Chapter 5

Inhale, exhale. Don’t miss. Whatever you do, don’t miss. She makes me nervous, too. I won’t tell her that, but I’d bet my bottom dollar that she knows already. Don’t miss. You got this. I hit the cue just hard enough and the eight ball whirls and then sinks into the pocket.

As we exchange our own signs of good sportsmanship, I imagine myself on the table again. I gloat, preen, accept Layla’s gracious defeat.

Layla buys me a beer. As we abandon the table and two new girls begin a game, I think that they must be relieved that I ended Layla’s reign over the pool table for the time being. Layla and I find a secluded bar table and sit, sipping our drinks and making eyes as we talk. My heart is pounding out of my chest but I’m breathing deeply.

“You know,” she remarks thoughtfully, tilting her head and looking at me, “I’m sorry we didn’t get to know each other better in college.”

I smile, blush, and praise Buddha that the lights are dim enough that she can’t see how red my face is.