It was a cold walk from Lewis' car to the lounge. Winter seemed to be stepping on Fall's toes. People stood on the sidewalks, huddled in groups talking outside of a hot dog joint and coffee shop across the street. They were mainly just post-punk kids, with their dirty, greasy hair and skinny jeans, pretending their rebellion counted against mother nature.
Someone pulled up in their car, right in front of the Hookah Lounge. A kid, probably no older than eighteen, hopped out and grabbed the door to the lounge as the car drove away. Lewis snuck in behind the kid.
Inside the lounge the smell of smoke was permanently in the air. Loud hip-hop bass bumped from speakers in the ceiling. Long, slow strains of hookah smoke wound lazily out of the mouths of a group next to the door. They were sitting on plush couches and swivel chairs around a table with three large hookahs. People talked and laughed over the music. The owner sat at the bar towards the back, staring at a wall-mounted flat screen TV.
Lewis was supposed to meet some friends that night. For a minute he stood at the door, staring around the club. The greeter was just asking him where he'd like to sit when Lewis spotted his friends. They were around a table near the bar. One of his friends, Hewett Vekeraam, stood up and waved at Lewis. Hewett was extremely tall, nearly six and a half feet to be exact. He had dark, brown hair, nearly black, with bright blue eyes.
Also at the table were Hewett's girlfriend, Karen Linderhill, Kyle Brown, Hewett's roommate, and Kyle's girlfriend, Lisa Phillips.
They had already ordered two hookahs so Lewis asked the waitress for a latte. The waitress walked away, and as soon as she did, Hewett leaned forward and asked, "So what took you so long?"
Lewis smirked, "You wouldn't believe if I told you."
"Try us," quipped Lisa.
Lewis recounted the entire event that had just happened in the gym locker rooms.
"And you didn't help him?" both women exclaimed in unison.
"Yo, fuck that," Hewett said. "If I meet Brent or Turk, I'll fuck them up!"
"I'm kind of with the women," said Kyle, "I'm surprised you didn't help him."
"Dude, they were as big as cavemen," Lewis said. "It would have been like me versus two giants. I wouldn't stand a chance."
"I'm sure my man called Campus Safety," Hewett said in Lewis' defense.
The other three looked at Lewis to see his response. Lewis winced.
"Well... I, uh. I..."
"What?"
"Why not?"
"Great! This Brad kid is probably dead now," Karen huffed, sitting back in the couch.
"They're not going kill anyone. That would be stupid," Lewis said. "You'd never get away with it at Calvin. There are cameras everywhere."
Everyone stopped talking for a while. Lewis could tell that Kyle, Lisa, and Karen were obviously disappointed in him. Hewett just grinned sheepishly. The waitress came back with Lewis' latte and set it down on the table. Lewis thanked her. She smiled fakely and walked away.
Lewis was watching the TV above the bar when Kyle got his attention.
"What did you say 'Brent' looked like?"
"Uh," Lewis turned back towards Kyle, "he was about as big as a house, with a black faux-hawk, and dressed in black sportswear."
Kyle nodded towards the door.
"You might want to see who just came in."
The whole group turned to see three men walk into the lounge: Brent, Turk, and Brad.
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