Underdawgs

Chapter 6

DJ pockets the black ball, finishing the game, and he and Spike slap hands in celebration. Kev sits on the couch in the corner, quietly sipping on a bottle wrapped in a paper bag. I grab the triangle and rack them up again, and DJ breaks, sending the balls rocketing around the table.

      It's Friday night and the guys and I are at a pool hall called the Bermuda Triangle. It's on the third floor of a converted warehouse in the back streets of one of the main bar precincts in our neighborhood. It's a pretty regular hangout for teens our age and there are no decent parties on tonight, except some Year 11 party Spike wants to crash but the rest of us can't be bothered with.

      The owner of the pool hall is a pretty relaxed guy who lets us smoke and drink as long as we don't get too rowdy or start fights. Every now and again he goes out into the stairwell to smoke spliffs, and one time he even let Spike pay him with a G.

      Spike takes the cue off DJ and lines up a shot. I haven't been home in a few days, thanks to a fight I had with Robert on Wednesday, and have been crashing at Spike's with him, DJ and Oxy.

      Spike takes the shot and manages to pocket a big, but also pockets the white and I take over from him, placing the white in the D. The only other people in the pool hall are a couple of twenty-something Muzzers with their girlfriends, and a tough-looking chick in denim with her partner, both of whom look like pros.

      I line up my shot but miss. DJ takes over with the disciplined mannerisms of someone who's spent more time around pool tables than he has at school. My thoughts fall on Lily, my new go-to spot whenever my attention lapses. I'd seen Lily four more times this week, but usually she'd been with a group of her new friends so we hadn't had much time to chat. Every time we did see each other, our conversations went something like this:

      'Hey, how ya doin'?'

      'Not bad, yourself?'

      'Yeah, I'm all right.'

      'What subject you got next?'

       'Art ...'

       'Man, Mrs Longello's such a bitch.'

      'I know, right?'

      Then one of her friends would come along – 'Lily, come to the bathroom with me ...' or 'Lily, come on, were late for class.' One time, I even heard, 'Oh, you don't want to talk to him. He's dodgy.'

      But every time we did run into each other, I kept getting the distinct feeling she wanted to stay and chat longer.

      Blackjack takes the cue off DJ and proceeds to sink his first ball, but manages to pocket the black ball on his second shot. Blackjack and I are usually an all right team, but we hit the goon sack pretty heavily earlier tonight and our accuracy had suffered greatly.

      The two chicks a couple of tables away finish their game, grab their jackets and leave.

      DJ racks up the balls and we start another game.

      Lily has become quite popular in her first week at Kaid Street. Her good looks and friendly nature have made her an instant hit with more or less everyone. Lily still intrigues me. She's unlike any other girl I've ever known or met. She's sociable and funny, with an uncanny ability to understand and evaluate people without judgement. The two of us sparked so well when we first met that now I can't get her out of my head. But others have noticed Lily as well, and it looks like it's only a matter of time before one of the sensitive Hipsters or handsome Jocks asks her out. How could they resist – she's perfect.