Damn Good Reasons **DISCONTINUED - SEE NEW VER!**

Chapter 11 - Divergence (Part 2)

Irby's was packed out that Saturday night. The smoke was so thick that a cloud puffed out the front door as Ace and I walked in. I followed him through the haze to the back of the room where the rest of the boys had already started their night.

Jack and Charlie were on the pool table, and the other four were sitting in the booth with a beer each. There was a cluster of extra beers center-table, and Ace swiped one up and offered it to me. I shook my head at it, and he shrugged before cracking the top off.

Vince and Eyeball sat opposite each other, playing drinking games across the table. Judging by the drunken state of Eyeball, it seemed that he was losing... badly. The game was simple enough: Vince was flipping a quarter and calling heads or tails. If he got it right, Eyeball had to drink. If he got it wrong, Vince was supposed to drink. But I never saw Vince get it wrong.

"You're gonna luth this time," Eyeball slurred as he took an unsteady swig.

Vince flipped and covered the quarter on his hand. "Tails!" he called.

Bursts of laughter rang out among the other guys as Vince revealed the correct call once again; tails it was - Eyeball had to drink. I watched carefully as Vince flipped again and continued on his winning streak, steadily slaughtering Eyeball into a state of disrepair. But I knew his secret. You can feel the underside of the coin with your thumb before placing it on your hand. If the underside is smooth, tails is on top. If it's rough, it'll be heads.

Vince announced yet another win, and Eyeball's eyebrows sagged. "Fuck you, man!" he yelled. "Why don't I ever get to flip?"

"Here then loser," Vince said, throwing the quarter at him.

Eyeball was so drunk by that time that after he tossed the coin he was too uncoordinated to catch it again. It dropped between his legs, fell under the table and rolled across the floor.

"That's a vessel!" Vince blared, abruptly standing and pointing down at Eyeball. "Come on, you pussy! Suck back that whole bottle!"

"Get fucked ya cock-knocker!" Eyeball huffed, raising his middle finger at Vince. He may have appeared to be irritated about losing, but he still avidly downed his drink, looking like he enjoyed every mouthful of it.

I gave Ace an agonizing look, wishing I'd stayed home.

"OK," he said, turning to Charlie and Jack. "Game's over boys. Rack 'em up."

Charlie's cue was ripped out of his hands and given to me.

"Said I'd teach you, remember?" Ace said.

"Yes... yes, you did." He had offered to teach me because I had lied to him by saying that I didn't know how. The truth was, I was rusty and didn't want to embarrass myself in front of them all. I regretted lying to him now, and I was about to confess when Vince rudely bumped my shoulder as he walked by.

"Teaching the chick to play, Ace?" he said, flashing me a haughty smile before disappearing into the men's room.

I scowled and chalked up my cue.

"We play standard eight-ball and we always play for money," Ace said, peering down the length of his cue, inspecting it for flaws. "But since you're new at this, we're gonna play a non-official practice round. You wanna break?"

"You do it this time." I swear I wanted to tell him, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity to strike back at Vince and chalk one up on my side of the board.

"Watch and learn." Ace strolled to the end of the table and leaned down low over his cue. He drew it back and then thrust forward with force, breaking the balls and pocketing two solids. He then ambled around the table, sinking one ball after the other without a miss. He was on form that night and I felt both nervous and excited about playing him for real.