Doctor-Patient Confidentiality: New Adult Enemies-to-Lovers Romance

Chapter Fifty-Three

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I slide the balcony door open once again, but as soon as I do my footsteps are halted by the view in front of me. My eyes go wide as I'm immediately greeted by the sight and and sound of utter chaos.

All hell has literally broken loose.

The football and basketball team members are getting into it, viciously tackling and lunging at each other for some reason unknown to me.

My eyes dart around as surprise and confusion rob me of my ability to speak, and for several seconds, I can do little else but watch a blur of several large fists swinging and flying all over the place as the players exchange blows and punches.

What the fuck?!

Out of nowhere, a player stumbles backwards and almost falls on me, and immediately, my panic and survival instincts kick in and I dodge his large frame with a quickness, and he comes tumbling down on the threshold of the balcony door beside me.

My confusion quickly dissipates to give way for logic, and there's only one thought that comes to my mind; Trixie.

Oh, my God, I hope she's not hurt.

I quickly step around the large player's body and walk back into the house, looking around frantically, trying to spot her amidst the rowdiness and chaos. My heart pounds in my chest as I continue to dodge several angry men who are almost twice my size.

Thank God it doesn't take long to find her, and she appears to be fine. Actually, she seems to be enjoying the fight. I can't stop myself from huffing incredulously. Here I was worried that she'd gotten squashed between some crazed players, yet here she is with her eyes wide and a smile on her face, happily spectating with a detached hookah pipe in her hands.

She really is unbelievable sometimes.

I hastily pull her away from the midst of the chaos, shuffling her over to a somewhat safe corner, and for the time being, we can only watch as grown men try to gut each other.

All the while, tempers continue to flare, girls continue to scream and yell, the alcohol and weed and God knows what else kicks in, and the fight escalates further. And the brawl only spreads as their respective teammates come to their aid.

I'm confused and shocked as hell, and I'm sure the incredulous look on my face let's Trixie know that, too. I look over to her, and I can't believe the bitch is giggling in her drunken stupor, clearly excited about the lunacy that's going on. I want to ask her what happened, but I figure it doesn't even matter at this point. Things are already so far out of control.

From what Trixie's told me in the past, there's always been this underlying tension between the football and basketball teams, so I suppose the brawl would have happened at some point, regardless of the catalyst. Besides, when you mix a whole lot of alcohol with a whole lot of testosterone and inflated egos, something's bound to go wrong. Still, I'm not sticking around to find out how this Halloween-bash-turned-brawl pans out.

I grab Trixie's arm and start pulling her toward the main door. "We're leaving," I say, not paying any mind to her drunken protests.

"Oh my God, Roni, that's Jamie Wrighton!" she exclaims abruptly, but the words leave her lips in a sluggish slur, mirroring her intoxicated little body. "He came!" she says, sounding a little too happy about seeing someone she doesn't actually even know.