Ryan Hunter

on the couch between Frederickson and a guy whose real name I didn’t know but who we all called Sylvester.
    Alex tabbed the stack of dollar notes on the table with the tip of his cue at. “Twenty-five from each.”
    “I’ll play the winner.” I didn’t have to play for money to stock up my bank account, but it was way more fun playing with the guys if they had the right incentive. For one,  they didn’t play pool like sissies then.
    It wasn’t easy to tell who was the better player, but this time Justin came out as the winner, because Alex holed the black eight early.
    “Fifty are in the pot,” Justin said to me with a wide sneer. “I want to see your money if you want to play.”
    I pulled two twenties and a ten from my wallet and placed them on Justin’s prize money. “I’m in.”
    Alex passed me the cue, and I chalked it while someone else set up the balls for us. Because I’d only just come in, I got to shoot first. Number twelve ended in the left corner pocket, which left Justin with the solids and me with the stripes. It was a fast game. In only four turns I had dumped most of my balls. Only the orange and white ball with the number thirteen was left, and I holed it into a corner pocket with a spectacular shot over three cushions. Now just the black eight, and victory would be mine.
    A confident smirk at Justin made the guy a little nervous. “Come on, Ryan, give a friend a chance. You can’t hole the ball just yet,” he whined.
    That didn’t irritate me. “What’s your problem, Justin? Afraid, your Mama’s going to find out you’re playing for money?” I leaned forward, focusing on the black ball, measuring my final shot.
    “My Mama doesn’t give a damn. But I really, really need this Spiderman comic. It’s an original.”
    Ah right. If it wasn’t about BMXing or girls, with Justin it was always comics. He hoarded them like squirrels hoarded nuts, and I couldn’t believe how much he was willing to spend on those books when his pocket money for a year was what I got in a month.
    He had me feeling bad for him…almost . Heck, this was a guy-thing, and I couldn’t lose, just to make a friend happy. When you were eighteen, it was all about rep.
    I positioned the cue in a perfect line to the white ball and the black eight. Then I moved the cue subtly back, getting ready to knock the ball into the pocket. I was so close to winning this game. Only, I made the mistake to look up for a second and froze.
    For an immeasurable moment, I forgot to breathe. How dare she come in here and ruin this game for me? Ah God , how dare she look so good, dammit? It only took a second for the others to realize something went wrong, and they all turned to find my personal downfall standing in the doorway.
    Liza grimaced and played uncomfortably with the hem of her top. “Is something wrong?”
    Everything was wrong . It always was with me when this girl was anywhere near. The day I had first seen Liza Matthews, I had tripped over the soccer ball and landed face first in the dirt. She always made me forget about anything else around me. And now, she’d cost me a fair sum if she didn’t turn around and walk out so I could get my head back in the game.
    No such luck. Justin made sure of that. He rushed to her side, the grin of victory sitting fat on his face. “You just saved my life, hun.”
    Liza seemed a little surprised when Justin laid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her farther into the room where the warm light from above played out the various shades of brown in her hair. For one, I wanted to kick my best friend’s ass at this moment, because he knew I’d screw up with Liza in this room and he just used that to his advantage. And secondly I wanted to kick is ass, because he simply dared to lay his fucking arm around my girl. He was going to pay for both later.
    “Ah… yes,” Liza said and looked from Justin to me. “And how so?”
    She had no idea. That was one of the things I liked about her most—that she always was so sweetly unaware of everything. Especially of the crap that was just about to fall on my head.
    “He can’t play when someone is watching him ,” Justin stated the obvious. “Totally screws up then.”
    Her brows knitted together. “But you all are watching him.”
    The way she spoke to everybody else but looked only at me made me grin.
    “Yeah, but we’re not girls.” That was Alex from the back of the room, and he certainly enjoyed selling me out. Bloody