High School Diaries (A Throne of Glass Fanfiction)

Chapter 11

Brows narrowed, Celaena aimed the cue at the white ball. The pole slid easily between her fingers as she steadied her hand on the felt surface of the table. With an awkward lurch of her arm, she jabbed the rod forward. She missed completely.

Cursing, Celaena tried again. She hit the cue ball in such a way that it gave a pathetic half roll to the side, gently knocking into a colored ball with a faint click. Well, at least she’d hit something. It was more successful than her research on the Arobynn's new business partner had been.

It was 1 in the afternoon, Ms. Florine hadn't come to the class. By the 15 minute rule, students dispersed. And she ended up in the indoor sports room. She wanted to go up on the roof, but Dorian and Chaol told her to meet them here. She went to staffroom to find Ms. Florine, despite Dorian calling her 'Chaol 2.0'. She wasn't there, nor was she in school for that matter. Celaena would need to talk to her if it was something concerning her too.

It was past ten minutes of waiting, and, in need of a break from hours of schooling, traveling, illicit activities and fretting about Arobynn, she’d picked up the billiards cue. She was too tired for any other sport, even, seniors were starting to eye her like she was intruding on them and—well, billiards seemed to be the only plausible activity. She’d picked up the cue with high hopes that the game wouldn’t be too difficult to learn.

The assassin pivoted around the table and took aim again. She missed. Gritting her teeth, she considered snapping the cue in half across her knee. But she’d been attempting to play for only 20 minutes. She’d be incredible soon. She’d master this ridiculous game or she’d turn the table into firewood. And use it to burn Arobynn alive.

Celaena jabbed the cue, and hit the ball with such force that it zoomed toward the back wall of the table, knocking three colored balls out of its way before it collided with the number three ball, sending it shooting straight for a hole.

It stopped rolling at the edge of the pocket.

A shriek of rage ripped from her throat, and Celaena ran over to the pocket, completely forgetting where she was. She first screamed at the ball, then took the cue in her hands and bit down upon the shaft, still screaming through her clamped teeth. Finally the assassin stopped and slapped the three ball into the pocket.

Celaena suddenly remembered where she was, when the room became utterly silent. She was going to turn when she heard a snicker.

***

“For 'I can beat you and Chaol in every sport', this is pathetic,” said Dorian, stepping from the doorway.

She yelped and swung toward him. Her shirt was out of the skirt, rolled up and hair a mess at this point from all the pulling. He leaned against the table, smiling as she turned a deep shade of red. “If you’re going to insult me, you can shove this—” She lifted the cue in the air and made an obscene gesture that finished her sentence.

He rolled his sleeves before picking up a cue from the rack on the wall. “Are you planning on biting the cue again? Because if you are, give me a moment to take out my phone. I’d like to capture it so I can forever remember the sight.”

“Don’t you dare mock me!”

“Don’t be so serious.” He aimed at the ball and sent it gracefully into a green one, which dropped into a pocket. “You’re immensely entertaining when you’re hopping mad.”

To his surprise and delight, she laughed. “Funny to you,” she said, “infuriating for me.” She moved and took another shot. And missed.

"Where's Chaol?"

"He's on the way. Don't worry, he's a big boy. He won't get lost." Dorian shrugged, leaning on the cue lightly.

"I'm more worried about his increasing blood pressure, in leaving you and me alone."