Not My Project- A Sweet Pea Story

1 Smothered Hope

A/N: This is going to be completely independent from Riverdale, and a Southside only story, and explore Sweet Pea as the stubborn side of himself, and fully embrace that flawed side of him. As usual, the video is the music I was listening to while I wrote, and for this book, it's going to be a lot heavier.

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        I sat at the bar of the Whyte Wyrm with Toni, taking in the sights and trying to think of the words to use to describe the feeling of being back on the Southside since my family moved. After a few minutes I leaned over and whispered in my childhoods best friend's ear, "It hasn't changed one damn bit. And I love it."

Toni smiled and leaned over, "You should go challenge the king of the table," she nodded toward the pool table in the middle of the room. There was a tall guy standing there, a smug look on his face as he awaited another challenger and put chalk on his pool cue.

I smirked and got up, "Start taking bets. He's in for it."

I walked up to the table and grabbed the extra cue. I bit my lip, raised my eyebrow and asked, "Wanna show me what you can do with that stick you got there? I've always wanted to learn to play."

He raised his eyebrow and looked me up and down, "I don't give lessons for free. What you got, princess?"

"Teach me and I'll show you," I handed him the rack, "Unless you're afraid the student will surpass the teacher."

A shorter boy leaned over and asked Toni, "Are they still talking about pool?" loudly enough for the whole room to hear and let out a ripple of chuckles.

The tall boy smirked and pulled out the rack and gestured for me to come over to him. I bit my lip and walked over, letting him grab me by my hips and face me to the table directly in front of him. He carefully leaned around me, grabbing the pool balls from the table before taking them in my hands, arranging them one by one, and pressing closely enough that I could feel the muscles in his abs against my back.

Once the balls were racked, he went across the table and carefully placed the cue ball. He looked up at me, licked his lips and then sent the white ball flying across the table, smiling when a solid and a striped ball both went in.

"Well. What's your flavor, pretty boy?" I asked gently. He took a while and a smirk crossed his lips, "Lady's choice."

I smiled and said, "I think I like the striped balls better."

With that, he got behind me and carefully helped me to line up a shot, giving an explanation I know was meant to confuse me about how to shoot. I smiled along, though, took his shot and missed. He sighed, shook his head and proceeded to sink three solid balls before missing by a half of a degree.

"Wanna try on your own this time, doll? The odds are stacked against you, but this is pretty straight forward," he leaned over the table and raised his eyebrow at me, clearly insinuating what I'd be doing if I lost this game. I smirked at him and leaned over, "I think I've had enough lessons, big boy. Let's see how good you teach."

In three shots, I had sunk all my balls. A smirk played on my lips as I smiled up at the boy and whispered, "I think this means I have to call the 8 ball, right? I wanna put it in the corner," I pointed my cue at the corner pocket he was standing by, and with a little finesse, sent it flying. The whole bar fell silent, and the tall boy had a mix of emotions on his face.

He walked up to me, smirked and took the cue from my hands as he roughly whispered in my ear, "Nobody hustles me, princess."

I smiled up and said to where only he can hear it, "Looks like I just did. By the way, this princess has a name. And I'll learn yours over the drink I buy you for the trouble."