28
Judge
I sneak off to Lucca’s office as the party is winding down, as the men are leaning drunkenly in their chairs, or shouting loudly, or downing more and more drinks. The waitresses clear the tables and carry the plates to the kitchen. Patrick and Dawn hold each other close, their arms entwined. The music is turned low and sings out quietly over the restaurant.
When I get to his office, he’s leaning back in his chair and scowling. Scowling at nothing in particular. At the door, at the walls, at the posters with the stupid slogans. Those slogans make me smirk. Go and get it, you can do it! It’s absurd. You can only do something if you have some deep driving force. You can only ride if you’re committed to riding. A poster won’t change that.
He flinches when I enter. I hold my hands
