Walking Disaster

“No f**king around this time. I mean it.”

“I know. I heard you.”

Adam sighed. “If you really won’t consider leaving her at home, maybe you could call Trent. That would probably set your mind at ease, and then you could concentrate.”

“Hmmm . . . that’s not a bad idea, actually,” I said.

“Think about it. Let me know,” Adam said, hanging up the phone.

Abby stared at me expectantly.

“It’s enough to pay rent for the next eight months. Adam got John Savage. He’s trying to go pro.”

“I haven’t seen him fight, have you?” Shepley asked, leaning forward.

“Just once in Springfield. He’s good.”

“Not good enough,” Abby said. I leaned in and kissed her forehead. “I can stay home, Trav.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head.

“I don’t want you to get hit like you did last time because you’re worried about me.”

“No, Pidge.”

“I’ll wait up for you.” She smiled, but it was obviously forced, making me even more determined.

“I’m going to ask Trent to come. He’s the only one I’d trust so I can concentrate on the fight.”

“Thanks a lot, ass**le,” Shepley grumbled.

“Hey, you had your chance,” I said, only half teasing.

Shepley’s mouth pulled to the side. He could pout all day long, but he dropped the ball at Hellerton, letting Abby get away from him like that. If he’d been paying attention, it would have never happened, and we all knew it.

America and Abby swore that it was a fluke accident, but I didn’t hesitate to tell him otherwise. He was watching the fight instead of Abby, and if Ethan had finished what he started, I would be in jail for murder. Shepley apologized to Abby for weeks, but then I took him aside and told him to knock it off. None of us liked reliving it every time his guilt got the best of him.

“Shepley, it wasn’t your fault. You pulled him off of me, remember?” Abby said, reaching around America to pat his arm. She turned to me. “When is the fight?”

“Next week sometime. I want you there. I need you there.” If I’d been any less of an ass**le, I would have insisted she stay home, but it had already been established on numerous occasions that I wasn’t. My need to be around Abby Abernathy overruled any rational thought. It had always been that way, and I imagined it always would.

Abby smiled, resting her chin on my shoulder. “Then I’ll be there.”

I dropped Abby off at her final class, kissing her goodbye before meeting Shepley and America at Morgan. The campus was quickly emptying, and I finally resorted to smoking my cigarettes around the corner so I wouldn’t have to dodge a coed carrying luggage or laundry every three minutes.

I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and dialed Trenton’s number, listening to each ring with increasing impatience. Finally, his voice mail picked up. “Trent, it’s me. I need a huge favor. It’s time sensitive, so call me back ASAP. Later.”

I hung up, seeing Shepley and America pushing through the glass doors of the dorm, each holding two of her bags.

“Looks like you’re all set.”

Shepley smiled; America didn’t.

“They’re really not that bad,” I said, nudging her with my elbow. Her scowl didn’t disappear.

“She’ll feel better once we get there,” Shepley said, more to encourage his girlfriend than to convince me.

I helped them pack the trunk of the Charger, and then we waited for Abby to finish her midterm and find us in the parking lot.

I pulled my beanie over my ears and lit a cigarette, waiting. Trenton still hadn’t called back, and I was getting nervous that he wouldn’t be able to come. The twins were halfway to Colorado with some of their fellow Sig Tau alums, and I didn’t trust anyone else to keep Abby safe.

I took several drags, working out the different scenarios in my head if Trenton didn’t call back, and how f**king selfish I was being, requiring her presence in a place where I knew she could be in danger. Complete concentration was needed to win this fight, and that depended on two things: Abby’s presence, and Abby’s safety. If Trenton had to work or didn’t call me back, I’d have to call off the fight. That was the only option.

I took a final drag off the last cigarette in the pack. I’d been so wrapped up in worry, I hadn’t realized how much I’d been smoking. I looked down at my watch. Abby should have gotten out of class by now.

Just then, she called my name.

“Hey, Pigeon.”

“Everything okay?”

“It is now,” I said, pulling her against me.

“Okay. What’s up?”

“Just have a lot on my mind.” I sighed. When she made it known that my answer wasn’t good enough, I continued, “This week, the fight, you being there . . .”

“I told you I would stay home.”

“I need you there, Pidge,” I said, flicking my cigarette to the ground. I watched it disappear into a deep footprint in the snow, and then took Abby’s hand.

“Have you talked to Trent?” she asked.

“I’m waiting for him to call me back.”

America rolled down the window and poked her head out of Shepley’s Charger. “Hurry up! It’s freaking freezing!”

I smiled and opened the door for Abby. While I stared out the window Shepley and America repeated the same conversation they’d had since she learned she would be meeting his parents. Just as we pulled into the parking lot of the apartment, my phone rang.

“What the f**k, Trent?” I asked, seeing his name on the display. “I called you hours ago. It’s not like you’re productive at work or anything.”

“It hasn’t been hours, and I’m sorry. I’ve been at Cami’s.”

“Whatever. Listen, I need a favor. I’ve got a fight next week. I need you to go. I don’t know when it is, but when I call you, I need you there within an hour. Can you do that for me?”

“I don’t know. What’s in it for me?” he teased.

“Can you do it or not, douche bag? Because I need you to keep an eye on Pigeon. Some ass**le put his hands on her last time and—”

“What the f**k, Chuck? Are you serious?”

“Yeah.”

“Who did it?” Trenton asked, his tone immediately grave.

“I took care of it. So if I call . . . ?”

“Yeah. I mean, of course, little brother, I’ll be there.”

“Thanks, Trent.” I clicked my phone shut and leaned my head against the back of the seat.

“Relieved?” Shepley asked, watching my anxiety unwind inside the rearview mirror.

“Yeah. I wasn’t sure how I was going to do it without him there.”

“I told you—” Abby began, but I stopped her.

“Pidge, how many times do I have to say it?”

She shook her head at my impatient tone. “I don’t understand it, though. You didn’t need me there before.”

I turned to her, my finger touching her cheek. She clearly had no idea how deep my feelings ran. “I didn’t know you before. When you’re not there, I can’t concentrate. I’m wondering where you are, what you’re doing . . . if you’re there and I can see you, I can focus. I know it’s crazy, but that’s how it is.”