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"Garrett can cover this, right?" Sadie whispered to Vienna. "They're playing for a shit ton of money."

"Kim says he can," Vienna quietly responded, "but you and I are on the same wavelength. Garrett didn't go out much while he lived in Orlando, so maybe he's got the cash. I swear to God, if he got into some shady shit down there, I'm gonna kick his ass. He needs to end this soon, though. His wrist is about to go."

Sadie mentally agreed with Vienna. Over the last few games, Garrett's shot quality had degraded. The sound of ripping Velcro filled the bar as he constantly readjusted and tightened the splint around his right hand. Danny had clawed his way back, winning the last race to five to tie Garrett. Now, with both men tied at four in their current race, Danny had a chance to take the overall lead for the first time since their initial run of games.

Danny had been lining up a shot on the 7 ball. Before shooting, however, he stood up and keenly studied the table. A slow, confident nod followed as he stepped around the table and lined up from a different angle. Instead of sending the 7 ball into a side pocket, he careened it off the rail. It bounced off and impacted against the 9 ball, which rolled into the far corner pocket and, after a moment where Sadie held her breath, slowly dropped in.

"Thank Christ," Danny exclaimed once Serena declared him the winner. "I swear, Scarecrow, you are the luckiest son-of-a-bitch I've ever met. Wire the money to Kim by noon tomorrow, or else I'm going to come looking for you." He motioned to Tyler and Amy. "Come on, let's get the fuck out of here..."

"One more game."

Danny turned to face Garrett even as Tyler rolled his eyes. "One more game," Garrett repeated. "It's getting late and I have to work tomorrow, so no race to five, no more of this back and forth. We shoot it all. You and me heads up for..." He looked towards the ceiling as he crunched the numbers in his head. "...yeah, you and me, heads up for seventy-five thousand. Winner walks away with everything."

"No way," Tyler said before Danny could say anything. "No way. Danny, don't even think about it. That's a stupid decision. You won. Do you hear me? You won. You told me this is when you would walk away. You have his money and your shoulder. So walk away."

Danny nodded. "You see West? This is what a best friend does - they keep you from making mistakes. Enjoy living the rest of your life knowing that even a decade out from high school you're still my bitch."

"Yeah," Garrett called out to a departing Danny, "just like high school. You knock me down but you never knock me out."

Danny froze in mid-step. Slowly, he turned to look over his shoulder. With confidence neither Sadie nor anyone else at the high top expected, Garrett took a step towards Danny. "You've always gone out of your way to torture me. I've seen you detour down a hallway between classes just to shove the books out of my hand. You had Joshua Smith break into my car so you could replace my windshield wiper fluid with cooking oil. Oh, and let's not forget the time you followed me from Mile High Pastries to my house on Granite Way to kick my ass just because you saw me smiling."

It was Garrett's turn to stab a finger at Danny. "Every time I got back up. Every time you shoved me, bullied me, I ended up back on my feet. Sometimes I did it myself, sometimes I needed the help of my friends, and I sure as hell didn't end up anywhere close to being a functional adult, but at the end of the day I'm still standing." He gave a high, barking mocking laugh. "I don't know why I was ever afraid of you. You're as much of a loser as I am."

Danny tore his arm away from Tyler and stalked up to Garrett. "I'm Danny fucking Eastman. I'm a god compared to you. I'm stronger than you, faster than you, richer than you, I've nailed tail hotter than you've ever imagined, and someday I'm going to be in the damn Hall of Fame. You're just a pathetic loser who's working at a candy store." Danny gently but firmly poked Garrett in the chest. "Loser." He then tapped his breastbone. "Winner."

"Winner. Right. Is that why you always get bounced in the first round?"

Sadie thought Danny was going to punch Garrett as he raised his hand. "I've got a pair of championships," Danny snarled, holding up two fingers. "You don't get those by losing in the first round, asshole."

"College championships," Garrett corrected. "Hey," he quickly added, "that's damn impressive. You were a great player at North Carolina. But in the pros, you've made the playoffs twice in six years, and both times got swept right out the gate. Maybe you peaked in college. And if that's the case... well, then you're not Danny fucking Eastman. You're Christian fucking Laettner."

What instantly crossed Danny's face at that moment was pure, utter hatred of a kind Sadie had never seen before in her life. "Oh," Garrett smirked, "did I stutter? You got all quiet and shit. About a minute ago you were talking smack like it was Game 7 of the playoffs up in this motherfucker, now of a sudden you're as quiet as a church."

It was obvious Danny was using every iota of self-control not to simply punch Garrett in the face. "Fine," he snorted derisively, "one more game."

Garrett glanced at Serena. "Rack 'em."

"Who the fuck is Christian Laettner?" Vienna asked as Serena set up for the final game. "I've never seen Danny that pissed in my life."

"Laettner played basketball for Duke University in the early '90s," Brenda said from her end of the high top. "He won back-to-back college championships and an Olympic gold medal but he never really clicked when he got to the pros. Duke and North Carolina are like the Hatfields and the McCoys when it comes to college basketball. They LOATHE each other. Danny always wanted to play for North Carolina so he grew up hating Laettner anyway, but he also saw him as a cautionary tale. Any time Danny talked about wasting his talents, he was referring to Laettner."