A night in New Hampshire

1

I watched as the balls skillfully dance across the table, twirling into the dips of the pool table. The murmur of Allen Heathers's voice filled Jacques's bar. "Where is she?" I whispered to myself, scouring the bar. I grimaced at the bitterness of my beer. The roar of the bar's rusty door hinges ripped into my ears. I cringed, closing both my eyes. I opened my left eye to witness a beautiful woman stepping into the neon lights over the bar stools.
I slouched as she took a seat beside a young man. He looked about three years younger then me. "Ugh, dammit!" I cursed as I took the last sip of my beer. "Hey, Dall, whatcha need?" Jerry, the bartender asked, the trowing a dish rag over his shoulder. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the young man looking questioningly at me, but I grinned when I noticed the woman gawking at me. "Uh, two beers, thanks." I said, pulling up a stool. I swiftly caught the two brown, iced bottles sliding down the bar. The woman blushed as I slid one down to her, but the man beside me stopped it grimly. "Hey, that was for the lady," I said, popping my beer open. His grin revealed his yellowed teeth, "Opps, do I look like the kind of guy that would let a free beer pass right by me? Especially for a woman? Huh!" He scoffed, and the woman stood up. She strode over to the pool table where my abandoned beer bottle sat. "Oh, I'm sorry..." I mumbled as I picked up the bottle. "No, it's fine. Thank you for the beer I didn't receive." She said, shooting a nasty look forward the yellow toothed man. "Yeah, who is that anyway?" I asked, leaning against the pool table. She rolled her blue eyes, "His names Stanly. He's quarter owner of K.C's Chicken Palace." She said. She stick the pool stick between her fingers, and I watched as I had before, as the balls shot into the dips. "Wow, you're really good at pool. Maybe even better than me," I smarted, sneering. "Is that a challenge? I'll smoke you all the way to New York." She snickered, leaning on the pool stick. "It's on..." I snapped for her name. "Tegan Luthers," She said, smiling. "Pretty name, where do you work?" I asked, scouring the bar. "Who you looking for? Girlfriend?" I grinned when I heard the concern in her voice. "Not that I'm worried," Tegan said firmly. "It's alright, but I am looking for a girl." I replied, searching for a grim look on Tegan's face. "Ah, crap, not that girl." I whispered, ducking as a red head named Bree strode forward is.