Come As You Are Ch. 16

Sadie watched Garrett gently rub his right hand. "Come on," she called out, "you got this..."

"Hey!" Danny's voice boomed over the pool table as he jabbed a finger at Sadie. "No riling up the players!"

"What," Sadie squawked in response. "I'm encouraging him!"

"And you're riling me up, Bedford. Just sit there and be quiet."

"Yeah," Amy chimed from her spot. "He'd tell you to just sit there and look pretty, but we both know that's impossible."

Before Sadie could shoot back, Brenda put a hand on her forearm. "Don't," she said quietly. "He's got this. Look."

Indeed, as Serena lifted the plastic rack Garrett was already in position. His movements were precise, his focus looked on point, and the 7 ball dropped into the side pocket on the break. "Lucky," Danny sniffed, only for Garrett to move on and begin sinking more balls. Sadie swore she could feel Danny's teeth grinding together until Garrett missed on the 6. Danny pounced, quickly coming up and dropping the 6 and the 8. "Ah," he smirked as he lined up on the far side of the table, ready to send the cue ball rocketing across the green felt to sink the 9. "For the record," Danny said as he slid his stick back and forth between his fingers, "this is what victory looks like."

The cue ball clipped the 9 which spun towards the corner pocket. Sadie found herself holding her breath as the ball bounced against the edge of the pocket, only to roll back towards the center of the table. The look of triumph on Danny's face quickly faded as the 9 came to a halt almost perfectly in line with the cue ball, allowing Garrett to rapidly and carefully set up his shot and drop the 9 to take his fourth game.

Danny's subsequent break, however, was perhaps the best of the evening for either player as two balls fell in separate pockets while leaving him with a variety of shots. He sank the next four balls before missing, giving Garrett a chance to catch up. Garrett sank the 5 and the 8 without issue, but his shot on the 9 left it frozen against a side rail within spitting distance of a corner pocket.

"Check this shit out," Danny taunted as he chalked up his cue for his final shot. "I sink this, I win five thousand bucks. Too bad I'll be getting it from Amy instead of you handing it directly over."

There was no reaction from Garrett. Danny's teeth dug into his lower lip as he watched his current opponent and former victim stare at the table rather than him. "Jesus Christ," Danny exclaimed vehemently, "Evelyn's showing more emotion. What's the matter, shutting down because your precious little emotional gas tank is empty? That's the difference between you and me. When the chips are down, I step up. You? You step aside."

Garrett still didn't speak. Danny's eyes narrowed before he bent over the table. Sadie could feel the tension wrapped around her heart like packing tape as Danny lined up the game-winning shot. "Any last words, West?"

Silence was his answer. Danny took a deep breath through his nose, one that caused his entire body to tense up like a raging bull, before letting his frustration out in two loud words that resonated across the entire bar. "SAY SOMETHING!"

Garrett's eyes were on the 9 ball. If he had any kind of reaction to Danny's brief, focused outburst he didn't show it. Maybe his fingers gripped his pool cue a little tighter, but even then Sadie wouldn't have bet money on it. It was as if Danny simply didn't matter to Garrett at that moment. And it only served to piss off Danny even more. "You've been a damn mute all night," he spat. "You're about to lose five grand and get embarrassed in front of everyone who gives a fuck about you! Show a little fucking class and act like this matters!"

Garrett slowly lifted his eyes to look at Danny. "How's your shoulder?" he asked quietly.

"Good enough to beat you." Danny quickly double-checked his shot before once again looking at Garrett. With the same grin of victory on his face, Danny drove his stick forward, sending the cue ball down the table towards the 9 ball. "And that," he said, ignoring the twinge in his shoulder, "is what winning looks like."

A deflated murmur escaped Sadie as the ball dropped into the corner pocket, giving Danny the fifth game and making him the winner of the race-to-five. "I'd tell you thanks for the race, West," Danny smirked, "but it's been more of an inconvenience..."

"Want to go again?"

It was the first time all night Garrett had spoken directly to Danny. Danny's eyes narrowed as Garrett swept his pool cue over the table. "It's only fair you give me a chance to win my money back, right?" he suggested with a confidence that surprised Sadie. "You and me, race-to-five, no intermission, ten grand apiece."

Danny scoffed, "You got ten grand?"

Garrett turned to one of the rugged men at the front door. "Can I get my phone for one second, please? I need the banking app." The man looked to the tall blonde in the black hoodie, who nodded her approval. After getting his smartphone, Garrett unlocked it while walking towards Kim Ellis, who was sitting alone at the bar. He held up his phone so only she could see it. "You're a neutral party," Garrett stated. "Here's my savings account. Am I good?"

Kim whistled as she stared at the screen. "Uh, you totally are. I knew Florida doesn't have an income tax, but wow. Yeah," she told Danny, "he's good."

"Fine. I'll take more of your money. You lost the last race, so you break." Garrett nodded at Danny's statement. Both men waited while Serena racked the balls into a tight diamond. Once she stepped away, Garrett bent over and rested the tip of his pool cue against his wrist splint. He slowly and carefully lined up his shot before driving the stick forward. He immediately stepped back, grimacing as he shook his right hand. The diamond scattered, sending balls across the table. None of them dropped into a pocket, but the cue ball came to rest in a position that denied Danny a shot.

Danny tried to bank the cue ball off a side rail, but he missed his intended target, hitting the far rail before the cue ball rolled to a stop without hitting a third rail, giving Garrett ball in hand. Danny cursed under his breath as Garrett took the cue ball and set up an easy shot on the 1 ball that rolled into the corner pocket. Danny put up a fight, but in the end, Garrett took the first game in the race.

As well as the second and third.

"That's my guy," Vienna noted as Serena racked for the next game. "He's in the zone, right Michelle?"

"He's fucking dialed in," agreed Michelle. "Even with that wrist splint."

Michelle's words may have angered the gods, as Danny managed to take the next game in the race when Garrett's right hand slipped during a shot, illegally pocketing a ball and allowing Danny to run the table. But Garrett won the next game. Danny took the one after, only for Garrett to dominate what turned out to be the final game in the race, giving him the win five games to two.

Garrett sighed with relief once Serena declared him the winner. "Thank you for the ten grand," he said while readjusting the splint. "I think it'll go toward some new furniture..."

"You and me, race to five, fifteen thousand." Garrett glanced at Danny in confusion. The basketball superstar looked more annoyed than angry, but there was no doubt it was all directed at his opponent. "You think I'm going to let you walk out of here with a fucking tie? Put your big boy pants on and give me a rematch."

Sadie was surprised when, of all the people Garrett looked at, it turned out to be Tyler. He was shaking his head, trying to get his friend's attention. When he realized Garrett was staring at him, Tyler silently mouthed one word - "Don't." Garrett answered with an embarrassed shrug before telling Danny, "You're on. Give me five minutes to ice my wrist..."

"Nope. We play now. Rack it," Danny instructed Serena. "I break."

Throughout the next race, Sadie was able to diagnose the shooting styles of the two young men. Danny shot like someone who had a lot of practice. His shots were clean, precise, and measured. Garrett, though, shot like someone who played against opponents. His shots were calculated, but there was always an element of chance to them. As the race went on, he played less defensively and more offensively, focusing more on his shots instead of denying Danny's. If it wasn't for the wrist splint making Garrett shoot left-handed, he might have legitimately wiped the floor with Danny.

Over half an hour later, Garrett stood victorious as he had taken the third race five games to four. Immediately Danny called for a rematch, this time for twenty thousand apiece. Amy confirmed that Garrett could cover the bet, but also called for a five-minute break so people could stretch their legs.

Garrett stopped by the bar before walking over to the hightop, immediately undoing his splint, and setting a paper towel full of ice against his wrist. "How you guys holding up?" he inquired of his friends.

"How are we holding up?" laughed Colette. "I was about to ask if you wanted some of my anti-anxiety meds!"

"I might ask you for some Advil once this is over." Garrett looked over his shoulder. Danny was being berated by Amy, who would turn and berate Tyler as well when he tried to get a word in. "I have him on the ropes," he said in a small, quiet voice. "I can win." After a moment, he looked up at his friends. "Holy shit, is this what self-confidence feels like?"

"Do you think you'll still feel this way tomorrow morning?" Brenda suggested. "Then it might be. You're beating him, Garrett."

"Yeah... but I think I can win. I stick to what's working, don't panic, and I think I can finally win."

"Then go fucking win," Sadie told him. "I already have the victory sex music pulled up on my phone."

X X X X X

"No pain," Danny lied as Tyler checked his shoulder. There was pain, but it was a dull thumbtack that barely reached the joint's muscles. "I can't say the same for West's wrist, though. How the fuck is he doing this?"

"Blind, stupid luck," Amy snorted. "Even the losers get lucky sometimes."

"What's your plan here, Danny?" asked Tyler. "You going to keep playing him until he runs out of money?"

Danny took a deep gulp of ice water before answering. "He's up two races to one. I have to win. Three races to two, four to three, seven to six. He's not walking out of here with a win or a tie. I won't fucking let him."

"I can't talk you out of this, can I?" Danny shook his head at Tyler's question. "OK, then listen to me. He's playing fast and loose. He's shooting cocky and not giving a damn about denying you shots. If he leaves you a good shot, you have to nail it. It's free points off turnovers. Sink those shots and it keeps him from shooting. That's how you win. Take what he gives you and beat him with it."

X X X X X

Gio mumbled a polite curse as Garrett put too much spin on the cue ball, causing it to clip the 7 ball and send it into the railing next to the corner pocket instead of into the corner pocket. Danny easily took the gifted shot and from there sank the 8 and 9 balls, giving him the game and the race five games to four, pulling him even at two races to two. "Again," he told West. "Race to five, we play for twenty-five thousand this time."

Garrett gestured to Kim, who nodded. "I got the cash," he told Danny. "Let's rack them up."

X X X X X

Michelle thought Danny was going to break his stick over the edge of the pool table as, despite groaning as he drove his cue over his wrist splint, Garrett took the fifth game, taking the race five games to three. Before Serena could declare him the winner, Danny called out, "Race to five, bet thirty-five thousand."

"Jesus, Danny." Garrett ran a hand through his messy brown hair before proclaiming, "Fine."

"You better have thirty-five thousand," Danny growled as Serena racked, "or else I'll take it out of your hide."

"Ask Kim. You'll get your money. If you win."

"Where the hell did a loser like you get thirty-five thousand anyway? What did you do in Florida, sell meth?"

"You don't go to Walt Disney World," Garrett answered while casually chalking up his cue, "you don't end up deep in debt to the Mouse."

"Shut the fuck up, West."

X X X X X

They had been playing for over two-and-a-half hours.

A few of their classmates had departed, mainly the ones who weren't locals or townies. Those who remained, however, were enthralled by the contest between Garrett and Danny. The two men were evenly matched, trading races back and forth. Danny would win, pulling him to a tie, only for Garrett to win the next set of games and once again take the lead. One of the men, usually Danny, would offer a rematch for higher stakes, which the other man immediately accepted. Even Sadie had to admit it was masculine dick-waving at its finest - Danny refusing to lose to his high school nemesis and Garrett hoping to get one over on his personal boogeyman.

"Garrett can cover this, right?" Sadie whispered to Vienna. "They're playing for a shit ton of money."

"Kim says he can," Vienna quietly responded, "but you and I are on the same wavelength. Garrett didn't go out much while he lived in Orlando, so maybe he's got the cash. I swear to God, if he got into some shady shit down there, I'm gonna kick his ass. He needs to end this soon, though. His wrist is about to go."

Sadie mentally agreed with Vienna. Over the last few games, Garrett's shot quality had degraded. The sound of ripping Velcro filled the bar as he constantly readjusted and tightened the splint around his right hand. Danny had clawed his way back, winning the last race to five to tie Garrett. Now, with both men tied at four in their current race, Danny had a chance to take the overall lead for the first time since their initial run of games.

Danny had been lining up a shot on the 7 ball. Before shooting, however, he stood up and keenly studied the table. A slow, confident nod followed as he stepped around the table and lined up from a different angle. Instead of sending the 7 ball into a side pocket, he careened it off the rail. It bounced off and impacted against the 9 ball, which rolled into the far corner pocket and, after a moment where Sadie held her breath, slowly dropped in.

"Thank Christ," Danny exclaimed once Serena declared him the winner. "I swear, Scarecrow, you are the luckiest son-of-a-bitch I've ever met. Wire the money to Kim by noon tomorrow, or else I'm going to come looking for you." He motioned to Tyler and Amy. "Come on, let's get the fuck out of here..."

"One more game."

Danny turned to face Garrett even as Tyler rolled his eyes. "One more game," Garrett repeated. "It's getting late and I have to work tomorrow, so no race to five, no more of this back and forth. We shoot it all. You and me heads up for..." He looked towards the ceiling as he crunched the numbers in his head. "...yeah, you and me, heads up for seventy-five thousand. Winner walks away with everything."

"No way," Tyler said before Danny could say anything. "No way. Danny, don't even think about it. That's a stupid decision. You won. Do you hear me? You won. You told me this is when you would walk away. You have his money and your shoulder. So walk away."

Danny nodded. "You see West? This is what a best friend does - they keep you from making mistakes. Enjoy living the rest of your life knowing that even a decade out from high school you're still my bitch."

"Yeah," Garrett called out to a departing Danny, "just like high school. You knock me down but you never knock me out."

Danny froze in mid-step. Slowly, he turned to look over his shoulder. With confidence neither Sadie nor anyone else at the high top expected, Garrett took a step towards Danny. "You've always gone out of your way to torture me. I've seen you detour down a hallway between classes just to shove the books out of my hand. You had Joshua Smith break into my car so you could replace my windshield wiper fluid with cooking oil. Oh, and let's not forget the time you followed me from Mile High Pastries to my house on Granite Way to kick my ass just because you saw me smiling."

It was Garrett's turn to stab a finger at Danny. "Every time I got back up. Every time you shoved me, bullied me, I ended up back on my feet. Sometimes I did it myself, sometimes I needed the help of my friends, and I sure as hell didn't end up anywhere close to being a functional adult, but at the end of the day I'm still standing." He gave a high, barking mocking laugh. "I don't know why I was ever afraid of you. You're as much of a loser as I am."

Danny tore his arm away from Tyler and stalked up to Garrett. "I'm Danny fucking Eastman. I'm a god compared to you. I'm stronger than you, faster than you, richer than you, I've nailed tail hotter than you've ever imagined, and someday I'm going to be in the damn Hall of Fame. You're just a pathetic loser who's working at a candy store." Danny gently but firmly poked Garrett in the chest. "Loser." He then tapped his breastbone. "Winner."

"Winner. Right. Is that why you always get bounced in the first round?"

Sadie thought Danny was going to punch Garrett as he raised his hand. "I've got a pair of championships," Danny snarled, holding up two fingers. "You don't get those by losing in the first round, asshole."

"College championships," Garrett corrected. "Hey," he quickly added, "that's damn impressive. You were a great player at North Carolina. But in the pros, you've made the playoffs twice in six years, and both times got swept right out the gate. Maybe you peaked in college. And if that's the case... well, then you're not Danny fucking Eastman. You're Christian fucking Laettner."

What instantly crossed Danny's face at that moment was pure, utter hatred of a kind Sadie had never seen before in her life. "Oh," Garrett smirked, "did I stutter? You got all quiet and shit. About a minute ago you were talking smack like it was Game 7 of the playoffs up in this motherfucker, now of a sudden you're as quiet as a church."

It was obvious Danny was using every iota of self-control not to simply punch Garrett in the face. "Fine," he snorted derisively, "one more game."

Garrett glanced at Serena. "Rack 'em."

"Who the fuck is Christian Laettner?" Vienna asked as Serena set up for the final game. "I've never seen Danny that pissed in my life."

"Laettner played basketball for Duke University in the early '90s," Brenda said from her end of the high top. "He won back-to-back college championships and an Olympic gold medal but he never really clicked when he got to the pros. Duke and North Carolina are like the Hatfields and the McCoys when it comes to college basketball. They LOATHE each other. Danny always wanted to play for North Carolina so he grew up hating Laettner anyway, but he also saw him as a cautionary tale. Any time Danny talked about wasting his talents, he was referring to Laettner."

Michelle's boisterous laugh caught everyone off guard. "Of course. Garrett's always been good at pissing Danny off. Might as well hit the biggest berserk button Danny's got and hope it throws him off his game."

X X X X X

"Danny..."

"Too late now, Tyler." Danny ground the cube of blue chalk against his new pool stick with enough force to send a small puff of powder into the air. "Don't try to talk me out of this."

"He just called you Christian Laettner. You owe it to yourself to kick his ass. Remember, he challenged you. He's desperate. Play smart, and if he gives you an opening, take it."

"You sure you don't want to come out to Salt Lake, be my personal trainer?"

"Win and I'll consider it."

Danny gave his best friend a sharp, swift nod. "You OK over there?" he called to Amy, sitting across the table.

"I will be when you win," she responded. She jabbed a perfectly manicured nail in Garrett's direction. "I don't know who this Laettner guy is, but don't let it rattle you. It's nothing more than Scarecrow throwing a cheap shot."