THE NEXT MORNING, AT BREAKFAST with my pledge brothers, I have only one goal in mind: finding out what happened when I blacked out, beyond what the police report says, beyond what I already know, and, most importantly, why Ember hasn’t texted me back.
As we’re seated at our usual table, they have solemn looks on their faces.
“So, who’s gonna be the first to let me know what the fuck happened the other night?”
With wide eyes, Mac says, “All I know is, that fucker came out of nowhere and busted the bottle over your head before I could even say anything. And then you went all UFC on his ass.”
“Yeah, I remember that. I remember wrestlin’ him on the ground and hittin’ him a few times, but hell, the shit they said I did to him … no fuckin’ recollection.”
“You went fuckin’ ham, man,” Jeremy says, shaking his head. “Like, remind me never to fuckin’ piss ya off.” He lets out an uneasy laugh.
I wave him off. “Shut up, bro. I’d never fight y’all.”
“Well, that’s a goddamn relief, because you’re a fuckin’ hooligan.”
“What did I do?”
Mac laughs, saying, “You were using these crazy ass palm punches.” He throws a few hands in the air to demonstrate. “Next thing you know, his face is fucked, like flattened cartoon fucked, and cops are storming in.”
“Ah, thank you, Bas Rutten,” I say, smiling. “That’s where I learned the open palm punches from. I’m surprised I actually pulled it out in a fight though. Never have before.” I shrug. “Always wanted to.”
“Well, I guess you can say you have now.” Mac laughs. “Who’s Bas Rutten anyway?” he asks.
Carter answers for me, “He’s a UFC fighter. I’ve seen videos of his. He’s an animal. Dude punches with his palms because it takes away the possibility of, like, rolling a wrist or getting a boxing fracture, or whatever.”
“Yup.” I nod. “And it’s a smaller contact point, so there’s more force behind it. It’s supposed to be effective as fuck.”
Carter laughs, shaking his head. “I’d say that’s a definitive now. He was down for the count about two seconds in.”
“And how long after that did I keep hittin’ him?”
Carter laughs. “About another minute until the cops arrived, I guess. Shit, I was as drunk as you were. Felt like I was in a movie, or something.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah, it was gnarly, bro,” Mac says.
“And why didn’t y’all help me? Pull me off him or somethin’?” I ask, and they look around at each other, none of them speaking.
“We tried,” Carter responds defensively. “Jeremy and I both did. You were having none of it.”
“Well, fuck.” My gaze drifts out the plate glass windows, coated in morning dew.
“What did the lawyer say?” Carter asks, pulling my attention back to the conversation.
“He thinks because the kid used a bottle on me and attacked me first, they really don’t have a case. The only thing I’m really in trouble for is the excessiveness.”
“So, you’re going to be alright then?” Carter asks.
“I think so, man. I’m convinced of it after meetin’ with the lawyer. Just hopin’ for the best and we’ll see what comes of it.” I take a sip of my coffee and then tilt my head, thoughts of Ember crossing my mind. “So, can anyone tell me why Ember ain’t respondin’ to my texts?”
All of their eyes fall on the tabletop. It’s then I know for certain I did something foolish.
“Well, speak up, fuckers. I’d really love to know.”
Mac clears his throat, looking as if he’s searching for the right words. “It was when you started pounding him and after you pushed us off. I guess Ember knows him from back home,” he says, pausing, a look of trepidation crossing his face.
“And?” I ask.
Mac takes a thick swallow. “She tried to pull you off too. I’m pretty sure you thought it was us again and you pushed her away kind of hard.”
“Well, fuck.” I shake my head. “Was it really bad?”
“It wasn’t like overkill or anything,” Mac responds. “But you shoved her pretty good, dude. And she definitely wasn’t happy about it. If I had to guess, that’s probably what she’s pissed about.” He hesitates for a moment, and then adds, “Well, that, and you rearranged her friend’s face.”
I shrug. “I mean, the asshole did bring a bottle to a fist fight.”
“Do you remember him?” Jeremy asks, furrowing his brows. “I mean, from before the other night?”
I nod. “Yeah, I did the moment the fucker attacked me.”
“Well…” Jeremy lets the word linger. “I reckon you taught him two lessons now. But I don’t think he’ll be forgettin’ this last one.”