Logan kicks me in the calf under the table. Not hard. But hard enough to draw my attention. “For real—are you okay, man?” I shrug and work to locate an acceptable response as I swallow down the last of my garlic bread. “Okay is a relative term.” “That's a no,” Felix says, bringing over the steaming pan of lasagna. His oven mitts look like a gift from his girlfriend, Gracie, who’s a professional cellist. The relationship is fairly new, which means Felix has been smiling more. A lot more. He’s also held almost every team scoreless for the last few weeks with his save percentage up to .920, so
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