Walking Disaster

“When is the fight?”
    “Next week sometime. I want you there. I need you there.” If I’d been any less of an asshole, 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 fucking 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 fuck, 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 asshole put his hands on her last time and—”
    “What the fuck, 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