“Um…” I glance behind me at the large flat screen that shows the fighters being interviewed “…who are you hoping wins?”

“It’s not so much that I’m hoping for anyone to win. It’s who I am hoping loses.”

My lips twist into a smile. “Alright, who are we hoping loses?”

“Callan the Canary.”

My eyebrows raise as I look to Danny. “He goes by The Canary?” I turn back to look at the screen. “Canaries aren’t predatory birds.” The words leave my mouth as the TV turns to a man dressed in a bright yellow suit with huge aviator sunglasses and blond hair. “He looks like the Man in the Yellow Hat.”

“Who?” Fitz asks, scrubbing his jaw as his eyes shift between the TV and me.

“Curious George,” Danny answers.

I look at Danny. My surprise for him knowing who the fictional character is shifts when I find him looking back at me without his constant smile, but an intense stare. It’s a look that I haven’t seen from anyone in months, one that I feel conflicting emotions about seeing again, especially when it’s not from him. I blink a couple of times and look at the shot glass on the table that has become my drink of choice because of all that it embodies. The sight of it alone clears my head of Danny. “Alright to The Canary losing!” I say, lifting my glass and quickly shifting my attention to Fitz.

“Cheers!” Fitz calls above the noise of the bar.

“Here, here!” Danny’s cheers are joined by several nearby tables and increase when Danny and I each drain our glass. I fight back the wince that always forms from the drink. I still hate the taste of whiskey.

“I think they want you to get wasted, H,” Fitz says, passing me a full glass of beer and smiling mischievously. My eyebrows rise and my chin drop as I look at him and shake my head.

Our waitress returns once again, this time with a full tray of drinks. She passes us each an additional shot of amber liquid. “The gentleman in the cowboy hat bought these for you guys and wishes you luck, Danny.” She lifts an additional shot from her tray and places it in front of me. “And this is from the man over there,” she says, her voice to cheery as she nods toward a large, burly man covered in flannel and smiling at me.

“Um, no. Thanks.” I shake my head and slide the glass back to her with my fingertips.

She shrugs with indifference and removes it before leering at Danny once again.

“He looks a little sad now, H,” Fitz drawls as the waitress delivers the refused shot to the man in flannel.

I turn my head as he looks over to us and scoot my chair closer to Fitz.

“I’m not being your fake boyfriend tonight,” he says, sliding his chair against the concrete floor in protest. “There’s a beautiful, curly-haired blond that keeps checking me out.”

“That’s fine, you can go talk to him. I just need Al Borland to lose interest,” I plead.

“You’re fine. You’re hot and single. Enjoy it. If someone comes over, I’ll say I’m your boyfriend,” he promises with a wink before turning his attention back to the curly blond.

“So what do you think of all this snow?” Danny asks. Holding his shot glass by the rim with three fingers, he slides it over the table. I feel entranced by the movement, watching as he spins it in lazy circles.

“They weren’t kidding when they said arctic front.” My eyes snap to his, needing to break from following his movements. “I feel like I’m the giant marshmallow man from Ghostbusters every time I go outside with my ten layers,” I joke. I’m joking around! Easily! With someone other than Fitz! The realization causes a familiar tug on my lips, which feels eerily foreign as they lift into a smile.

He laughs in return. “This is nothing. I grew up in Detroit. Cold is in my blood. I don’t know if I could do palm trees and sun all year.”

“Detroit? Why are you in Delaware?”

“My mom’s actually from here. My dad’s my manager, and he travels with me quite a bit. So when things started getting pretty serious with my career, my parents moved down here so my aunts and grandparents could help. I’ve got three little sisters.”

“Really?” I stare at him in disbelief. “I have four sisters!”

“Do you have any brothers?”

“Nope. Just five girls. We do have a male dog,” I offer with a grin that falters slightly with the memory that he’s not ours anymore.

“Are you the oldest?”

“Youngest, actually.”

“Oh no, I know your type. You blame all of the trouble you cause on us older children!” he teases with a giant grin.

“Oh yeah, because there’s nothing to point blame at when you older siblings trail blaze and wreak havoc, causing new rules and parameters to be implemented that they hadn’t considered or thought of yet.”

“I can’t argue with that.” Danny’s eyes dance in the muted lighting of the bar. “But you guys also get us in trouble. You know everything and then hold it in your arsenals.”

I laugh loudly, thinking back to my sisters and how many of their secrets I’d known growing up. I swallow the rest of my laughter as a body sidles up beside me. I slide to the far side of my chair as I look over at the unwelcomed visitor. He’s close to my age and looks oddly familiar with his blond, gelled hair and heavy build. My head tilts slightly as I try to recall where I may have seen him and wonder if his average build and nondescript features simply tease at the idea that I may have met him before.

“Hey.” Blindingly white teeth allow the last puzzle piece to slide into place. I’ve stared at this same too-perfect of smile before.

“You’re in my Organic Chemistry class.” His grin widens, confirming my recollection and making me wish that I hadn’t as he shifts closer to me.

“Dude, if you’re going to hit on my girlfriend, at least wait until I’m not sitting right here watching.”

Both my classmate and I look over to Danny. Bright White beside me scrambles to straighten his pose. “S-sorry. I thought you guys were just friends,” he stammers with a hard swallow. He looks at me once more and then silently backs away from the table, disappearing into the crowd.

“You must be losing your edge,” Fitz chides, taking a long sip of water.

“That had nothing to do with me,” he rebukes, flashing his smile again as he shakes his head and fills a glass with beer.

“Thanks for that,” I say, reaching for the glass of beer that Fitz had poured me. Even though I hate the taste, I need something to break my unease, and I know I can trust Fitz to take care of me.

“Yeah, no problem. You can’t blame the guy. Hell, I’d approach you if you were at a table with other guys to confirm if you were single, too.”

I put my glass to my lips to prevent having to give a response.

“I’m going to order some food. What do you guys want?”

I turn to Fitz and silently plead for him to stay. After a comment like that, I can’t believe he’s considering leaving. A loud cheer erupts around us, filling the bar with more noise than seems possible, and I turn to take in the crowd and see their eyes fixed on the TV screens that have now all been changed to the same channel. The broadcaster introduces the contenders and I briefly watch the men walk up to the ring before I turn my attention back to Fitz only to find that he already slipped away.

“You’re afraid of me.”

My eyes cut to Danny who looks disappointed and slightly amused by his accurate account.

“I don’t think afraid is the right description. I don’t fear you,” I explain slowly.

“You don’t want to like me.”

He has no idea how right he is, nor how incapable I am. Max still consumes eighty percent of my thoughts on good, functioning days.

“But you do,” he continues, making my heart bleed in what I can’t decide is desperation for him to be right or a pang of anger at the possibility.

“Believe me, it’s better that I don’t.”

“Why is that?”

“It’s been a long year,” I say, throwing a blanket over the flame inside of my head that always sparks when my thoughts veer too closely to Max. The crowd roars over my response, and I turn to see what’s going on.