PACK: Damn. Chirp attempt 2. You dropped the towels because you’re bad at standing up.
I tried not to laugh. Big fail.
NICO: I will accept that one. Barely.
PACK: Progress. I’ll take it.
I started typing, deleting, and typing again. Every version circled back to the same thing:Fuck what happened in Buffalo. Let’s fix this.But I couldn’t send that. Not yet.
While I stared at the screen, the phone chimed again.
PACK: You laughing today?
I tossed a detergent pod in with the towels and pressed start. That hadn’t been a chirp. It was a check-in, and I wasn’t going to lie.
NICO: Yeah. More than I have for a while.
Three dots appeared and danced. Then they disappeared, and it was at least thirty seconds before they came back.
PACK: Good. That helps.
I waited for a follow-up, but none came.
NICO: How’s the circus over there?
The Warriors had won both games in Buffalo but lost the next two in Montreal, so the series was tied 2–2. With four wins needed to take the championship, the city of Buffalo and its team had to be feeling a little nuts.
PACK: It was crazy up there. Lynx fans are brutal. Someone threw a foam middle finger at Harpy over the glass. We need a win tomorrow, so we’re all pretending to be calm.
NICO: You pretending better than last week?
Fuck me. Why did I say that?
PACK: A little. Talking to you helps.
I swallowed hard, then typed one word.
NICO: Same.
PACK: Doorbell. Hold on.
The washer started thumping, so I rearranged the towels inside. My hands were shaking by the time my phone beeped again.
PACK: Okay, emergency time-out.
My stomach tightened. Not a clench, but a definite knot.
NICO: Define emergency.
PACK: Holky and Dog are here with several others. They’re hyper as shit. Team bonding situation.
PACK: You know, snacks, bad ideas, zero respect for personal space. Maybe a nervous breakdown for me.
I laughed louder than I had since… well, a few minutes earlier.
NICO: Thoughts and prayers.
PACK: I need that.
