yolo (14 page)

She walked down the side of the pool hall opposite the bar. The pool tables were lined up the length of the right side of the place, and the bar ran down the left side. After she made a lap around the pool tables without seeing Liz or Chestnut, she joined Brandon and Ana at the bar.

Brandon was swigging a Budweiser. “Did you see them?” he asked.

“Nope,” said Emily. “Did they check your ID?”

Brandon cocked his head with a smirk. “Cheers,” he said, holding up his beer bottle and taking a big gulp.

Ana turned around from the bar, holding a Cosmo. “So, what's the plan now?” she asked.

“This is no fair!” Emily said. “Why do I always have to be the one who drives?”

“Oh, you can have just one,” said Ana.

“No. No, I cannot,” said Emily. “And the plan is that we wait right here and watch the door until seven. Then we are going to the party.”

Brandon surveyed the pool tables around the room. “I dunno, Em. Looks like we may already be at the party.”

“No,
Brans
, we are not.”

“You know what would be fun?” said Brandon with a sly grin. “Playing a little pool while we wait.”

“Yes!” Ana jumped off the barstool.

Emily sighed. “Fine. Go for it. I'm going to get a Coke and sit right here to watch the door. Check in with you in fifteen minutes?”

“Deal,” Brandon said.

“Have a
real
drink,” Ana said. “It'll help you lighten up.”

“No dice,” said Emily. “Fifteen minutes. Come back and check in.”

“Fine,” said Ana.

“You ready for me to take you to Pool School?” Brandon asked her.

“You're not taking me
anywhere
, white boy.” Ana's eyes flashed a challenge.

“Care to make it interesting?” Brandon asked.

“Bring it,” said Ana. She spun on her heel, flipped her hair, and turned every head in the room as she walked from the bar to an empty pool table.

“Sounds like you're the commander in chief.”

Emily turned to the guy sitting on the barstool to her right and suddenly couldn't make her mouth work to talk. The guy's dark hair was cropped close on the sides and longish on top, but not fussy, sort of swept up and messy. His complexion was tanned, like he spent time outside but not at the tanning salon. His eyes were dark, too, and held the spark of a joke—only she'd forgotten what he said now.

“Excuse me?” she asked, a nervous smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Just sounds like you're calling the shots with those two,” he said. Then he smiled, and Emily thought she might fall of her stool. His smile was a little crooked, his jaw chiseled out of stone, and there was a little dent in his chin that she couldn't stop staring at. She kept imagining running her tongue over it.

Pull it together,
she told herself.
He's
talking
to you.

She laughed a little and tried to marshal the power of speech. “Yeah,” she said. “I guess I am.”

“You don't sound too enthused about being in charge,” he said. Something about the way he said it surprised Emily. It wasn't like he was just making small talk with somebody he'd met thirty seconds ago. He actually seemed to care how she felt about this.

Emily shrugged. “Yeah, it's . . . been a hard day.”

He polished off a beer. “I get it,” he said. “What are you drinking?”

“Nothing yet,” she said. “Diet Coke?”

He nodded, and Emily was relieved when he didn't give her a hard time, just waved down the bartender and got her a soda.

“Thanks,” she said.

“You're welcome. I'm Chris, by the way.”

“Emily.” She squeezed the lime into her Diet and took a sip from the straw.

“So, how'd you get saddled with the being in charge?”

“We're on our way to a party,” she explained. “A whole weekend, really. Just drove up today. I guess we just sort of fall into these roles.” Emily braced herself. This is where the cute guy who barely knew her told her to lighten up and have some fun, to let go and live a little.

Instead, Chris just nodded. “It suits you.”

An involuntary look of surprise crossed her face. “Really?”

“Don't people tell you that?” he asked.

Emily laughed. “Never. All I hear is how I'm too uptight and need to loosen up.”

Chris shook his head. “I disagree.”

“You don't really know me, though,” Emily said.

Chris shrugged. “True. But I know me. And I like a woman who knows what she wants and doesn't need someone else's approval to get it.”

When he said those words, Emily had the sensation that a something had broken free inside of her. She smiled at Chris. “That might be the nicest thing a guy has said to me in a long time.”

Chris smiled back. “That just tells me that you've been hanging out with the wrong guys.”

Emily laughed. “And what about now?”

Chris raised his bottle of Heineken. “Now you're hanging out with the right ones.”

After Chris ordered another beer, Emily told him she needed to check in with her friends.

“Need company?”

“They're just right there,” Emily said, pointing.

“I know. I just don't think you should go by yourself.”

“Because . . . it's . . . dangerous?” she asked. They might've been in a pool hall, but none of the people seemed particularly deadly. Especially considering the rest of her day.

“No.” Chris looked her straight in the eyes. “Because I'll miss you.”

This answer delighted Emily, but she tried not to smile because she didn't want to appear to be
too
delighted. She didn't even know this guy. No matter how nice he seemed, he was just a momentary acquaintance. “Is that what you tell all the girls?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

Chris looked over both shoulders, scanning the room, then turned back to her. “You're the only woman under thirty-five in this place. I don't tell the rest of these people anything.”

Emily laughed. “Fine. Come with me.”

They found Brandon beating the pants off a guy at what was apparently a low-stakes table in the corner.

“What does low-stakes mean?” Emily asked.

“They've only got twenty dollars riding on this game,” Ana explained.

“Wait, they're
betting
on this game?” Emily couldn't believe it. “I mean, Brandon is trying to make money?”

“Oh, he's not
trying
,” said Ana. “He's succeeding. He's up to forty already. This will be sixty.”

As she said that, Emily watched as Brandon sunk the last two balls on the table with a behind-the-back shot that looked like a move that only worked in a movie. Ana jumped up and down and ran over and hugged him.

“We're not supposed to think they're . . . together?” Chris asked Emily.

Emily shrugged. “It's a developing thing.”

“Sounds like there's a story.”

She looked at Chris. “Isn't there always?” She motioned to her friends. “In their case, they're both friends of mine who started dating, and then crashed and burned. Things seem to be rekindling today, though.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

“I wasn't for it at first,” Emily admitted. “But now . . . I wonder if maybe the time apart has given them some perspective. Maybe they'd actually be good together, you know?”

“Well, if they're both friends with you, they've got to have great taste.”

Emily turned to Chris again and allowed herself to give him a smile this time.

“You know, you should get your friend to play that table.” Chris pointed to another corner. “He's good.
Really
good, considering the types that hang out around here.”

After Emily had introduced Chris and Brandon, Chris explained the high-stakes table and, without much effort, convinced Brandon to give it a shot. The buy-in was five hundred and Brandon was about to bow out, saying he didn't have that much cash on him, when Ana pulled a wad of bills out of her pocket. Emily and Brandon both stared at her in shock, but she just shrugged.

Brandon's first game went by quickly. His opponent seemed to be loaded, but completely without skill. The second game was against the same player, so in no time at all, Brandon was up a thousand dollars and a crowd had formed around the table to see the new guy, and people had lined up to play him.

“So how'd your friend get this good?” Chris asked.

“His dad,” Emily said. “I think they used to play when he was younger. I had no idea he was this good, though.”

“Everyone's full of surprises,” Chris muttered.

Emily glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, wondering what sorts of surprises he might have. Not that she cared. It wouldn't be long before they parted ways forever.

It wasn't long before Brandon had cleared twenty-five hundred. It seemed like people in this town weren't hurting
for cash—farming was apparently more lucrative than Emily could've imagined—and everyone seemed more enamored by Brandon's skill than hurt by their losses. A few of the female patrons were enamored enough to try to slip in next to Brandon to give him a good-luck kiss before shots, but Ana was pretty quick to shut down each and every one of the women, and Brandon didn't seem to mind one bit.

Everything seemed to be going pretty smoothly until there was some commotion on the other side of the pool hall. Emily didn't think anything of it at first, and Chris said that someone was probably just stumbling from one too many beers, but when Emily glanced at Ana and saw her friend's wide-eyed stare, she quickly turned to look.

Big Dog, along with his henchmen Ruff and Scrappy, was standing by the door, looking around. Looking for
them
.

Emily immediately ducked behind Chris, and then behind the pool table. She quickly crouch-waddled her way to Ana and pulled the girl down behind her.

“They found us,” Ana hissed. “We're
so
dead.”

“How'd they even know we were here?” Emily wasn't sure why she was asking Ana this. Neither of them would know the answer. It barely made any sense . . . but most of the day made little sense, so they should've assumed his would happen.

“Hey there.” Chris was suddenly crouched next to them, grinning. “Someone loose a contact lens? Or maybe an earring?”

“This is
so
much worse,
mano
,” Ana said, shaking her head

Emily put her hand back over Ana's mouth. “Shh!” She
turned to Chris, keeping her hand in place on Ana's mouth. “There's no way to explain all of this, but some guys are looking for us.”

“Like ex-boyfriends?” Chris asked.

“Like drug dealers we ripped off.” Emily couldn't believe she'd just said this out loud, but there was no other choice. She felt her heart sink. She wouldn't be getting Chris's number, that much was certain.

Chris frowned. “Wait. You mean
Stanley
?”

“Does
everyone
know this guy?” Emily asked.

“Hang on.” Chris stood up again, slipping into the crowd of people who were cheering Brandon on. Brandon still hadn't realized that anything strange was going on, and all of his focus was centered on the pool table and his rapidly thickening wallet.

Chris returned a moment later and said, “They're making their way down the bar, asking around. I don't think they've seen you yet.”

“They think Brandon's name is Chestnut,” said Emily. “And they think I'm a girl named Liz.”

“I really want to know why, but let's discuss at a later time, shall we?” Chris reached over and grabbed a pool cue off the wall. With one well-aimed move he waved it under the table and smacked Brandon in the shin on the other side. Brandon yelped “Ow!” and was immediately on all fours, his head appearing under the table.

“Hey!” he said, frowning at Emily, Chris, and Ana. “I was
wondering where you guys went. Did you hit me?” People started attempting to pull Brandon up so he could take his next shot. “Hang on! Hang on a minute!” he shouted up at them. He looked back at Emily. “I have to go.”

“BIG DOG.” Emily hissed under the table, pointing toward the bar.

Brandon's eyes went wide.
“Shit.”
He crawled on all fours under the table to where they were. “What do we do?”

Chris jabbed a thumb behind him. “There's a back door by the bathrooms. Let's make a break on ‘three,' okay?”

Everybody nodded. Chris counted. They stood up.

Emily realized immediately that they should have either (a) stayed down and crawled to the bathroom, or (b) spaced out, standing up one at a time. As it was, they'd all popped up like a barbershop quartet, immediately turning every head toward them, including Scrappy, who was three tables over. For the first time ever, they heard Scrappy speak:

“HEY!”

Big Dog and Ruff spun around from their search at the bar, and Ruff leaped into action, immediately jumping chairs and pool tables to get to them.

“Get them!” Big Dog shouted.

Chris grabbed Emily's hand and started pulling her toward the bathroom, leaving Emily just a second to grab Ana, who was already holding on to Brandon. The four of them stumbled and shoved their way to the back of the pool hall and were quickly engulfed by the large crowd that had
accumulated to watch Brandon's billiard game, which kept Ruff and Big Dog at bay.

“Go! Go! Go!” Brandon shouted as they plowed through the lines at the bathrooms and the pool hall turned into an arena, with fights breaking out in every corner because of the pushing and shoving that was happening.

At the back doors Emily looked back to see that Ruff and Scrappy were both involved in pretty big fights, which they seemed to be losing, and Big Dog was being held down on a pool table as he kicked and screamed to be released immediately. She couldn't help but let out a laugh of joy when she saw the perfect scene before her.