The Ripple

Chapter 1. Thursday nights

Broad Ripple smelled like cigarettes, fryer grease, and cold rain.
Cal pushed through the front doors of Brothers Bar & Grill still wearing his black retail polo under a winter coat. Ten hours dealing with angry customers and short staffing had drained every ounce of patience out of him.
Gage was already sitting in a booth waving two tequila shots in the air like a man celebrating survival.
"There he is!" Gage yelled.
"Corporate America's strongest soldier."
Cal slid into the booth.
"I almost turned around in the parking lot."
"Yeah, but you didn't."
That was the thing about Gage. He had a way of making bad decisions sound like destiny.

The TVs above the bar blasted Pacers highlights while college kids packed the room shoulder to shoulder. Outside, snow drifted softly onto Broad Ripple Avenue.
Behind the bar moved Maya.
Dark hair tied up. Tattoos barely visible beneath rolled sleeves. She moved like somebody who had already seen every version of drunk confidence possible.
"You look thrilled to be alive," she told Cal while setting drinks down.
"He works retail," Gage answered for him.
"Ah," Maya nodded.
"So emotionally dead."
Cal laughed despite himself.
By midnight the crowd got louder, the music got worse, and Gage was trying to convince strangers they should all rent a house together.
"You ever think we peaked in middle school?" Cal asked quietly.
Gage stared at him.
"Bro," he said,
"you are not allowed to have existential thoughts after tequila."
Outside, snow covered the sidewalks in silver slush while Indianapolis glowed under orange streetlights.
For the first time in years, Cal didn't want to go home immediately.