“So, who’s your partner? Or are you just not as dedicated as your friends?”
“Not hardly. But my excuse is that I work out of town a couple weeks each month. So I stop by when I can, cheer my friends on, and eat my weight in chicken wings.”
“Sounds like a good way to live.” I smile and think I like this crew.
The crowd quiets as Trick explains the set-up for tonight. The teams separate into stations, and Tina makes a last call for food orders.
“Is this what it feels like at the Olympics? You can’t get more food until the first round is over?” I joke.
He laughs. “And watch. They’ll flash the question up on the screen, but there’s a thirty-five second delay, so we don’t get to see it until they’ve already answered.”
We shake our heads at the intensity, and Gavin drains his beer. “I’m gonna head over for a refill while I can. You thirsty?” He eyes my drink.
“It’s—”
“I’ve got it. I bartended my way through college. One Dirty Shirley coming up.”
I’m alone at the table for mere moments before Dunc returns, and for a second, I wonder if these guys are checking me out to make sure I’m good enough for their friend. I wouldn’t put it past them; in fact, I think it’s sweet that they care. But then I see the frown on Duncan’s face. I’ve known the guy for all of twenty minutes, but it’s obvious he’s not his usual jovial self as he gathers his jacket and glances down at his phone.
“Hey, Elaine, it was nice to meet you. I hate to run, but…”
“Is everything ok?” Not that I expect him to tell me. I’m a virtual stranger. But this man looks defeated, and minutes ago, he was joking and laughing with his best friends. Whatever happened, it’s significant.
But at my question, a mask falls into place, and his smile returns, even if it’s forced. “Nah. It’s all good. Bets...she had a rough day, so I’m just gonna head on home to my girl. See if I can’t cheer her up. I texted the guys, but they have to surrender their phones, so…”
“No problem. I’ll let Simon know. And I hope Betsy’s day gets better.”
“Yeah. Me, too…” The mask slips for a moment, before falling back into place. “Take care, Elaine. I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of you.”
I blush at his comment, hoping he’s right. He walks out of Trick’s just as Gavin returns, drinks in hand. “Did I just see Dunc heading out?”
“Yeah, he said Betsy had a bad day, so he’s going home to cheer her up.”
“Sounds about right. She’s a child psychologist, so she’s bound to have some rough days. And Dunc would do anything for her. Those two are the real deal.”
“Simon said they’ve been together since college?”
“Yea. It was freshman move-in day, and Simon’s whole family came to see him off. Hell, he was only, what, 15 at the time? Anyway, all his sisters were there, and Dunc took one look at Bets and fell hard and that was it. And that’s been, what? Nine years, I guess. And they got married right after we graduated, so, yeah, they’re our resident lovebirds.”
“Wow. You guys have been friends for a long time.” And it really is remarkable that they’ve all stayed so close. I can’t tell you when I last talked to my college roommates. But the longevity of their friendship is not the part of our conversation that my brain has zeroed in on.
“He was fifteen when he started college. That’s what’s bothering you, isn’t it?”
I start to deny it, because, when he says it out loud, it sounds absurd. And in my head, it seems so logical. But I’m a terrible liar, so I nod. “Fifteen is really young.”
“Yea, it is. But he’s not fifteen now. You get that, right?”
“Of course—” I nervously fiddle with the straw in my drink.
“Just checking.” He smiles as though he’s seen through my lie. “Cause you looked ready to bolt when I mentioned that little detail.” His blue eyes and warm smile are kind, but I still feel like I’m sitting under a microscope.
“You have to admit there’s an obvious age difference between Simon and me.” I stammer, defending my insecurities.
Gavin shrugs. “If you say so. My mother would kick my ass for asking a lady’s age, so I’m sure as hell not asking yours. If I had to guess, I’d figure you’re my age, and I know I’ve got three years on Simon. But here’s the thing. That guy’s an old soul. Always has been. I remember meeting him that first day and thinking it was a little fucked up that we were stuck with a kid who looked like he hadn’t hit puberty yet.”
“Is the story supposed to help? Because it’s not.”
He chuckles. “Yea, I’m getting there. So, my dad and I got to the dorm first, gave each other a manly hug, and then he split, and I unpacked my duffle. I was gonna head out and explore the campus, but just as I was about to, in walks this preppy douche. I shit you not, he was wearing two polo shirts with the collars popped, the tips of his hair were frosted, and he had on enough cologne to choke a goat.”
