Taken from the March 3, 2009 print of The New York Times.
With basketball as the backdrop--projected on a gloriously oversized drop-screen that drew an elbow-to-elbow crowd during March Madness--Ryan watched Ellie stand uncomfortably alone in front of the game, tall and out of place. Her height drew a few moans and a "Move yer big dome!" from the crowd. But it was too packed, and she couldn't move. He watched as her beer sloshed back and forth with people moving and cheering and tripping for the bar. He smiled. It was the Ellie he loved, always a little out of place. She was the only person not facing the screen. She faced the door, where she looked for Ryan, but he was hidden behind a beer tap, sitting on a low stool.
"Reconciliation at the Citadel?" he said again, shaking his head and chuckling. Why he thought their first meeting since the fight should be held at The Citadel on the night of "The Game" was beyond him. He was never into college basketball. On any other night, The Citadel was a quiet bar. And it was Ellie's favorite.
Ryan bottoms-upped the remainder of his beer and began to move into Ellie's view. She spotted him quickly. Her face reddened and she turned away for a moment as if not to see him, as if still looking. But then she looked back. It was that look she gave when she knew, and he knew. It was warm, and it made him smile.
He moved toward her and reached for her hand over six short girls dressed in Duke cheerleading uniforms. She handed her beer to a stranger on her right, who drunkenly accepted and cheered. Ellie reached back for Ryan's hand, and gave a wry smile that made his ears burn. He pulled her close.
"Let's get out of here," she said. Ryan led the way.
from The New York Times
