let’s all ride together. Weston, go up front with Paul. Connor, you come sit by this old lady.”

Paul and I exchanged glances over the hood of his car as we climbed in. He offered a smile I didn’t take or return.

Hannigan’s was hopping and we crowded into a small booth.

“Connor, that Ruby seems like a nice young girl,” Ma said, after the waitress took our order. “You say she’s your girlfriend’s roommate?”

“I did,” Connor said. “Ruby’s all kinds of fun.”

“She’s a hoot,” Ma said. “But where is your girlfriend again? Nebraska?”

“Family emergency,” Connor said. “Her dad had a heart attack.”

“Oh no, that’s awful,” Paul said quietly. “Any word on his prognosis?”

“Not yet,” Connor said. “But I’m supposed to hear from her again tonight.”

“Well, give her our best,” Ma said. “Too bad, I’d like to meet her. And too bad about your race,” she said to me. “I’ve been telling Paul about how fast you are. It was his idea to come watch the meet, since you won’t take the hour drive to come visit your mother.”