on Mike’s shoulder, “I’ll catch you later, man.”
Mike gave him the obligatory head nod.
The commentator spoke up and the room quieted a bit, and then erupted. The fight was about to start. The two guys standing in front of him moved past him towards their seats, and Ben saw a stairwell about fifteen feet ahead of him.
A guy and a girl walked down the stairs and towards the bar. There must be roof access, he thought.
He passed three more people hurrying down the stairs as the fight bell rang. The roof was mostly empty when he reached the top of the staircase. To his right a few guys were facing the parking lot towards the back, smoking what smelled like weed. And with the intelligence level of the people in this bar, it was probably laced with something that was going to send them to the hospital shortly. About fifty feet in front of him a girl in a red shirt, jeans, and sandals was standing on the far end, looking over the railing towards the street. A guy to his left flicked a cigarette over the edge and headed towards the doorway Ben was still standing in.
Ben walked to his left and looked over the railing towards the sidewalk below. He could still see several lines of smoke puffing from the cigarette, until a passerby unknowingly stepped on it. From the roof the noises from the club were muffled, and other than the voices below on the street, it was a quiet night.
The Pepsi Invitational was tomorrow. The Tom Jones Memorial two weeks after that, and then the LSU Invitational. After that it was the SEC Championships. They were all pieces to the puzzle that once finished, were supposed to lead to the NCAA Championships. Yet as he looked out towards the streets of downtown Gainesville littered with students just trying to make tonight the best night possible, all he could think about was a girl named Casey Taylor.
12
Casablanca
April 3, 2015
When Casey Taylor saw Ben walk up the stairs to the roof, she immediately turned around to face the street. You’ve got to be kidding me.
Yet she smiled, the lines from Casablanca ringing in her head: Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, you had to walk into mine…. She was a sucker for old movies. Probably because several years ago she found out when you’re pregnant, hungry, and wide awake at two in the morning, there isn’t much else to do.
Moving as little as possible, she held up her phone and reversed the camera like she was taking a selfie. It was dark, and at first she couldn’t see anything. She angled it up towards the light to refocus and then to the right where a group of guys were still passing around a joint and laughing. She angled it the other way, but again nothing. She panned back to the stairwell that was almost directly behind her and nearly dropped the phone. He was walking directly towards her.
Casey clicked the lock screen button and dropped her phone back into her purse. She was suddenly glad she wore jeans. She felt almost exposed as he approached her. At the last minute she turned around, not sure what else to do. She thought maybe she should apologize about lying earlier. Although, it really was true, she didn’t have a lot of time for anything outside the hospital.
As she turned around there was only one problem. The guy walking towards her, who was now about five feet from her, wasn’t Ben. She didn’t recognize the guy. Just some random guy from the bar.
From the corner of her eye, Casey saw something move. She looked to her right and Ben turned around, leaning his back against the fence. When their eyes met, he grinned. It was an annoying grin. It was a when-you’re-done-with-that-loser-you-can-come-talk-to-me-but-for-now-I’ll-just-watch grin.
If he wants to play that way, then maybe I will talk to this loser.
“I think it’s time I tell you what people are saying behind your back,” the guy said.
“What?” Casey said, confused.
“Nice ass.”
“What did you just say?”
“You know,
Mike gave him the obligatory head nod.
The commentator spoke up and the room quieted a bit, and then erupted. The fight was about to start. The two guys standing in front of him moved past him towards their seats, and Ben saw a stairwell about fifteen feet ahead of him.
A guy and a girl walked down the stairs and towards the bar. There must be roof access, he thought.
He passed three more people hurrying down the stairs as the fight bell rang. The roof was mostly empty when he reached the top of the staircase. To his right a few guys were facing the parking lot towards the back, smoking what smelled like weed. And with the intelligence level of the people in this bar, it was probably laced with something that was going to send them to the hospital shortly. About fifty feet in front of him a girl in a red shirt, jeans, and sandals was standing on the far end, looking over the railing towards the street. A guy to his left flicked a cigarette over the edge and headed towards the doorway Ben was still standing in.
Ben walked to his left and looked over the railing towards the sidewalk below. He could still see several lines of smoke puffing from the cigarette, until a passerby unknowingly stepped on it. From the roof the noises from the club were muffled, and other than the voices below on the street, it was a quiet night.
The Pepsi Invitational was tomorrow. The Tom Jones Memorial two weeks after that, and then the LSU Invitational. After that it was the SEC Championships. They were all pieces to the puzzle that once finished, were supposed to lead to the NCAA Championships. Yet as he looked out towards the streets of downtown Gainesville littered with students just trying to make tonight the best night possible, all he could think about was a girl named Casey Taylor.
12
Casablanca
April 3, 2015
When Casey Taylor saw Ben walk up the stairs to the roof, she immediately turned around to face the street. You’ve got to be kidding me.
Yet she smiled, the lines from Casablanca ringing in her head: Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, you had to walk into mine…. She was a sucker for old movies. Probably because several years ago she found out when you’re pregnant, hungry, and wide awake at two in the morning, there isn’t much else to do.
Moving as little as possible, she held up her phone and reversed the camera like she was taking a selfie. It was dark, and at first she couldn’t see anything. She angled it up towards the light to refocus and then to the right where a group of guys were still passing around a joint and laughing. She angled it the other way, but again nothing. She panned back to the stairwell that was almost directly behind her and nearly dropped the phone. He was walking directly towards her.
Casey clicked the lock screen button and dropped her phone back into her purse. She was suddenly glad she wore jeans. She felt almost exposed as he approached her. At the last minute she turned around, not sure what else to do. She thought maybe she should apologize about lying earlier. Although, it really was true, she didn’t have a lot of time for anything outside the hospital.
As she turned around there was only one problem. The guy walking towards her, who was now about five feet from her, wasn’t Ben. She didn’t recognize the guy. Just some random guy from the bar.
From the corner of her eye, Casey saw something move. She looked to her right and Ben turned around, leaning his back against the fence. When their eyes met, he grinned. It was an annoying grin. It was a when-you’re-done-with-that-loser-you-can-come-talk-to-me-but-for-now-I’ll-just-watch grin.
If he wants to play that way, then maybe I will talk to this loser.
“I think it’s time I tell you what people are saying behind your back,” the guy said.
“What?” Casey said, confused.
“Nice ass.”
“What did you just say?”
“You know,
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