Chapter 11 - October 14, 1979

Sandy hadn't been to a lot of large-scale sports venues like the Met Center in Bloomington. The closest experience she had to compare was the time Ray had taken her to a Seahawks game in Seattle. It had poured rain on them, someone had speared Ray in the chin with an umbrella and he had nearly gotten in a fight. The Met Center was, thankfully, completely dry on the night that she and Di went to see Team USA play the Canadian National Team.

"Everybody wants to see them kick some Canadian ass here at home," Di explained as they waited in line for popcorn, which Di had insisted they get. "And they stomped them last night in Hibbing. Hopefully they can do it again tonight."

"How do you know that they won last night? I didn't even know that," Sandy said.

Di shrugged. "My dad told me. He heard from somebody he works with." She leaned in closer, lowering her voice. "You know, he was pretty curious about why exactly I was given a free ticket to this game. He wouldn't accept that they were your gift—he probably thinks I'm turning tricks for hockey tickets."

Sandy grinned. "Well, that's maybe the most Minnesotan thing you could do."

Once they finally reached the front of the line and Di had bought a comically large tub of popcorn, they made their way to their seats. They had a good view of the net where Di said Canada's goalie would be for the first and third periods. This was good because, in Di's words, "we'll be able to see most of the goals."

"What if they score all the goals in the second period? "

Di frowned. "They'll—it won't be—they just won't. We'll see all the goals. I promise. They're good seats."

Gayle Schneider waved from her spot four rows above them, where she sat with two older people who Sandy assumed were Buzz's parents. "They must have a whole section set aside for family and everything," she said to Di as they squeezed through the aisle to get to their seats.

"It would be worth it to keep seeing Bah to get tickets to all these games," Di said. "I bet it would be fifteen bucks a piece to actually buy them. Hey, do you think that's Robbie's mom?"

Di had spoken loudly enough for the woman in the seat next to Sandy to hear. She turned to look at them and smiled. "Oh, you two must be my honourary McClanahans for the evening." She held out a hand for them both to shake. "Virginia."

"Sandy, and this is Di," Sandy said, as Di struggled to wipe the butter from the popcorn off her hand. "It's nice to meet you."

"You too," Virginia said. She frowned a little at them, and then said, "now, I hope you ladies don't mind my asking, but neither of you are involved with Rob, are you?"

Di let out a quiet giggle. "No, no, no," she said.

Virginia frowned, and Sandy gave Di an incredulous look. "It's another guy on the team," she said. "Robbie's very nice, though. It was really great of him to give us these tickets."

"I think so. You know, he doesn't like to tell me about these things, and so when he told me that two girls would be coming to sit with me tonight... Well, I'm sure you can understand why I was curious. Two girls seemed like an awful lot for him." Virginia rolled her eyes and started to say something else, but someone behind them called her name, and she smiled politely at Sandy and Di and turned away again.

Di dug her hand back into the popcorn and leaned close to Sandy. "Yikes," she said in a quiet voice. "At least nobody can say she doesn't try to involve herself in her son's life."

Sandy shushed her as the players started to come out onto the ice. She clapped with the rest of the fans, trying to pick Bah out without the help of the programme she had been handed at the door. Sandy had it narrowed down to three players before Di reached over and grabbed the programme out of her hands.

"They won't sit still. I have no idea which one he is," Di said, flicking through the small book in search of the roster. She tapped her fingernail on the page when she found it. "There we go. 28. Robbie's 24, if you feel like sucking up," she added, grinning at Sandy.

"I'll keep that in mind."

Sandy and Di didn't have much of a chance to speak to Virginia McClanahan during the game. She was a highly sociable woman, turning and twisting in her seat to shake hands and talk to other family members sitting nearby. When the third period had ended, Team USA had won 6-0 and both of their mouths were dry from the tub of salty popcorn.

As the girls stood, Gayle Schneider fought her way over to them through the crowd of people climbing up the stairs. "I was hoping I'd get a chance to come and say hi. I'm Gayle," she told Di, holding out a hand for her to shake. "I don't think we've met, officially."

"Nope," Di said, pumping her hand up and down. "Di. Which one was your husband?"

"Number 25, on Bah's line," Gayle said. "They had a good night, huh?"

Sandy had tried to pay attention to how well Bah had done and so she knew, by extension, that Buzz had gotten a goal and an assist that evening. She hadn't known what constituted a good game when one played for the Olympic team, and so she tucked this knowledge away and nodded.

Gayle turned to wave goodbye to someone behind her. "What do you ladies have going on for the rest of the night?" she asked, turning back to them. "Did you make plans with Bah?"

Sandy shook her head. "Not really. Di has to go home, but he told us to stay and say hi after. And then I think we're just going home."

"Well, we should all go do something," Gayle said. "Drinks or—" she paused, grimacing. "You're old enough now, right?"

"I am," Sandy said. "Di isn't, though." She jerked her thumb at Di, who gave an apologetic shrug.

Gayle hummed thoughtfully. "Well, the boys just have practice tomorrow in the afternoon, so they'll probably want to do something fun tonight. They usually want to go out for drinks or dancing or something after their games, but we can figure something else out if you can't get in." She started walking backwards up the stairs. "C'mon, we'll go wait for them by the dressing room."

Di and Sandy lagged behind a little. "Are—are we allowed?" Di asked.

"Of course!" Gayle waved a dismissive hand at them. "If anybody asks, we can just tell them that I'm Buzz's wife and you're Bah's girlfriend—?" She faltered, raising her eyebrows at Sandy, questioning. Sandy shook her head. "Oh, shit. Well, we'll see if I can say anything with my foot in my mouth. Hopefully nobody asks."

Sandy and Di exchanged a look and followed Gayle up the stairs. "You should go with them," Di said as they went. "Don't feel bad. You'll have so much fun."

It felt a little to Sandy like she would be deserting Di to go hang out with Bah, which was not the kind of friend that Sandy wanted to be. "Are you sure? I came with you."

Di shrugged. "And you can leave with Bah. I don't mind. Besides, you don't see him that often, and you can see me any old time. I'll just stay until he comes out and say hello and then head home." She checked her watch. "Stupid curfew."

Gayle lead them down a hallway and another long flight of stairs leading to where the ice surface was, coming to a stop in front of what Sandy assumed was the dressing room door. After they had been standing there for a moment, a man in a checked suit jacket came walking out with a stride like a drill sergeant. He gave them the briefest of glances as he passed. "Gayle," he said.

She nodded at the man. "Hi, Herb."

Sandy stiffened at the sound of the name and watched the man walk away. Once he was gone, she turned to Gayle. "Was that their coach?"

"Oh, yeah," Gayle said. "I bet Bah's told you all about him."

"Just kind of scary things," Sandy said.

"That guy?" Di craned her neck and stared down the hallway as if she could still see Herb marching away. "He looks a lot younger than I thought he would. Didn't seem that scary to me."

Gayle grinned. "Well, I guess they don't need to be old. And I wouldn't say he's scary. Just—intimidating, maybe. He's not someone you want to make mad."

Someone suddenly grabbed Sandy and Di's shoulders from behind. They both jumped and turned to see Bah standing there. Sandy noticed that he looked pretty terrific in his shirt and tie and dramatically tousled, shower wet hair. He, in turn, noticed her staring and winked. "Jumpy, are we?"

"Oh, I was just telling them about Herb," Gayle said.

"Ah, say no more. That's enough to put the most dedicated horror fan on edge." He grinned at them. "So, how did you guys like the game?"

"It was great," Di piped up. "We loved it."

Bah raised his eyebrows at her and turned to Sandy. "Did we love it?"

Sandy nodded her agreement. "I guess I can see what all the fuss is about."

He started to reply but was interrupted by Buzz Schneider leaving the dressing room. "Oh, hi," he said, walking past them to kiss Gayle on the cheek. "Were all of you waiting for me?"

"I guess sort of," Gayle said. "We were wondering what your plans were for tonight." She gestured at him and Bah as she spoke.

Buzz frowned deeply. "Mom and Dad are here, aren't they?" As Gayle nodded, his face lit up with unmistakable relief. "I don't think we," he pointed at himself and then at Gayle, "should go out tonight if they're here visiting. We should go right now, you know—just so we don't keep them waiting any longer." Sandy noticed, curiously, that Buzz kept staring over their shoulders at the dressing room door.

"Oh," Gayle said. "Okay." She turned to Sandy, Di, and Bah. "Have a lot of fun for us, all right?"

They all nodded obediently and the Schneiders left. Buzz hustled Gayle up the stairs, clapping his hands behind her to make her go faster. Di frowned at Bah after they had gone. "Why was he in such a hurry to get out of here?"

Bah laughed, but he seemed to take a page or of Buzz's book as he started shepherding them back towards the staircase. "Not super-subtle, was he? Our goalie is just a little much tonight, is all. Jimmy," he added to Sandy, as if remembering that he had mentioned the name to her at some point. "He was trying to get people to come out dancing tonight, and I said yes because I couldn't think of an excuse fast enough, so that's—" he paused, looking over at Di. "Are you old enough to get into bars?"

Di shook her head. "No, but I can't come out anyway. You could just use me as an excuse, though."

Bah ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "No, better not. I should probably go and be a good teammate. How about you?" he asked, elbowing Sandy. "Do you feel like coming out?"

"Sure," Sandy said. "Not if it's a team building thing, though, and Di—"

"Oh my God, please just go with him," Di burst out. "You're the luckiest and you're going to have the best time."

Bah nodded. "It's true. You are going to have an incredible time. Plus having a girl with us'll make it look less like we're just out prowling at the bar. Sometimes it seems..." He trailed off, his eyes widening a little as they heard the door to the dressing room open again. The three of them turned to look.

It was only Robbie, but he was with another guy who very well might have been Jimmy for all Sandy and Di knew. "Are you actually coming out tonight?" Robbie asked.

"Yeah. Sandy's coming," Bah said.

"Oh, dammit. I was hoping you'd have something else going on that I could use. They're all going somewhere downtown to go dancing and—" he paused, shaking his head.

The other guy grinned at them. "It'll be the one time being underage paid off. I don't think I've met you," he added, nodding at Sandy and Di. "I'm Dave Christian."

"Koho," Robbie said.

Di shook Dave's hand. "Di. I have no funny nicknames."

"And I've mentioned Sandy," Bah said, jerking a thumb in her direction.

"Good to meet you, Di... Debbie," Dave said, moving from Di to shake hands with Sandy.

Sandy was so puzzled as they shook that she missed her cue to correct him. Surely Dave had just heard Bah say her name.

"Did you ladies enjoy the game?" Robbie asked. "And, more importantly, was my mom nice to you?"

"She was," Sandy said. "And the game was a lot of fun—thanks again for the tickets."

"She wanted to know if we were your girlfriends," Di added, giggling, and Robbie squeezed his eyes shut in embarrassment.

"Did she really?" He shook his head. "I'm sorry about that. Do you know if she was still up there?"

They shrugged, assuming that she was probably was, still visiting. Robbie and Dave ran up the stairs to go check. Sandy turned to Bah when they had gone. "Didn't your parents come?"

He grinned at her. "Why, were you wanting to meet them?" Sandy shook her head firmly and he laughed, starting to make his way back towards the stairs to the main level of the arena. "Don't answer so quick. No, they came last night to the game in Hibbing, and that was a nice, short drive for them, so I didn't expect them to come all the way down here on a Sunday night."

When they got back upstairs, Bah excused himself to go, as he put it, "gladhand with all the parents." This was an accurate description, Sandy thought, as she watched him exclaim as he encountered parents of guys on the team, shaking hands and listening intently to everyone he spoke to. Sandy stood against the wall near the door, feeling a little awkward and glad that Di had stuck around for a few more minutes.

"He'd make a good politician," Sandy said.

"Like a younger, better looking JFK," Di replied and then, seeing the expression on Sandy's face, scoffed. "I don't think you appreciate how good looking Bah is as much as you should."

Sandy laughed. "Sorry to hear that. I was staring at him downstairs when he came out and I'm pretty sure he noticed. He kind of caught me off guard."

Di giggled. "Isn't there just something about a hockey player?"

"Yeah." Sandy grinned. She hadn't expected to see them all in suits. The hockey players didn't really fit her mental image of what an athlete looked like after a game. "I kind of get it now."

"Do you think you feel any different about him now that you two have... You know?"

Sandy had told Di about her and Bah sleeping together during the car ride to the arena. She told her everything, from the trip to the bar to how she had tried to sneak into the house the next morning, still dressed in her clothes from the night before. Sandy had encountered Will and Jenny eating breakfast at the kitchen table, and they had acted a little too normal. Di had asked the question that Sandy had herself been thinking about with worrying frequency—the way she felt about Bah had definitely shifted slightly since that night, in a way that she hadn't expected. "I guess so," she said. "We actually haven't talked much since. They're always practicing and everything."

"You mean—" Di leaned closer to Sandy. "You mean you haven't done it since that night?"

Sandy lightly elbowed Di away. "No, Di. He's barely had time to call me on the phone, much less that."

"But you'd like to?" Di stared down at Sandy, expectant. After a moment, Sandy huffed, rolled her eyes, and then, not seeing the point in lying, nodded. Di clapped her hands together, and a few people standing nearby looked over at them. "I knew it," she said. "And I can't believe I haven't asked yet—how was it?"

Sandy stared at the ground. Her friends in high school had been a little on the quiet side, and so she figured that if they had been having sex, they just weren't telling her about it. She had friends while she was with Ray, but they were all closer to his age, and Sandy had always gotten the feeling that they were uncomfortable talking about her relationship with Ray. Having a discussion about sex while the subject in question was mere feet away having a conversation with Buzz Schneider's parents was uncharted territory for Sandy. "It was—" she paused as a hockey player came running up the stairs and walked past them. "It was good." She remembered the comparatively open conversation she and Bah had had on the street that night and sighed.

Di, who had been watching Sandy experience a kind of crisis of character, was giggling into her hands. "You're so funny," she said. "You know you don't have to go into detail about it if you don't want to. I know that's not the way you are."

"Well," Sandy said, folding her arms, "why did you ask?"

"Because I wanted to see what you'd say. And if it was good enough for you to say anything, it—"

Di stopped short as Bah suddenly appeared in front of them. "Ready to go?" he said. He gazed at Sandy, a curious expression on his face. "What's the matter? Is it too warm in here?"

Sandy, who could feel how red her cheeks were, shook her head as Di struggled to keep from laughing. "No. I'm fine. Where are we going?"

Continuing to peer suspiciously at Sandy, Bah said, "somewhere downtown in Minneapolis—there's a band playing. I said I'd drive us so we can leave whenever we want."

His pessimistic attitude towards the night gave Sandy an odd sense of foreboding. As they said goodbye to Di in the parking lot, she wondered if maybe she should have fought harder to just go home.

"So, what's going on with that guy Jimmy? You know, just so I'm prepared for it," Sandy asked once they were on their way.

Bah laughed a little and slowed down to stop for a red light. "Oh, that. You probably won't have to worry about him at all tonight—he was just sort of fired up because he had a good game. It's understandable, but he's a different guy, so he gets sort of carried away," he said. "You know, goalie stuff."

"What do you mean?"

The light turned green. "Oh, I guess you wouldn't know that—goalies are always odd. With Jimmy, I think he's just aware of how good he is and doesn't know how to deal with that. He's a big fan of telling everybody else what's wrong with their game, especially when he's doing well." Bah shrugged. "It can be a little much. He's a good enough guy, though."

They drove around downtown for a while, trying to find somewhere to park. Eventually Bah found a spot three blocks away, near where Dave Silk, Jack O'Callahan, and another guy were piling out of a car. "Hey, you brought Debbie," Jack said, clapping Bah on the back. "How are you doing, sweetheart?"

"She was at the game tonight, ya know, O'Cee," Dave said. "I saw her up in the stands next to McClanahan's mom in the family section."

Jack pushed his glasses up his nose. "No shit," he said. "You don't even like hockey, do you?"

Sandy shook her head. "I don't not like it," she said. "I just haven't watched much."

"Well, what'd you think?"

"It was fun. I saw your goal," she told Dave. This wasn't a lie, but Sandy had actually had a lot of trouble keeping up with the game and had only seen this goal because she had been resting her eyes and watching Dave when he got the puck and scored. She didn't remember seeing Jack at all, but she didn't mention this.

Dave grinned, but before he could speak, the other guy elbowed him. "You have a better shot at clapping eyes on Halley's Comet, so consider yourself lucky."

"Aw, shut up," Dave said. The two guys started playfully shoving at each other, and a moment later Jack joined in, apparently unable to resist the siren call of horseplay.

Sandy turned back to Bah and mouthed, "who is that?" gesturing at the third guy.

"Jack Hughes," Bah said, as the other players continued to walk ahead of them. "He's another one of the Boston guys. And he didn't play tonight, so make sure you don't tell him he had a good game."

She laughed. "Thanks for the tip."

When they got to the door, Sandy held it open for a man carrying a guitar case and a duffel bag. He winked at her as he passed. "Thanks, darlin'," he said. "Remind me to get you a drink later."

Sandy blinked and was unable to come up with a response before he was gone toward the back of the bar, swinging the duffel bag in his hand.

"Do you know that guy?" Bah asked, and she shook her head. "Musicians are the only guys who are worse than hockey players, you know," he said, widening his eyes goofily at her as they went inside.

"That's pretty convenient for you, a hockey player, to say," Sandy told him.

Bah shrugged. "We're still second worst. That's still very bad."

They settled at a cluster of tables that the boys had pushed together as the band came onto the stage and started to play. The guy from the door was the lead guitarist, loudly playing Rolling Stones covers to the crowded bar. Sandy studied the players at the table, mentally taking note of all names she knew—Dave Silk, Jack O'Callahan, Jack Hughes, Bah, Robbie McClanahan, and Phil Verchota. There were four more who she hadn't met yet, and four girls who Sandy assumed were wives or girlfriends before considering that she was neither.

It wasn't nearly as awful a time as Bah seemed to think it would be. He certainly appeared to be enjoying himself. They were sitting next to a guy with a high pitched voice who introduced himself to Sandy as Mike Eruzione. "So, is this as glamorous as you thought it would be, Deb?" Mike gestured around them at the bar. "Out with an Olympic athlete?"

Sandy grinned. "Oh, it's much better, for sure."

Mike waved a dismissive hand at her and made a pshaw sound. "You shoulda come with us to Europe and seen all the sights."

"Well, I barely knew her at the time, so I don't think I would have invited her to come to Europe for a month," Bah pointed out. "Unless you would have said yes," he added, looking quickly from Mike to Sandy.

"Ah, you've got no romance in your heart," Mike said. He seemed a little drunker than everyone else. "Have you ever been to Europe?"

Sandy shook her head. "No, but it would be interesting to go someday."

"She wants to go to Paris," Bah added.

Mike rolled his head around, apparently not content to just roll his eyes. "There's no hockey in Paris."

Bah laughed and took a sip of his beer. "That's what I said!"

"We were in Oslo, and that's a beautiful city. Right, Bah?" Mike paused for Bah to nod. "Now, that would be quite a date."

Bah grinned at Sandy. "Can't argue with that."

Some time later, the band took a break. Sandy happened to be at the bar when they did, trying and failing to catch the eye of the bartender. The guitarist was suddenly there beside her. He snapped his fingers and the bartender came over, looking a little harassed, and he ordered a bourbon and water. The bartender walked away before Sandy could get his attention and the guitarist rested his elbows on the bar, waiting. After a moment, he turned to look at her, seeming to have just noticed her standing there. "Hi there," he said, turning around and leaning back against the bar. "Are you having a good night?"

Sandy nodded. "Yeah, thanks. You guys were great up there." She gestured up at the stage, somewhat unnecessarily. She hadn't really been paying attention to the band, but she found it easier to act like she had been than it was to act like she knew what had happened during the hockey game.

"Oh, thank you," he said. "You know, I used to say that the only reason why a guy would become a musician is for the girls and the cigarettes. And I've been trying to quit smoking, so that means a lot coming from you—it's great to meet a fan." There was a long pause during which Sandy tried to work out how to respond to this. Eventually he laughed. "I'm just bugging you. We have no fans. I'm Jeff," he said, holding out a hand.

They shook. "Sandy," she said.

"What are you drinking tonight, Sandy?" Jeff asked. "I believe I promised you a drink."

"You don't have to do that," Sandy said. "I'm getting something for me and the guy I'm with. Thank you, though."

Jeff put his hand up and the bartender came walking back like he was attached to it, holding Jeff's drink. "The nice lady would like to order something," he said. "I got this round."

Sandy ordered beer for herself and Bah and tried to take her money out of her purse. "You don't have to—" she tried again, but Jeff cut her off.

"I know," he said. "I'm just being polite. Don't tell your guy someone else bought it, though—I know I wouldn't like that." With that, Jeff turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Bah watched Sandy walk back over to the table. "Who the hell is that guy? Is he bothering you?"

"No, no." Sandy set the glasses down and sat. "He just bought our drinks."

"What?" Bah craned his neck and Sandy realized that Jeff had been right. "Why?"

Sandy shrugged, feeling the eyes of some of the people at the table on them, even as they all continued to have their own conversations. "Just being nice, I guess. Is that not okay?"

"No, it is, it's just—I'm not sure why he'd do that, is all," Bah said, staring up at the stage as the band came back on. "I'm gonna—" he looked back down at Sandy, who was frowning at him. "Apologize. I'm sorry. What's our policy on jealousy, just so I know?"

Sandy laughed in spite of herself. "Our official stance is that it's not allowed when we get free beer out of it," she said, clinking her glass against Bah's. "Don't worry about him."

To Bah's credit, he didn't seem worried about it. Sandy did notice that he started drinking more, which made her slowly sip her beer, thinking it might come to her to drive them home. Bah even clapped politely as the band thanked the crowd and left the stage. It was past midnight by that point, but the boys decided to stay and have another drink. "If enough of us are burnt out tomorrow, it'll be harder for Herb to notice," Jack Hughes said.

"Or everybody else will look better in comparison," Phil pointed out.

"Who's saying they don't already?" The guy who had spoken, the one with black hair and blue eyes and a truckload of bravado, was, by Sandy's best guess, Jimmy the goalie. He was the only one at the table who hadn't introduced himself.

Sandy was suddenly aware of Bah being gone. She looked around, confused. He had just been there a moment before, poking fun at Mike. "Did you see where Bah went?" she asked.

"He was either going to the can or going outside," Mike said. "He was in a hurry to get out of here, either way."

A terrible thought occurred to Sandy, and she scanned the room in search of Jeff. Not finding him sitting with the band at the bar, she got to her feet. Mike peered up at her through thick beer goggles.

"What?"

She navigated around tables and chairs, hurrying toward the door. Surely Bah wasn't drunk enough to say something to Jeff, she thought. He had been perfectly fine up until that point.

Sandy pushed through the door and took a deep breath of the cold night air. "Are you getting to the point when the night takes a negative turn?" Sandy turned in the direction the voice had come from and saw Jeff the guitarist leaning against the wall of the bar, a cigarette between his fingers.

She let out the breath she hadn't noticed she was holding in, looking around for Bah and realizing how ridiculous she was being. "I thought you were trying to quit," she said after a moment.

He looked at the cigarette in his hand like he hadn't realized it was there and flicked it away. "Starting right now, let's say," he said. "You didn't answer my question."

"I'm looking for my friend."

He smirked at her and pushed himself off the building. "What—the one with the choirboy haircut? What are you doing with that guy, anyway? He pretty great in the sack?"

He walked towards Sandy and she took a step back. She wanted to turn and walk back into the bar, but she felt, at the same time, compelled to keep talking to Jeff. It felt exciting in a way she couldn't quite describe. "Do you get many girls by talking negatively about the guys they're with?" Sandy heard herself ask the question as if she was listening to the exchange on the radio.

Jeff made a wishy-washy motion with his hand. "Well, different kinds of girls," he said. "I hope I'm not making you uncomfortable. I bet you're wishing you hadn't opened that door for me earlier. Let me try something else." He paused, apparently in deep thought. After a moment he cleared his throat and said, "on stage at these bars I like to look out at the crowd and try to pick out the most beautiful girl in the room. For inspiration, you know. Tonight, I knew it would be you before we even started playing."

He took a couple more steps closer as the door opened next to them. Jeff continued walking, past Sandy and into the bar without another word. She shivered slightly and turned to see who was standing in the doorway.

It was Dave Silk. "What's goin' on?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at her.

"I thought maybe Bah came out here to get some air," Sandy said. "Have you seen him?"

Dave nodded. "Yeah, I have. C'mon, you'll freeze your ass standing out here." He held the door open for Sandy to come back into the bar and steered her in the direction on the washroom. "He's in there," he said, fanning her towards the door. "He told me to go find you."

Sandy paused. "In the... Men's room?" She felt like an idiot a half a second after she spoke. Dave laughed as she pushed through the door.

Bah was standing outside of the only stall, and Sandy was oddly relieved to see that he wasn't alone. Robbie was crouched in front of the toilet. She came around the corner and Bah glanced up at her. He grinned. "Robbie's feeling a little sick. We were wondering if you were okay to get us home."

"It's not—" Robbie raised his head out of the toilet for a moment to speak. "It's not that I'm drunk. I think I got food poisoning. It might be serious. We gotta go to the hospital."

"Really—?" Sandy started to ask, but Bah cut her off, shaking his head. "Oh. Okay, Robbie, do you want to go home?" Robbie nodded into the toilet. "Okay, help him up," she told Bah, who awkwardly grabbed his teammate by the armpits and hauled him to his feet.

Sandy kept her head down as they helped Robbie outside. His "food poisoning" was so bad that he needed to stop and throw up again on the front step of a building they passed on the way back to the car. "Yell if you're going to puke in my car," Bah told him. "If you make a mess back there you're cleaning it up, Robbie."

In response, Robbie curled up in the back seat and groaned. Sandy pulled a seat belt around his waist, tightening it so he wouldn't roll onto the floor.

They had been driving for a few minutes in silence before Bah spoke. "So, where did you go? Silkie said you weren't at the table or in the bathroom."

"I was looking for you outside," she said.

Bah frowned. "Why did you think I'd be outside?"

Robbie said something quietly and so Sandy took a moment to check to see if he was all right in the rear view mirror before responding. "I just—I looked up and all of the sudden you were gone, and I couldn't see that guy from the band anymore either, so I thought—"

"You thought I went out to try and fight him?" Bah let out a short laugh. "Please tell me you're joking."

"Well, you were seriously annoyed when he bought our drinks," Sandy said. "What was I supposed to think?"

Bah shook his head. "I don't know."

They didn't speak for the remainder of the drive, and Sandy didn't kid herself by thinking that maybe Bah had just passed out. When they pulled up to the apartment complex, Sandy got out of the car and tried to help Robbie stand, but Bah got in the way.

"Just take my car home," he said. "Bring it back in the morning. I can handle him."

Sandy stared at him, incredulous. "Seriously? Are you really that mad?"

Bah pulled Robbie into a standing position. "Nope," he said, and turned away from her.

This all suddenly seemed ridiculous to Sandy, and so she threw Bah's keys at his retreating back and started to walk home. She heard them jingle onto the sidewalk and Bah let out a sigh before he called after her.

"Come back. Don't make me chase after you in my car; I'm inebriated."

Robbie's roommate, Phil Verchota, was still at the bar. This was lucky, as the noise the three of them made trying to get Robbie (who kept insisting that he wasn't drunk) to go to bed would have woken the heaviest sleeper.

"Is anyone else starving? Do you guys want a sandwich or something?"

Sandy shook her head, but Bah, seemingly forgetting their mission of getting Robbie to go to sleep, said, "I could eat a sandwich."

Robbie, stubbornly refusing Sandy's help, made the three of them somewhat sloppy ham and cheese sandwiches and climbed up onto the kitchen counter to eat his. "Careful you don't get crumbs all over my clean floor," he told them.

When they had all finished eating and Robbie was satisfied that there were no crumbs anywhere, he finally allowed himself to be gently shoved into his bedroom.

"You two should stay the night. I don't want you driving," Robbie said, lying on his back on the bed while Bah wrenched his shoes off and tossed them into the corner of the room.

"Well, we're just going down the hall, so I don't know how much damage we can do," Bah said.

Robbie shook his head and patted the bed on either side of his body. "Just sleep it off here. And please don't fuck on my bed once I'm asleep. Debbie. Please."

Sandy glanced at Bah, who heaved an exhausted sigh. He mouthed, "just for a bit," at her and then said, out loud, "you got it, buddy," and he laid down on Robbie's left side. After a moment, Sandy settled down on his right.

The apartment was silent for the first time since Sandy entered it, and she felt the weight of the night slide off of her like a wet blanket. Within minutes, Robbie was snoring next to them.

Several minutes passed, and then something occurred to Sandy. "Why do all these guys keep calling me Debbie?" she asked, and Bah, who had evidently almost been asleep, raised his head off the bed with a grunt.

"Huh? Oh—I wondered when you were gonna ask about that. The other day I mentioned you, and someone asked me who you looked like. You know, like which celebrity. And I just thought of someone blonde and said Debbie Harry, because I couldn't think of anybody who could—I don't know, stack up, I guess. They're just being asses."

"Oh. I guess there are worse things they could call me."

A long stretch of time passed before Bah spoke again in a quiet voice, surprising Sandy by still being awake. "Did you like that guy? Tonight—that guy at the bar?"

Sandy didn't answer. She didn't exactly know how.

"Because it's fine if you did—I mean, obviously I don't love it, but I'm not going to try and—"

"That wasn't it," she whispered, cutting him off. "It was just—weird. Can I be honest with you?"

Bah didn't respond for a few moments, apparently thinking about it. "Of course you can," he said.

"When I went outside to look for you and he was out there—I don't know, I was standing talking to him, it was like a part of me wanted to see what would happen if I just stayed there long enough. Now that I'm here away from it, I feel like it's pretty clear that that guy was kind of…" she paused, trying to find the word. "Predatory. He didn't care that I was with you."

"And you were into that?"

Robbie grumbled in his sleep and rolled over, breathing boozy breath into Sandy's face. She gently pushed him over onto his back. "I don't know. Sometimes I think I sabotage good things in my life." She had never said this out loud before, and it felt oddly therapeutic to have the words out in the world, even if Bah was the only one who heard them.

She saw Bah prop himself up on his elbows to look over at her. "Why do you think that is?"

Sandy exhaled loudly, rolling her head over to look at Bah. "I'm worried I don't deserve them," she said, in a voice that was barely a whisper.

The dim outline of Bah's face that was visible in the dark room gave away no clues as to what he was thinking. Then he reached over Robbie's sleeping form and grabbed Sandy's hand. "You do."

Sandy squeezed his hand but didn't respond, worried that she would start crying and wake Robbie up.