“This one’s on you, just so you know,” Jessie says from behind me. I can’t face her, even though all I want to do is hug her, have her tell me what to do. But she hates me right now, and I deserve it.
“I know,” I say, my voice barely audible. “I know.”
The pre-game announcements start, and pretty soon the team is taking the field. Trevor comes to sit by me for most of the first quarter, and I cheer along with him and Kevin, just trying to act like I’m enjoying myself, like I’m distracted by the game. But I watch Cody from the corner of my eye, I watch him every time he takes a drink—and I shrink with every single one.
Trevor kisses me on the cheek at the start of the second quarter, before he heads to the back of the suite to sit in the sofas with Kevin and Rob. He feels obligated to entertain me, but he would rather be with his friends, so I urge him to join them. I pull my jacket tightly around me, thankful for the heaters above my head.
The second half is full of action, and Cleveland is moving the ball well. They score twice in the first few minutes, and everyone in the suite high-fives and cheers, but I stay in my corner and wait for Cody to explode. He’s getting louder and bolder with every minute that passes, his language consisting mostly of swear words at this point.
Finally, almost half-time, I hear him say, “Fuck this, I’m outta here. You wanna come, Gabe?” Then I see the two of them shake Trevor’s hand and leave through the door. It’s strange how relieved I am that he’s gone, yet worried at the same time. I walk over to the living area and pick around at some of the plates of food, really just listening to the boys talk and hoping someone will give me a clue where Cody went. I’m about to ask Trevor, when I feel my neck choke on the tug from the back of my coat. I stumble backward into the row of stools, where Jessie is sitting.
“Okay, here’s the deal. I’m mad at you—like so f**king mad I want to punch you in the face,” she says, and I flinch in reaction. “Stop it. I’m not going to; I just want to.”
I take a deep breath, but keep my guard up, ready to run if I have to.
“We’ve got a problem,” she says, looking at her phone and swiping a few times before she hands it to me. It’s open on a text from Gabe, and when I read what it says, I’m hit with a whole new wave of panic.
He’s f**ked up, J. He’s making me drive him out to the pits for jumps. He’s going to do something stupid. He won’t listen to me, you know that.
I look back at her, my eyes wide. I’m not sure what the pits are and what type of jumps Gabe’s referring to, but I know how drunk Cody was when they left, so I’m pretty sure whatever this mixture is, it’s dangerous.
“This is bad, Charlie. Do you understand? He almost died when he tried some dumb-ass trick, and he’s in a really f**ked up place right now,” she says, and before I can rationalize any of it, I’m at Trevor’s side.
“We have to go,” I say in his ear.
“Huh?” he says, turning to me and bunching his brow.
I must look like a lunatic, my heart is beating fast, and I know I’m talking rapidly and bouncing my leg like I have to pee, but I just want him to hurry, to trust me on this one.
“I’m sorry, I know this sucks, and I know how much you love this game, but we have to go,” I say, forcing him to look at me and put his beer down on the table when I hold onto his shoulder. “It’s Cody; I think he’s in trouble.”
I see the panic hit Trevor now, and he pulls his keys from his pocket and hands them to me, leaving a few bills from his wallet for tips on the table. He shakes Kevin’s hand quickly and pats Rob on the back, leaning over to explain to them that there’s an emergency.
We’re out the door seconds later, Jessie tagging along behind us. “Where is he at? What’s going on?” Trevor says, his step picking up pace as we hit the ramps to the parking lot.
“He’s drunk. Just got a little carried away is all, but he’s heading out to the pits to jump his bike,” Jessie says, once again bailing me out of a situation.
“Damnit,” Trevor says, and I can see the frustrated look on his face. It’s not that Trevor doesn’t drink; quite the opposite, he can hold his liquor well. He’s just not a big fan of drunken behavior. The wildest thing he’s done at a bar is make an unwise bet on a hockey game.
We get to the car, and I click the locks. We get in, and I start racing from the lot before everyone’s seatbelts are on.
“Where do I need to go?” I ask Jessie.