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“This is awesome,” said Enrique. “You been to this place?”
I shook my head no and sipped my champagne. It tasted too sweet, like liquid candy.
“My ex wanted to come here, but, man, I don’t dance.”
“So why didn’t you learn?”
“She wasn’t the one.”
My chest tightened at that. I drank more champagne. I didn’t know if I believed in the one, but I sure as hell believed in missed chances. I should’ve known with Izzy. She was so great. I should’ve known I’d fall for her and done it all different. Told her ‘let’s date’ and not ‘be my good luck charm.’ She might still not have wanted me, but we’d still be best friends.
“Hey, is that Nash? Is that Spencer Nash?”
“And Enrique Alvarez! Man, you guys suck!”
I slouched down in my seat, rolling my eyes. Enrique surged up.
“Who said that?”
“I did,” came a voice from across the loft. Enrique lurched toward it.
“Ignore them,” I groaned.
“You had a shot and you blew it. What was that goal?” A big man stood up and lumbered toward us. “He was practically in the neutral zone, and where were you guys? Where was your defense? You suck. You suck.”
“Cool it,” said Dan, but no one seemed to hear him. Hoots and jeers rose from the tables around us. Enrique was yelling, and Rodriguez, and Keller. Half the VIP loft was up on their feet.
I stood up. “I’m out of here.”
“You need to retire.” The big man jabbed his finger right in my face. I brushed it aside, but Enrique steamed in. He took a swing, and the rumble was on. I backed away disgusted, hating this night. Was this what it had come to, this petty bullshit? Here I was in my thirties, and this was my life? What did I have going on besides work?
Dan barreled past me, brandishing a chair. Two big-bodied bouncers stormed up the stairs. They waded into the fray, corralling brawlers. I pressed my back to the wall to stay out of the way. I didn’t want to be part of this, didn’t want to be here. These weren’t my friends. This was a work party and these were my co-workers, and if this was all I had, what was the point? What had I accomplished? What was my life?
If I’d come here with Leon, we’d be laughing this off. Izzy might be throwing a peanut or two. I’d grab her wrist — quit that — and drag her away. We’d end up out back helpless with laughter, kissing against the side of my truck.
Some dick charged up on me, going in for the headbutt. I grabbed him hard by the ears and flung him away. His buddy saw me do it and threw a wild punch. My fist was faster, bang up his nose. He staggered into the crowd, toppling fighters like skittles, and I took advantage of the opening to get the hell out.
The cops pulled up in front as I ducked out back, and I sat in my truck and watched to see what would happen. Mostly, I wanted to make sure everyone was okay. But part of me wanted to rub my face in my mess. This was what I had, now I’d lost Izzy. This job. These jerks. This childish nonsense. If she’d distracted me, I should’ve thanked her. But she hadn’t, not really. I’d distracted myself.
I watched as Dan and Enrique were led out in cuffs, along with the big guy who’d started it and a handful of others. They deserved it, the lot of them, but I followed them to the cop shop. I would be there if my friends needed bail.
I was still waiting hours later when Coach Nelson showed up. He spotted me waiting and fixed me with a scowl.
“Not you as well?”
I shook my head. “No, I’m just waiting in case they need bail. No one’s telling me anything, so?—”
“They’re letting everyone go once they sign some papers. They’ll get slapped with a fine, but that’s about it.” Nelson sat down beside me. “Were you there? What happened?”
I let out a sigh. “I was there, yeah. Some jerk started heckling. He was yelling stuff at us, retire, you suck. I told the guys to ignore him, but you know how it is. They were high on adrenaline, salty from losing. This jerk came in swinging and that’s all she wrote.”
“You got out,” said Nelson.
I only shrugged. I might’ve joined in, had I not been so tired. So sick of living like I’d never left college.
“I’ll deal with this,” said Nelson. “You go on home.” He got up and headed for the front desk.
I did as he said and trudged back to my truck. All I could think of was what he’d said two games back, the night I’d gone home and ruined things with Izzy. You’re so sure you’re gonna lose, so sure you’re a loser, you can’t help but picture it, and then we do lose. Was that what I’d done that night with Izzy, been so sure she’d dump me I’d dumped myself? All she had said to me was We need to talk. I’d been the one to say we were done. She’d looked almost puzzled, and I’d thought I’d just beat her. Taken the words clean out of her mouth. But what if she hadn’t been planning to leave me at all?
