Draw the Line

chapter twenty-three

It's chilling — the silence before the explosion; the almost peaceful moment before everything around you is destroyed. Working game day shifts, I know it all too well. When I look over my shoulder, I catch the exact moment Micah jumps up and blocks a shot, hitting it so hard it's sent flying down the court. Luke is the first one to break away from the rest, chasing after the ball, and when he grabs it, never breaking his stride as he bolts down the court, the entire diner stops breathing as we watch him. He doesn't spare a look at the defenders sprinting to catch up to him as he stops at the three-point line and releases the ball just as the loud buzzer echoes through the speakers. When the ball falls into the basket without touching the rim, the crowd in the arena erupts.

The screams are first, an ear-shattering echo that rattles through the diner, but then the explosion of food comes next, flying into the air like confetti. Half-eaten burgers, fries, salads, even a milkshake is thrown up in celebration, and the air deflates in my lungs as I watch it all come crashing down, splattering all over the tables, booths, and floor.

"Afterparty at Sigma — bring your own bottle!" A voice echoes above the rest of the cacophony.

It only takes a second for that to register amongst the drunken crowd before all hell breaks loose and each table empties, racing out into the parking lot. I'm shoved into a booth as a group of girls squeezes through the crowd, and when the bell on the door chimes as it finally slams shut, I sit up on the seat and glance around. Lacie's staring wide-eyed at me from behind the counter, Kelsie and Maria are watching from the safety of the booth in the very back, and Nancy is peeking out from the kitchen. The diner is silent, apart from the reporters starting their post-game reports, and when the kitchen door creaks before slamming shut, Nancy surveys the restaurant, her lips pursing as she takes in the mess.

"Alright, ladies, let's get going — business as usual, even with the mess. Everyone except the closer is still getting cut at nine, so let's help Lacie out as much as we can before that. Josie, try to get these front booths; Maria and Kelsie can take the back two sections. Lace — just worry about the bar top and...whatever that is." She motions toward the green liquid dripping from the bar top. It looks like someone mixed the leftovers of every milkshake on the menu into one cup and shook it up. My nose wrinkles at the chunks of who knows what mixed into the mess.

Nancy claps her hands and walks back into the kitchen, likely to help them get cleaned up so she can cut the extra cooks as soon as possible. Popping up from the booth, I collect everything I'll need from the supplies stocked under the bar top — a handful of clean hand towels, two sanitizing spray bottles, a dish caddy, and one of the industrial-sized brooms and dustpans. It takes two trips since the broom is taller than I am, but now that I'm here, smack dab in the middle of the burger and fry graveyard, I start sweeping.

There's a murmur of voices from the other end of the diner, probably Maria and Kelsie deciding who has to do what, but it's nearly drowned out by the reporter's voices still echoing through the restaurant. I'm tempted to ask Lacie to turn it off so we can listen to music to make this experience a little less soul-crushing, but when the reporter says Micah's name, I freeze mid-sweep.

"That was a hell of a game. The USW Warriors were fighting for their lives out there against Oregon in the first pre-season game of the year. We had a suspicion that we'd see some kinks and bumps in the road for USW after Tristan Beck graduated, but I've got to say, I wasn't expecting to see them struggle like that."

The reporter on the other end of the table nods emphatically. "Turn over after turn over, open shots not taken, and the sheer discombobulation of this team. Had I not known that was USW playing out there tonight, I wouldn't have believed it. Micah Costa was clearly trying to keep his ship from sinking, stepping up and playing at a level we've never seen from him before, commanding that court even when he didn't have the ball in his hands. But you can't save a sinking ship on your own, and if Luke McConnell — who was limping so severely by halftime Coach Kennley had to pull him out of the game — hadn't come back in for the last five minutes, USW would have been done for. Costa and McConnell are the heart of this team this season. They were surrounded by crimson jerseys, but they were the only two standing on that court tonight if you ask me. The only two who looked like they were prepared to be out there. Let's just hope Coach Kennley can whip the rest of that team into shape, so they don't have to do it alone for the rest of the season. They're a chaotic duo — dangerous when they're on the court together, like fire and gasoline, but how long can they carry their team before they burn out?"