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"Well I'm not going to be left out of the fun," Brenda laughed as she slid from her chair. "This is all my fault anyway." The smile fell from Garrett's face as Brenda approached him, replaced by hesitant nervousness. There was a slight hitch in the young man's breathing as Brenda laid her hands on his chest before leaning in to softly kiss him. It wasn't flirty, or reassuring, or passionate. It was a simple, basic, kiss, which made it all the sweeter even as it sent a twinge of jealousy up Sadie's spine.

"Don't say this was your fault," she heard Garrett tell Brenda. "You were the first step along a long and winding road with more improbable moments than I can count."

"Go finish this then," Brenda told him as she ran a hand through his messy brown hair. "Finish this and start being Garrett's Garrett."

"For the record, I'm not allowed to kiss the players," Serena smirked as Garrett walked up to the table. He laughed while beginning to chalk up. Across the table, Danny had skipped past staring daggers at Garrett. If looks could kill, thought Sadie, Garrett's blood and guts would be sprayed all over the lounge from the shotgun glare Danny was giving him. Garrett didn't appear to notice, however. Once Serena finished racking he bent over the edge of the table to place the cue ball.

"There it is," Sadie heard Michelle murmur as Garrett lined up his shot before breaking the nine-ball diamond apart. A sigh of relief fell over the high top as the 4 ball banked off another ball before dropping into a pocket. After studying the table for a moment Garrett set up his next shot. This time he drove the cue ball into the 1, sending it between two other balls to clip the 9 ball and drop it into a corner pocket, winning the game in two shots.

Garrett's nod of approval was directed towards himself as a smattering of light applause came from the gathered crowd. Even Serena looked impressed as she quickly collected the balls to rerack them. Across the table, Danny hadn't moved. The basketball player was as still as a statue, painting Garrett with the same murderous expression that he had ever since play resumed. As he stepped around the table to break for the first time that night never took his eyes off of Garrett who, as best Sadie could tell, was looking anywhere except at his opponent.

After rolling his shoulder several times, Danny drove his pool stick forward with the same anger. The diamond exploded, sending balls across the table and somehow dropping one of them on the break. His next shot, however, had too much speed on it and caused the 1 ball to careen off the side of the rail before it could fall into the side pocket. Cursing, Danny watched Garrett with the same furious anger as he dropped several more balls before missing, only for Danny to miss during his turn. "Fuck," Danny spat as Garrett eventually sunk the 9 ball to make it three games to two. "How are you getting this fucking lucky!"

Garrett didn't respond. He didn't even look at Danny, which caused him to fume further. Once again his break was angry. The crack of the cue ball sounded like a gunshot as Danny failed to sink a shot. With the balls spread over the table, however, Garrett couldn't get a good shot on the 1, but neither could Danny on his turn. The pair traded the lead for several turns before

Garrett finally sank the 9 ball to take his third game. As the two men headed back to their respective friends for the five-minute intermission, Sadie swore Danny's pool cue was going to snap under the pressure he was exuding on it at the sight of his opponent clawing his way back.

X X X X X

"How is he fucking doing this?" Danny chugged his glass of ice water and slammed it down on the table. Flecks of ice flew from the glass at the impact. "I was wiping the floor with him and the second West swaps spit with half our graduating class he starts winning? Motherfucker. I need a fucking drink."

"No you don't," Tyler shot back. "You need to take a breath and focus, Danny. You're ten seconds away from going on tilt and you know it. Take advantage of this time out and get your mind right."

Danny took a deep breath before hissing, "I know, I know. Just, that fucker's never been good at anything in his life! There's no way he should be beating me, especially with his hand in a fucking splint." He glanced over at the other side of the bar. West had the splint off and was slowly flexing his fingers while Bedford held a bag of ice against his wrist. "I've been playing since I was fifteen! Did the Polley's have a pool table and he spent all his time practicing when he wasn't beating off?"

"What I do know is that he can play, and so can you." Tyler stepped around the high top so he was standing in front of his friend. "You're tied. You win two more and this whole thing is dead and buried in your favor."

"Another ice water for Danny," Amy asked the waitress who was passing by before turning to Danny. "Tyler's right." She didn't notice the withering glare Tyler was giving her as she remarked, "You can still put Garrett in his place. I don't know anything about basketball or sports, but I know people. He's still afraid of you. You had him rattled those first three games until he played Seven Minutes in Heaven with his little stable of hoes. Get back in his head and you got him."

Danny nodded, followed by Tyler a moment later. "Yeah. Yeah," Tyler agreed, "that makes sense. He hasn't looked you in the eyes. Ever since he started winning he hasn't looked you in the eyes."