Flawed

Scene 3: Jaded

C h a p t e r   T h r e e :

                                                                                    J A D E D

♂

Mike's basement makes the perfect hangout spot. Soft carpet, stocked bar, and the kinds of things you'd only ever expect to see in a bachelor pad. We'd call it a man cave if it weren't for the Girls.

A worn carpet, the color of rust, lines the floor and all the furniture is leather. The lights are dimmed, giving the room a lounge-like vibe. 

Mike's basement is also the perfect place to get my ass kicked by our running back.

"Wow, Jace, how far behind are you?" Dakota grins like a maniac as yet another striped ball finds its pocket.

I don't bring up how, halfway through the game, I'd stepped in for Mike -- who can't play pool to save his damn life. I smile instead, chalking up my pool stick.

Dakota has one more before the eight-ball and there's a clear shot straight to the corner pocket. He sees it and his grin grows wider.

The anticipation of beating me is clear: shaky hands, flushed face, shit-eating grin. His look of intense concentration is almost laughable, and even more so in the dimmed light.

The rest of the guys are on the sideline chugging beers, observing, as they make stupid comments about both the Girls and our game.

Dakota pulls back, getting ready to drill it.

"Dakota!" Katie coughs, just as he fires. The stick nicks the side of the cue ball and sends it spinning wildly in the opposite direction, eventually rolling into one of the middle pockets with a shameful plunk.

Dakota's ears turn a bright shade of red as he glares at the couch in the corner, where the Girls have all made themselves at home.

Katie's best friend, Hannah, snaps a picture.

"Bitches..." Dakota mutters.

I cringe as I fish the cue ball out of its pocket.

Tyler, our quarterback, decides now is the time for a sports announcer. "Well, folks, looks like the tables have turned as the balls are now, quite literally, in Miller's hands." He uses his fist as a microphone.

The comment draws a few laughs from the team, myself included.

Neither the Girls or Dakota find it quite as funny.

Dakota, even less so, when he watches in horror as I sink my last four solids, his knuckles white against his pool stick.

"Anderson is looking a little worried, could this be it?" Tyler continues.

It's just the eight-ball now.

I glance over at Bella as I line up my shot, one I've made a thousand times. She's on the edge of her seat, her eyes wild with excitement; she loves winners.

"Come on, Jace!" Tyler drawls in support.

"Come on, Jace!" The rest of the guys echo, rather unsynchronized.

I shoot carefully and the cue ball grazes the eight and sails straight into the pocket I called.

Plunk.

The sound ricochets off the walls as everyone in the room falls silent.

I swear, in that moment, I could hear Pete's stomach growl.

"Well, shit..." I say, frowning.

Dakota's jaw nearly hits the floor as he drops his pool stick and throws his arms up in victory, laughing.

Tyler announces the end of the game as the guys go nuts, congratulating our running back on his win.

A cloud of disappointment washes over Bella's face as she slumps back into the couch. She's scowling, clearly unhappy with me.

I shrug it off; kicking the guys' asses at pool got old a week after Mike got the table -- which was about a year or two ago.

The rest of the night drags as we laugh at the same old jokes, retell the same old stories, and get scolded by at least one of the same old Girls.

Katie and her friends continue to snap pictures; they want the rest of the world to know how much fun we're having, how much better we are than everybody else. We stick to our roles, never missing a beat even as our phones chime in our pockets, notifying us that we've been tagged online.

No one notices me watching the clock, counting down the minutes until I can make my escape. If I leave too early, then I'm a buzzkill. If I leave too late... well... I'm getting a headache just thinking about staying here any longer than I have to.

The divide between us is obnoxiously blatant, but no one wants to admit that hanging out is starting to feel more like a chore and less like actually hanging out. Either that, or they're all blind. They still smile, still laugh, and I try my best to do the same.

Another minute ticks by.

"Let's do teams!" someone suggests, holding up the pool sticks like it's the first time we've ever laid eyes on them.

🕦

"Where've you been?" My mom's voice is soft in the dark.

I lock the front door and turn around to see her curled up on the couch, the remote resting on the cushion beside her.

The dim light of the television illuminates the room and it isn't until I look at it do I realize it's the frozen intro to Pretty Little Liars.

I smack myself in the forehead. "I forgot that was on tonight...."

She shoots me a motherly smile, smoothing a hand over her ponytail. "I didn't want to watch it without you."

Dressed in her PJs, this is my favorite version of my mother; far different from when she leaves the house, primped and dressed to impress.

I'm too used to seeing people like that. Hell, I'm friends with people like that. Inside the safety of our home, though, my mom is nothing like those people.

I grab a blanket from the closet, throwing it over her before I get comfortable.

"Did you at least have fun?" she questions, resting her head against the back of the couch as she peers over at me.

My lip curls, "Same old, same old."

She nods, understanding, as she reaches for the remote.

She's always understanding.

I look around, just now realizing we're the only ones here. "Where is everyone?"

"Bonding, I guess. Your father took your brothers to the Grill, he's showing them how to run the place."

"Of course he is."

She smirks, "He was planning on dragging you along...."

"I'm glad he didn't," I scowl, stretching out once my body hits the chair.

Mom smiles, holding the remote up suggestively. "So am I."

I sink into the leather and motion for her to hit play.

The low hum of "Secrets" fills the room, lulling us both into a comfortable silence.

This?

I could never get tired of this.

My phone chimes once again as everyone comments on how great of a time they all had.

With the press of a button, they're silenced for the night.