Page 140 of Almost Rotten

Even when the narcotics I agreed to take pull me under and force my eyes closed, I keep a tight hold on my girl—my wife—who willingly and eagerly kissed me back tonight.

Just like it was always meant to be.

Chapter sixty

Sawyer

I’m so nervous I could puke.

It’s event night, yet I haven’t spoken to Mercer in two days. He hasn’t answered any of my calls, and I haven’t even seen him since we went our separate ways on Wednesday after the game.

Noah has texted me each morning like usual. Everything is okay in that respect. I should have just asked Noah about Mercer, but I’ve been too anxious to broach the subject.

The silence scares me.

Especially because I still have to confess to both of them that I kissed Tytus two nights ago. It was a goodbye kiss: a last-ditch effort to get him to take his meds, and to wrangle out of his grasponce and for all. I feel awful, and the longer I go without being able to make real contact with Mercer, the more anxious I feel about the entire situation.

Unfortunately, my concerns will have to wait until this weekend. This late-night event has consumed every waking thought that doesn’t include stressing about Mercer. It’s infiltrated my sleep, too. Last night I dreamed that the only people who showed up were toddlers, and that since it was so late, they all whined and cried throughout the games.

I’ve already been out to the orchard twice today for setup.

I ran back to the dorms once more to change and grab a few extra things for the emergency kit. I’m as prepared as I can be, but it still doesn’t ease the sense of foreboding.

We’re set to start in an hour, and my brain is going a million miles an hour, flipping through all the last-minute tasks that still need to be checked off.

“Hey,” Ty says from the passenger seat. “Breathe. It’s game day. We’ve got this.”

Easy for him to say. Most of his group’s job is already done. They set up the games and parameters earlier. Tonight, they’ll serve as floaters.

When I pull into the parking lot, all the air whooshes from my lungs.

“Fuckin’ A,” Ty murmurs.

Oh my god.

There’s nowhere to park.

The lot is full, and streams of students exit one of the buses we arranged to transport them here from campus.

The concessions line is wrapped around the porch twice. And near the barn, a dozen people are making use of the photobooth.

“Ty,” I whisper, my hands tight on the wheel. “Look at all these people.”

Distracted, I hit a pothole as I cruise around the back in search of parking, causing Ty to hiss.

“Shit. Sorry.” I wince. “You really shouldn’t be out here tonight.”

His ribs look worse than they did two nights ago. I made him show me when he got in the car. But he’s made it to morning skate and practice each day. And he wouldn’t hear it when I suggested he sit out tonight.

He hasn’t shown up at my dorm since he was injured, and I fully intend to drop him off at his building tonight, too.

With a soft smile, he shakes his head. “I wasn’t letting you come here alone. And I definitely didn’t want to give the professor any reason to dock points.”

I brush off the irritation that hits when his possessive tone registers and focus on finding a spot. Finally, I pull around back, where the employees usually park, and into an open spot directly beside Mercer’s Audi.

My heart hammers against my chest for an entirely different reason as I think about Mercer. At the very least, I need to find him and make plans to talk. But first I have to make sure the students and volunteers are all in their places.

“Ready?” Ty asks, grimacing as he pushes the passenger door open.