Abyssal Emotions (The Outsiders/Dallas Winston Fan-Fic)

Chapter Eleven Dallas' POV

"Aw, come on, Dallas! Another one?"

"Hey, what can I say? When you're hot, you're hot," I reply to Buck after sinking another striped ball into a pocket.

I chuckle and take my jean jacket off, revealing a white wife beater and setting it on my chair. I take a sip of beer and stare at the table, deciding my next move.

I lean forward onto the table, then crouch down leveling my eyes with the green.

"Time's a wastin'," says Buck then he clicks his tongue.

I chuckle again then stand up and take aim at the white que ball. I pump the stick and make contact. The white ball sails up and over a solid ball and clicks with a blue striped ball. The ball rolls into the nearest corner pocket.

Buck growls with frustration and I laugh in response, holding my hands in the air.

"Is time a wastin' now?" I ask with a mock country accent.

He blows a puff of smoke from his lips and rolls his eyes. Then picks his cowboy hat off his head, wipes the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, and sets it back in place.

I lick my lips and look for my next shot. The black eight ball. I line up with the que ball and pump the pool stick once more. The que ball rolls into a solid red ball in front of the eight ball then bounces back.

"Dammit!" I growl.

Buck laughs in response then points towards the other side of the room.

"I think your girl over there has had a little too much," and he laughs again.

"What?" I ask, confused.

He points again and my eyes follow his finger.

The girl from the drive-in, Sophie, is sitting at the bar with a half empty beer in her hand. She's laughing and slurring some words to the guys around her. Then she gets up and starts to dance with one of them. I now notice her sweater is completely unbuttoned  revealing a small tank top and her skirt is pulled a little higher than it was when we walked in. She's lost her shoes and and is stumbling over her feet along with her drunken partner.

I lean against my pool stick and laugh. Buck attempts his shot and misses.

"Your turn, Winston," he says aggravated.

I laugh then look at the table. The shot at the eight ball is lined up perfectly.

"Oh, Buck. You shouldn't have," I say in mock sincerity, placing my hand over my heart.

Buck smirks and growls in disapproval.

I take the shot and the ball falls in the center pocket with a thud.

"Ahh! I love that sound. Don't you love that sound, Buck?"

He blows out smoke with a humph.

"Rematch," he says.

"Sure," I reply, "I love beating you. Same as at the Rodeo in the good ol' days as you'd say." I chuckle. 

I hear a loud crash. Buck and I turn to look at where it came from. Sophie sits on the floor with a chair beside her on its side and a shattered whiskey bottle around her.

"Damn! I-s was-s-s s-gonna drink," she belches, "that."

"Oh come on, Dallas!" Buck says. "Take her home. She's wastin' the damn whiskey."

"Okay. I'll see you for that rematch," I reply.

He nods while sipping his beer. "I'll be waiting."

I start to walk towards where Sophie still sits in the floor. I brush aside the glass pieces with my foot and lean down to grasp underneath her arms to lift her.