Page 16 of Line Change

We don’t recover the point. The final question is worth two, and Tessa gets it right, but so do the teams ahead of us. The host announces us in third place behind a table of drag queens called Quiz in My Pants and four women who have been silently destroying everyone since round one.

Our prize is a round of shots and a gift card worth less than our bar tab.

“We could’ve won,” Tessa says as the bartender sets down three glasses.

“We came third out of twenty-four teams.”

“First and second get their picture on the wall.”

Micah lifts his shot. “There’s already a picture of Nolan on the wall.”

“That isn’t the point.”

We drink. The tequila burns all the way down. When I set the glass back on the table, Pope’s face is still frozen on Micah’s screen.

“Delete that.” I point at it.

“From Instagram?”

“From the planet.”

Micah pockets it. “You could kiss him instead.”

Tessa raises one finger. “Tomorrow. No more Pope tonight.”

“Thank you.”

“I was talking to Micah. You’ve lost speaking privileges over Jupiter.”

Trivia teams start breaking apart. Some people move toward the bar, and somebody feeds enough money into the jukebox to replace the host’s playlist. I finish my beer slowly because practice starts early tomorrow and Gunderson has no sympathy for queer trivia.

Tessa and Micah are arguing over whether third place requires celebration when a man stops beside my chair.

He’s attractive. Close to my age, maybe a little younger, with a neat beard and a green shirt stretched across a good chest. I’ve seen him here before. We have never spoken.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks.

I look at the empty bottle in front of me, then back at him.

This should be easy. He’s hot, interested, and I won’t have to sit beside him at practice tomorrow. The best way to get over one person is to get under another. It isn’t great life advice, but it has worked for plenty of people.

Behind him, Tessa and Micah have gone quiet. They aren’t going to tease me. If I leave with this guy, they’ll probably high-five as soon as my back is turned.

I should say yes.

Then I think about tomorrow’s practice. I think about arriving tired, skating beside Pope, and knowing I took a stranger home because I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

“Thanks,” I say. “I’ve got an early morning.”

The guy takes it well. “Another night?”

“Maybe.”

He smiles and heads back toward the bar.

Micah waits until he’s out of hearing range. “He was hot.”

“I noticed.”