“What’s on your mind, baby?” I asked. He didn’t look up. “Travis?”
His lashes fluttered when my voice registered and the troubled expression was replaced with a contrived smile. “Hey, Pigeon.”
“Everything okay?”
“It is now,” he said, pulling me against him.
“Okay. What’s up?” I said. With a raised eyebrow and a frown, I made a show of my skepticism.
“Just have a lot on my mind,” he sighed. When I waited expectantly, he continued. “This week, the fight, you being there …”
“I told you I would stay home.”
“I need you there, Pidge,” he said, flicking his cigarette to the ground. He watched it disappear into a deep footprint in the snow and then cupped his hand around mine, pulling me toward the parking lot.
“Have you talked to Trent?” I asked.
He shook his head. “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!”
Travis smiled and picked up the pace, opening the door for me to slide in. Shepley and America repeated the same conversation they’d had since she learned she would be meeting his parents while I watched Travis stare out of the window. Just as we pulled into the parking lot of the apartment, Travis’s phone rang.
“What the fuck, Trent?” he answered. “I called you four hours ago. It’s not like you’re productive at work or anything. 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? Can you do it or not, douchebag? Because I need you to keep an eye on Pigeon. Some asshole put his hands on her last time and … yeah.” His voice lowered to a frightening tone. “I took care of it. So if I call …? Thanks, Trent.”
Travis clicked his phone shut and leaned his head against the back of the seat.
“Relieved?” Shepley asked, watching Travis in the rearview mirror.
“Yeah. I wasn’t sure how I was going to do it without him there.”
“I told you,” I began.
“Pidge, how many times do I have to say it?” he frowned.
I shook my head at his impatient tone. “I don’t understand it, though. You didn’t need me there before.”
His fingers lightly grazed my cheek. “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.”
“And crazy is exactly the way I like it,” I said, leaning up to kiss his lips.
“Obviously,” America muttered under breath.
In the shadows of Keaton Hall, Travis held me tight against his side. The steam from my breath entangled with his in the cold night air, and I could hear the low conversations of those filtering in a side door a few feet away, oblivious to our presence.
Keaton was the oldest building at Eastern, and although the Circle had been held there before, I was uneasy about the venue. Adam expected a full house, and Keaton wasn’t the most spacious of basements on campus. Beams formed a grid along the aging brick walls, just one sign of the renovations taking place inside.
“This is one of the worst ideas Adam has had yet,” Travis grumbled.
“It’s too late to change it, now,” I said, looking up at the scaffolds.
Travis’s cell phone lit up and he popped it open. His face was tinged with blue against the display, and I could finally see the two worry lines between his eyebrows I already knew were there. He clicked buttons and then snapped the phone shut, gripping me tighter.
“You seem nervous tonight,” I whispered.
“I’ll feel better when Trent gets his punk ass here.”
“I’m here, you whiny little girl,” Trent said in a hushed voice. I could barely see his outline in the darkness, but his smile gleamed in the moonlight.