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Wasted Words Page 45
Author: Staci Hart

“Are we on the wrong aisle?”

Cam twisted to look behind us. “No. Our seats are right here.”

“Oh, God.” I looked around for her but found only a few people scattered around.

“Why would those people leave Casey there? They said they’d watch her,” Cam said, frustrated.

“Wait,” Tracey said, her face contorted in confusion, “those nice German people across the aisle?”

“Oh, God,” I groaned again before depositing Tracey in the chair that had just occupied Casey.

“Oh, God,” Tracey echoed, the words full of warning as she hung her head between her knees.

I turned to Cam, who had taken the seat next to Tracey and had a hand on her back.

“You stay here and keep an eye on Tracey. Let me go look for Casey.”

Cam nodded, and I whipped my phone out of my pocket, texting Kyle as I flew up the stairs two at a time. Your twins are wasted.

My phone buzzed. Just the way I like them.

No, as in I’ve lost one and the other is about to puke a pony keg on the fifty.

Shit. Hold the fort, brother.

I cursed him under my breath as I walked around the stadium. It was nearly empty by that point, just vendors left closing up, but no one had seen Casey, and by the time I’d made my way around to our aisle again, I’d all but lost hope. But as I descended the stairs, I saw two blondes in Giants hats — one passed out like she’d been there the whole time, and the other with mascara running down her face. She looked up at me with a red nose.

“I threw up.”

I looked at the slop between her feet. “I can see that. Where’s Cam?”

Tracey looked around, confused as she wiped her nose. “She was just right here.”

“Fuck,” I muttered and ran a hand through my hair, pulling out my phone. First, a text to Cam: Are you okay? I’ve got the twins. The second to Kyle. Get your ass here right now, bro. Now.

When I looked up, Cam was jogging down the row toward us, looking relieved.

“They keep multiplying and dividing like a science experiment,” she said when she reached us. “Where’d you find her?”

“Right here.”

Her face bent, confused. “How the …”

“No idea.”

She sighed and looked out onto the field. “I thought I saw her across the way, so I went over to check.”

Tracey glanced up at Cam with a hangdog look on her face. “I threw up.”

Cam’s face softened. “You sure did. Where’s your water?”

She looked around. “I dunno.”

Cam bent down and found it under the seat. “Here you go. Rinse your mouth out.”

Tracey tried to smile. “Thank you.”

Cam turned to me. “We’ve got to get them out of here.”

My phone buzzed with a text from Kyle. I’m waiting out front.

On our way, I answered. You owe me.

I slipped my phone back in my pocket and hung my hands on my hips, assessing the twins. “All right. Do you think you can get Tracey?”

“We’ll manage. What about Casey?”

“I’ll have to carry her.”

Cam sighed. “At least you’re big and strong.”

“He’s so strong,” Tracey added helpfully.

I pulled off Casey’s hat and handed it to Cam. Underneath, the girl looked a mess, lipstick smeared, face slack. I picked her up and slung her over my shoulder. She was heavy and awkward to carry, complete dead weight.

Cam eyed me warily as she helped Tracey up. “You sure you’ve got her?”

I shifted Casey and tried to smile. “My buddy Jimmy would say she’s gone full Gumby. But yeah, I’ve got her. Probably easier this way than if she was moving around.”

She braced herself under Tracey. “If you say so, hero.”

I chuckled. “All right. Let’s do this.”

We climbed the stairs in mostly silence, all of us concentrating on our tasks, aside from Casey, who snored softly on my shoulder. The looks we got on the way out were full of laughter and pity, and a couple of cops asked if we were okay. I wasn’t even mad, just ready to get out of there, get the girls home, and have it all behind us.

I hopped Casey a little on my shoulder to adjust her as we walked down the ramp, and within a second, something warm trickled down my forearm and the front of my shirt.

It took me a second to realize that Casey was peeing.

“Son of a bitch.” I hissed, but I didn’t stop walking, just charged on. The damage was done, and I had nowhere to put poor Casey.

“What’s wrong?” Cam asked, alarmed.

“I’ve got piss on me.”

“Are you serious?” she asked, her voice flat.

Tracey laughed, then hiccuped, skidding to a halt as she burped up a mouthful. It hit Cam’s shoes with a splat. Tracey’s eyes were huge and horrified. “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry.”

Just when I expected Cam to lose her shit, a laugh burst out of her. It was a deep belly laugh, and her face scrunched up as she paused and bent over, hinging Tracey with her.

I’d stopped and walked back to meet her, unsure what I was dealing with. “Are you okay?”

She put up her hand and swiped it back and forth, head hanging as she laughed and laughed. “I just … I can’t. It’s too much."

I found myself smiling, fighting back laughter. “I’m not counting this as a date.”

Cam stood back up, face red as she blew out a breath and shifted to get a good hold of Tracey. “Oh, I am. I so am. Come on, Tracey. Let’s get some food in you.”

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