Page 89 of Courtside

David jumped into action, like maybe if he moved quickly enough he could outrun the panic that clawed its way up his throat. He blew out the candles, and giving Daisy a quick pat on the head, headed out the door.

Less than five minutes later he stood outside of Sage’s apartment. He’d taken the long way, walking through the manicured grass behind her building so that he could look up at her balcony and see if her lights were on. Dread tightened his stomach when they weren't.

But still he pounded on her door.

“Sage,” he called, certain that he was loud enough for her to hear him through the door. “Sage!”

The silence that met him was deafening, drowned out by the roaring in his ears that had reached a volume that had his head pounding.

Now he was afraid. He knocked one more time, even though he knew there would be no answer. As he forced himself to breathe, he pulled out his phone.

“Chuck,” he said as soon as his friend answered. “I…it’s Sage. I can’t find her and —”

“I’m on my way.”

David hung up, dragging himself step by step away from the place where he knew Sage would be safe. Except she wasn’t there and she wasn’t responding, which meant that she could be anywhere, and there was no guarantee of her safety.

Fuck.

Chuck found him sitting woodenly on his couch, phone in one hand and a crushed water bottle in the other.

“Breathe, David,” Chuck said, dropping to his knees in front of him and gripping his shoulder with a firmness that David needed to remind himself that he was alive. David forced his lunges to empty, his exhale harsh. Chuck squeezed him tighter. “I’m sure that she’s fine.”

David’s head was shaking before Chuck finished speaking. “You can’t know that. Don’t say shit like that when I have no idea where she is, and she isn’t answering my calls or my texts.”

“It’s late afternoon,” Chuck said, his voice infuriatingly calm, just like it’d always been when David lost control. “Could she be with friends right now?”

The panic in his throat flared. “Friends,” he started, thinking about Sage, about the evenings they spent together, trying to remember if she mentioned hanging out with other people, if there was —

“Maggie.” David shot to his feet. “We’ve got to find Maggie.”

Chuck frowned. “Maggie?”

David was already shoving his feet into his shoes and grabbing his keys. “The bartender from The Grove. She and Sage are tight.”

“Got it.” David heard Chuck heave out a heavy sigh. “Oh, David,” he said, his voice quiet.

David glanced back at Chuck, who stood looking down at the take-out and the candles and the flowers he’d picked out because the blue matched the suit she’d worn to so many games. The one she looked breathtakingly beautiful in.

Swallowing against the knot in his throat, David rubbed the back of his neck.

“Did you guys have plans?”

David looked up at Chuck, letting out a strained laugh. “I thought we did,” he admitted, before turning to the door. “Let’s go find Maggie.”

* * *

David wove his way through the packed crowd at The Grove, his heart sinking when he realized that none of the three bartenders were Maggie.

“She’s not here,” David said, trying to keep his voice even as he spoke to Chuck.

“Let’s ask him.” Chuck nodded toward a short, wiry man with a shaved head who was currently filling a tray full of pint glasses from one of the taps along the wall behind the bar.

David didn’t think twice about using his body to his advantage, wedging his way forward until his chest rested against the bar.

“Hey,” he called out. The bartender looked up. “We’re looking for Maggie. Any chance you could help us get in touch with her?”

The man looked briefly amused. “Hell no,” he said with a laugh.

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