“You know he’s got the best weed in town. We’re going to get fucked up, yo,”
Quinn said. “By the way,” he turned to Lindsay, “your boy loves to fucking get high.
Did he tell you that?”
I just laughed. “Shut the hell up, man.” The truth was, I hadn’t smoked weed in months. Not since the shit went down last year, when I almost blew my chance to fight professionally. But I didn’t advertise that fact. I was clean now, and aside from a few drinks, I was mostly sober too. But these knuckleheads didn’t have any respect unless you were fighting and partying 24/7.
As the boys started walking again, I looked at Lindsay. “You want to go to the party?” I said, suddenly uneasy and awkward, as if we didn’t even know each other anymore.
Lindsay shook her head. “I think I should get back to the dorms. I’ve got to be up super early tomorrow.”
“I’ll take you back, then,” I said. I wanted to tell the boys to forget it, that I wasn’t going to the stupid party. I wanted to be with Lindsay and tell her about my life, about the possible deal with the UFF that would validate all the effort I’d been putting in these past few years.
But Lindsay just sighed. “No, don’t be silly. Go with your friends.”
“I want to go with you.”
“Please, Justin—I’m fine. I’ll take a cab back. Okay?” She was already backing away from me.
I looked at my friends, who were standing nearby, waiting for me.
“Lindsay, seriously—”
“Just go,” she said. “Don’t worry about me.” And then she turned around and left….