lights flashing to accompany the throbbing beat. Lainey’s grip on my arm tightens even more, and I worry that this is just too much for her. That the hypothetical was much more reasonable than the reality of this situation. She’s already had a long day, flying home with a baby, and now she’s way outside her comfort zone with this. I don’t think I should have pushed her into this. She can handle the pub just fine, but it took a few times before she was comfortable even there. When she comes to games they generally sit in the box rather than in the regular seats because it’s not as overwhelming, and this . . . well, this is a million times worse than that.
It’s loud, there are people packed into every inch of the dance floor, and it’s slow moving through the throng of bodies toward the stairs that will get us to the second floor. I’m about to explain this to Lainey so she doesn’t start to panic, when all of a sudden the music is eclipsed by the sound of screaming.
Between one breath and the next we’re completely swarmed by Chicago fans. We’ve been having an amazing season so far this year, and publicity has been high, so going out can be an issue—but this is over the top, even for us. I’m assuming it has to do with the flowing alcohol and the celebratory atmosphere.
I attempt to put a protective arm around Lainey’s shoulder to keep her safe, but she’s not attached to my biceps anymore. Instead Violet, Charlene, and Lily form a protective semicircle around her and move her away from the screaming, clamoring fans.
Poppy and Sunny squeeze by me. “We’ve got her, don’t worry.”
As they move through the crowd I catch a glimpse of Lainey, craning to look over her shoulder as the girls usher her away. Her fingers are at her mouth, eyes wide with panic. She says something to one of the girls, face etched with concern, before she’s swallowed by the sea of bodies.
Lance claps me on the shoulder. “It’s okay, Rookie, they’ll take care of her.”
“But she hates crowds. I should’ve fucking known better. We haven’t been in here for more than two minutes.” My phone is in her purse, so I can’t even message her to find out where she is.
“The girls have all been through this before—they’ll manage. Now smile and take some selfies with yer fans.”
Dressed-up women and sweaty guys surround us. Arms wrap around my waist and camera phones flash in my face as more and more people realize there’s something going on that they want to be a part of. People push and shove each other out of the way. Two guys in the middle of the crowd bump chests like they’re thinking about having a go at each other, while the rest of the drunken fans skirt around them.
Alex yells at everyone to calm down and take it easy as the horde of fans continues to grow. Security seems to have finally found their way to the fringe of the ever-expanding crowd, and they move people out of the way, trying to clear the congestion.
Four girls make that weird duck face and snap a million selfies with our group behind them and their flashes on, blinding us all collectively.
I blink through the dots in my vision in time to see paramedics rush by, heading in the same direction the girls went. I have no idea how long we’ve been stuck here, signing napkins and taking pictures.
“What the fuck is going on?” I ask Alex, who’s standing right beside me.
“I dunno.”
“What if something happened to Lainey? What if she’s having a panic attack?” I can feel my own chest tighten at the thought of her having one without me there to help calm her.
“Let me check Violet’s messages.”
Security finally breaks through the crowd and makes a path for us, giving us an out. I try to head in the direction the paramedics went, but I’m too big to get through the crowd without hurting people.
“Shit, shit, shit.” I run my hands through my hair, my own anxiety ratcheting up. I turn and grab Alex by the lapels of his suit jacket. “What if she’s not okay? What if the goddamn paramedics are here for her? This was so fucking stupid. We should’ve stayed in tonight. Now she’s going to be totally overwhelmed. What if she decides this is too much? What if she can’t handle