Smiling, he turned back to the game.
On the other side of the room, Cathy Kennessy sipped on her soda subconsciously. She wasn’t really paying attention to the game. She was watching Mike. Very intently. The way he moved with his large, square shoulders and tall frame. The way shocks of his blonde hair fell over his brow, touching his sky blue eyes in places. The way his freckles dotted his cheeks. And his arms, she couldn’t forget his arms. Those large, muscular arms that he used to pick her up and spin her around and hold her when she was cold.
From across the room, Grendel watched Cathy from the bar, smirking to himself. He was wearing a ratty button-down shirt as a coat over his tee shirt, the sleeves of which extended well over his hands, absorbing moisture from the bar into their tattered fibers.
He took one last swig of cola from his glass, feeling it sizzle as tiny flickers of it connected with his cheeks. He took notice of the waitress as she wiped a ring of condensation from his glass away even as he picked it up, throwing her a wink. She rolled her eyes at him.
Wiping the pop from his face, he started across the room.
He popped up next to Cathy, producing a smile so large it made his ears wiggle.
“Great music, huh?” he said cheerfully, looking her up and down.
She turned to him, glancing at his large, innocent eyes for a moment. His bald head and his attempt to grow scruff along the sides of his face and chin made him look just a little silly, enough to make her laugh whenever she saw him.
She stopped for a second to acknowledge the very music he was talking about. She had been so engrossed in watching her boyfriend that she had barely even noticed it. They were a local band called Ragnarok, playing their own rendition of Superman’s Dead by Our Lady Peace. It was good, but not as good as the original and definitely not as good as the band’s own music.
She gave Grendel a little nod.
This was how it always was. She had her outside image, she attended the games, listened to the music, put on the face. But all she really cared about was her boyfriend and her friends. Friends like Sara and Xander.
Poor Xander.
She called him that so much that some of the juniors had actually started to believe it was his name. She’d always thought he and Sara were perfect for one another, but Sara had, like, serial boyfriends. She went through them like popcorn. Cathy always warned her that she would eventually hit a kernel and get a bad one, or she’d pass over a really good one.
“So, what’s going on?” Grendel asked, leaning against the counter next to her. He followed her gaze until he was watching the game as well.
“Not much,” she said, an evil smirk spreading across her lips. “Mike’s kicking Jamie’s ass.”
Grendel laughed. “What else is new? Jamie’s about as good at pool as he is at football.”
“That why he’s captain and you didn’t make the team?” she poised playfully, raising an eyebrow in his direction. She turned away from Mike for the first time since the conversation began.
“Hey, I just couldn’t take the politics of the game, is all.”
“How is a bunch of testosterone crazed idiots running around and slamming into each other wearing glorified coconut shells and pouring Gatorade over each other political?”
“I see no differences between what you just said and what goes on in government.” He paused. “Except football players usually have more going on for them upstairs than your average president.”
Across the room, Jamie finally parted with his jacket, laying it on a hanger near him. He leaned in for his shot as Mike, Cathy and now Grendel all watched. He tried to get the seven ball in the side pocket with an easy straight shot, but the table was old and the cloth was lumpy and torn in spots. The cue missed the seven completely and ended up bouncing harmlessly off the side.
Smiling, Mike leaned in quickly (almost before the cue had stopped rolling) and finished the game with a bank shot that sunk the eight ball into the side pocket.
Jamie looked enraged, but he suppressed the anger and calmly put down the pool cue.
“Good game,” he mumbled under his breath.
“Yes, it was.” Mike laughed, shaking his opponent’s hand curtly. “Now pay up.”
Jamie sighed, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a five, grumbling as though he had expected Mike to forget.
“Wanna play again?”
“Ha,” Jamie smiled. “Not likely. I think I’m just gonna head home and call Sara.”
“Cool,” Mike shrugged, putting his stick away and walking over to where Cathy and Grendel stood. He placed the five down on the counter and waited for Roxanne to come around so that he could buy Cathy a snack before they left.
“You won!” she chirped happily, spreading out her arms as though she were cheering him on from the sidelines of the Superbowl.
“I did,” he laughed, placing a hand on her hip. “Wait, was that in doubt? Did you have doubt-face?”
“Never once,” she assured him, glancing from the five dollar bill to rack of snacks and goodies behind the bar. She knew what it meant. She’d seen it before.
He gave her a quick kiss, then extended it into a longer one.
Jamie shrugged, justifying his loss with the fact that the money would be put to good use buying Cathy and Mike dinner, but more importantly, some much needed alone time. Life was busy, even if their parents would argue that they were lazy.
He grabbed his leather Cougars jacket and waved a goodbye to Mike and Cathy, although they hardly noticed. He smirked to himself as
