Sagittarius A-Town

"She's a gold digger." Ryan said triumphantly, after meeting her for the first time. "She's only with you 'cause you're going to be famous. No offence, dude, but she's basically the worlds most patient hooker."

Of course, I didn't believe him, and we were inches from coming to blows. Sure, she was the quintessential cheerleader. She was breathtakingly attractive, popular and frankly, a bit of a bitch, but despite all of her shortcomings, I loved her from almost day one.

"Just me, u and Murray," I replied.

A ding instantly notified me of Ryan's response, "On my way" it read. One of Ryan's best qualities was his dependability. That is, you could always depend on him to want to get drunk and try to pick up girls while I moped in the corner. Although most girls seemed intimidated by his sheer size. It was common knowledge he was packing a tree trunk in his shorts, adding that to his monstrous, built-like-a-brick-house frame didn't exactly help his case either, or actually, thinking on it, maybe it did.

After showering and changing, I skipped down the stairs and opened the front door, "I'm going out!" I shouted, and slammed the door before I could hear protests.

---------

"He shoots! He misses!" I jeered to Ryan when he returned to the bar.

He had left to talk to a girl who had been giving him the so called 'fuck me eyes' all night. Judging by the expression on his face it didn't go as well as he expected.

"Let me guess," I continued, "She's too frigid? No, wait actually... let me see..." The living giant took his seat and drained half his glass in one swig. "She's dying? She's got a boyfriend? She's a lesbian? She has to get up early for work?" Ryan remained motionless, staring at his drink. "Dude, c'mon, I can guess all night. What's the excuse this time?"

Ryan sighed and looked up from his drink, beaming a colossal smirk "Actually, shit-for-brains, I didn't strike out this time, I just came over here to tell your boring ass that I'm going to be leaving with Annie-"

He stopped mid-sentence, glancing around, his face strained. The big lummox was thinking. "Or was it Amy? Abby? Ava? Shit, dude, I don't know what her name is, but you should see the size of her rack." He said, as he groped imaginary tits on his chest, his booming laugh echoing throughout the entire bar.

"No way." I said, finishing the remains of my drink, "You can't leave me here alone. I ain't drunk enough to go home yet."

"Well, that's not my problem anymore, I'm leaving with April," He said, pushing himself off his stool, "But you should stay here and whet your beak, if you know what I'm saying." He guffawed, as he gestured toward a large group of girls.

"Yeah, and Ashley would castrate me. Go on then, get out of here with what's-her-name. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

A slap on my back and Ryan was gone. I don't know how he always pulled it off. Most of the girls in the town knew exactly what Ryan was like, he was the archetypal 'fuck you and never call you' type of jock but he somehow still managed to pick up a girl almost every night. Considering how fast word travels in a town like this, I assumed it would've been a well known fact among the girls exactly what type of guy he was.

"Murray?" I called to the barman, "Can I get another?"

The bartender slammed the glass down so hard that most of it's contents splashed onto the bar and dripped onto my leg. He extended his arm and glared at me, demanding payment.

He was a bald man of towering stature and hulked over me. Neon light created an aura of red around his ebony skin and his sclerae were a dull yellow. His back was slightly hunched, and he occasionally walked with a limp, depending on the weather. He seemed almost ill, but it didn't make him any less of an intimidating figure.

"What's your problem?" I asked, with a raised eyebrow.

"I ain't got all day." He grunted through his whiskers.

"Y'know, Murray, the bartender/patron relationship goes both ways. And something's bothering you," I said, fishing the money out of my pocket, "You can talk to me. C'mon, lay it on me, big guy. Hit me with it."

"Y'all fuckin' suck, man." He spat, as he snatched the money out of my hand. He threw it into the register, slammed it shut and turned to me again. "How hard is it to throw a fuckin' ball? Y'all make it look like it's the hardest damn thing in the world. Hell, my grandma could do better than y'all, and she's been dead fourteen years now. If I was twenty years younger, I'd be showing' y'all sorry asses how to play real ball. Did you know they used to call me.."

"Yeah, we all know what they called you. You were the toughest guy around, a real bad ass on the field.... You tell me this Every. Single. Night. You really need new stories."

"Or, maybe you need to get your ass to a different bar for a change. Or go do some homework like a regular kid."

"And miss this incredible atmosphere? I can hardly hear myself think in here." I gestured around to the near deserted bar as I spoke.

"Don't make me climb over that bar and whoop your ass."

"You sure you're able? Looks like you've been hitting the barbeque a bit too often." I jeered, patting my stomach in jest.

"Do I need to ask you for I.D.?"

"Fine, fine. I'm sorry. You win." I said, and, with a hint of a snicker, Murray shuffled away.

He was in his usual post-loss mood today. So typical his mood on days that we've lost, that the usually crowded, rambunctious bar would slip into near quietness. He moped around behind the bar all night and poured his anger into his customers. Most people avoided him for his attitude but I enjoyed it. Passion changed his mood and I had respect for passion. Besides, at least this way I wouldn't have to talk to anyone.

It was a sort of irony that the more agitated the bartender became, the more relaxed the bar became. Well, at least for me it seemed more relaxed. It was a pretty big place, but like most towns with nothing else to do, the bars filled up first. Nights like tonight gave me a chance to relax and enjoy the atmosphere. The quiet and warmth made it seem more like a restaurant than a bar. Murray was a big softie anyway, you just had to know how to handle him. A couple of jokes and he would calm down quick enough.

I stretched and quickly surveyed the area. As expected, there wasn't many people around. A few isolated groups dotted the bar, and without the occasional outburst of laughter I wouldn't have even known they were there. I took a gulp of my drink. It was half empty because of Murray. With a chuckle, I noted to only pay him half price next time, just to see his reaction. Half price for half a drink. I could see the veins pop in his neck already. Now, that would be good.

"Is this seat taken?" A soft, female voice suddenly said from beside me.

"Nah, it's not. You're welcome to have it if..." I trailed off mid-sentence when my eyes locked onto her.

She was standing to my right, both hands on the back of a chair, with her legs crossed beneath her. Raven hair flowed down her in waves, covering her narrow shoulders and adorning her flawless, bronze skin. She had large, mascara darkened eyes, that were framed by long lashes, and shone like chocolate topazes, even in the dim lighting of the bar.

Her body was covered in two colors: black and yellow. A t-shirt and jeans clung to her trim frame, running into heels. Besides her quite obvious beauty, there was an aura of grace and royalty that surrounded her. It was suffocating and intense, and it made it hard for me to breathe.

She watched me with a raised brow and a crinkle in her nose, patiently waiting for my response. When I realised I was staring silently like an idiot, I quickly snapped my jaw shut and nodded my approval at her taking the chair, but, much to my surprise, she slid past me and hopped up onto it instead.

"Oh, you're going to sit here?"

"I... guess. Is that a problem? I can stand if you want."

"No, no, of course not. Stupid question, really. I don't know why I even asked."

"O-kay."

With a smile, she gestured Murray over and ordered a drink, which he left to fetch immediately. I used every ounce of my strength to look straight ahead, but my eyes - the filthy traitors - flicked to her on their own accord, desperately seeking another illicit view of the deity.

She didn't return my glance. Instead, she sat beside me in awkward silence while she waited, and quietly hummed along to a song I had never heard before.

I tried to think of something to say to break the silence, but I was at a complete loss for words. I couldn't come up with anything. Nothing at all. My mind drew a complete and utter blank. I had faced colossal men on the field, and played in front of hordes of fans, but had never before felt as intimidated as I was around this girl.

A long, agonising moment passed before she finally spoke, rescuing me from the cringe-inducing silence, "You don't talk much, do you?" She asked.

"Jake." I said quickly - too quickly - suddenly realising that wasn't the question. Instantly, my cheeks started to burn, and sweat beaded on my forehead. I silently cursed myself, grimacing internally, and mentally beat my brain with a large mallet.

'I'll take that as a no." She said, laughing softly. "I'm Riley." She held her hand out and I took it in my own. It was soft and gentle, and much smaller than mine.

"Nice to meet you, Riley." I replied.

"Jake, right? Is that what you said?"

"That's right."

"Nice to meet you too, Jake. Do you mind giving me my hand back?"

"Oh, shit. Sorry."

Murray returned, placing Riley's drink on the counter with a quick nod. As he stepped out of her line of sight, I saw his face twist into the incredulous look that summed up exactly how I felt. It was a look that begged the question, "What the hell is a girl like that doing talking to him?"

Now, I wasn't exactly Quasimodo, but a girl like that should be walking on a catwalk or starring in a make-up commercial, not in some sports bar in the middle of nowhere talking to someone like me. I wasn't too arrogant to admit that to myself.

I thought about what Ryan would say if he had seen her. He would definitely have the confidence to ask for her number. With the track record he had, I wouldn't have been surprised if he succeeded too. I always admired Ryan for his confidence, if he wanted something he knew he was good enough to get it. It was times like this I wished I had some of it.

"You know, it's rude to stare." She said, interrupting my thoughts.

"I wasn't staring!" I said, breaking my stare.

"Sure, you weren't." A smirk curled up at the side of her lips, as she took a sip of her drink. She turned until she was completely facing me and crossed her legs. Something about her... smile? Or was it her eyes? Yeah, it had to be her eyes. They were hypnotizing me, pulling me deep into a stupor.

"Okay maybe, I was. But in my defence: you're really, really hot."

"Wow... that... was... smooth. I don't really know how to respond to that."

"It's not one of my better lines."

"That wasn't even a line." She said, with a laugh. "I'm actually kind of embarrassed for you."

"That makes two of us."

"You look like a scared little puppy. Relax, I don't bite."

I gulped. "I'm not gonna lie. I'm pretty nervous."

"Because of me? You really shouldn't be."

"If you say so."

Riley's eyebrows raised. "Is everything okay? You seem sad."

"Well, I'm kinda having a sad week."

"You're not here by yourself, are you? 'cause that would be sad." Her accent was gentle, smooth -- much less exotic than her appearance suggested.

"Yes, ma'am. My 'friend' kind of left me here alone."

"Eww, no, don't call me ma'am. I'm only twenty, you're making me feel forty." Riley said, giggling gently. She emanated the smell of apples, and her every movement carried the scent into my nostrils. A knot tightened in my stomach and I smiled stupidly at her.

Her eyes widened in a sudden panic, 'Oh! I mean, twenty one... I mean... please, don't tell the bartender my age."

I half-laughed, half-snorted. "I don't think Murray would even care. It's all money to him, no matter who's giving it. Can you keep a secret?" She nodded her head and I leaned in close, bringing a finger to my lips. "I'm only eighteen, anyway."

She looked me up and down, a bemused smirk spreading across her face. "Really? Eighteen, huh? You look a lot older. Do you work out?"

"Something like that."

I wasn't trying to be dismissive. I just didn't want to mention football. At all.

"Okay, then. I guess if you're here all alone, I can keep you company for awhile. If you're willing to pay for my drinks for the trouble, that is."

"It's the least I can do."

Riley tilted her head, her full lips curving. "You're such a gentleman."

I gulped again. "So what about you? Did you end up alone here, too?"

"Nah, my friends are right over..." She turned in the chair, scanned for her friends, and with a sigh, she half-heartedly gestured toward a group of girls who were walking toward the exit. They were looking at us and laughing among themselves. A tall girl at the back of the group gave an exuberant wave, which Riley returned, albeit much less enthusiastically.

"Looks like I'm here alone, too " She continued, before suddenly covering her face with both hands. "I'm sorry, I'm so embarrassed. My friends have been trying to set me up with somebody for so long now and I think when they saw me sitting with you they must have just assumed..."

"Don't be embarrassed. Seriously, it's fine. I'm the one who should be embarrassed, sitting here at a bar by myself like some sad old man. Nah, I'm more than glad for the company."

Riley emerged from behind her hands and groaned. "I'm going to kill them for this tomorrow."

I chuckled. "Well, at least remember to thank them for me first."

She returned my laugh with a roll of her eyes, almost ashamed at my thinly veiled compliment. After taking another sip of her drink, she casually looked up at the television above us, which, to my dismay, happened to be showing video highlights of tonight's game.

We both sat in a moment's silence watching the screen. Four horribly misplaced passes and a fumble was the extent of my genius.

"Ugh, I hate football." She murmured while she watched. "All that male bravado just kind of turns me off, you know? It's just an excuse for guys to slap each others butts and wrestle each other to the floor, I think... Wait a second... Do you think that guy wearing number four kind of looks like you?" She sounded perplexed, and pointed excitedly at the TV.

I looked at her in confusion. "You're not from around here, are you?"

That much was apparent, and the question had been mostly rhetorical. If she was from Bucksville I would have certainly noticed her before, or at the very least would have heard of her. A girl who looked like that wouldn't remain anonymous in Bucksville for long. Word travels fast in a small town.

"Nope! I'm from Brazil originally. I moved to America around... fifteen years ago? I lived in Sacramento - up in California - until, seven months ago? That's when I moved here!" She paused for a moment to breathe, then continued, "So is it you?"

"Is who me?"

"The guy on TV. Number Four."

"Oh," I scratched my jaw. A slight stubble was starting to grow and my face had an unusual coarseness to it. "Yeah, it's me."

"Oh... you're not very good."

I chuckled, "So I've been told."

She waved her hand through the air, dismissing her dig as a joke. She flicked her hair and once again flashed me her brilliant whites. Call me crazy, but she seemed genuinely interested in me. How much of that was plain old wishful thinking, I wasn't quite sure.

"Is that why everybody keeps staring at us?" She said, looking over my shoulder.

I looked around the room and sure enough, she was right. What little groups of people were here were whispering and staring at us. Most of them refused to make eye contact or tried to make it seem like they weren't staring, but I could feel their eyes bore into me. A chill ran up my spine and I suddenly became hyper-aware of everybody in the bar. Before Riley had reminded me of them, it had felt like we were on our own private planet. Now, they were aliens invading our world. And I wanted them out.

"I think the guys are staring at you." I said.

"Good answer." She said, her lips narrowing to a smirk. "So then, what about the girls?"

"Oh, they're staring at me."

She giggled, then playfully slapped my shoulder. "Alright then. Tell me why you're sad. You're young. You're on TV. What more could you possibly need?"

"There's more to life than being on TV."

"Is there?"

"Definitely."

"So tell me then, if being on TV isn't enough, what do you want?"

"Right now? Another drink."

"No, I mean more than that. Something bigger. Something you want more than anything else in the whole world."

"More than anything else?"

"In the whole wide world."

Would it be wrong to say you? "Meh, I dunno. World Peace?"

She rolled her eyes. "Congratulations, Miss Texas! Here's your crown! No, c'mon, give me a real answer."

I didn't even have to think about it. "To leave Bucksville and never look back."

"Really? I kinda like it here."

"You're really not from around here, are you?"

"Is that gonna be a problem?" She said with a pout.

I smiled. "No. That's exactly what I need right now. What brings you to Texas anyway?"

"I'm studying at the local college in town. I'm going to be a nurse."

"Bucksville College, huh? I didn't think anyone actually went there."

"Not everyone is a sports star." She said, looking me straight in the eye. "I'm just gonna guess you're getting a full ride to some prestigious college, right? Not everyone has that luxury. Some of us have to work for our tuition. And work hard, too."

"I didn't mean to offend you."

"I'm not offended." She smiled cheerfully. "I'm sorry for the rant. I just hate being judged for things that are out of my control."

"Hey, I'm not judging you. Prestigious colleges mean nothing to me. To be honest, I wouldn't even care if I went to college or not. Just as long as I left Bucksville. I wish I could just up and leave tonight."

"How would your girlfriend take that?"

"I don't have a girlfriend." I responded instantly.

What did I just say? I don't know if it was the alcohol, or her intoxicating smell clouding my senses, but I thought I saw... relief? I dismissed the idea, and shook my head in punishment for my mind deceiving me.

"Well, cheers to being single, I guess."

"I'll drink to that."

We clinked our glasses and drained them, then another, and another. Not a single moment passed between us in silence. The sounds of laughter emanated from her more and more with every drink, and I felt myself slip into a giddy trance. I asked her every question that came to mind, as if we were in our own private quiz show. I needed to consume every ounce of knowledge I could about the deity. No matter what it was.

In what felt like minutes, closing time was upon us. Riley looked as unhappy as I did about it. She pleaded in vain with the staunch bartender, begging him to remain open for a few more minutes. But, true to form, like a male Cinderella, Murray ushered us out as soon as the clock struck midnight.

"Do you mind walking me home?" Riley asked, as we stumbled out into the night's stillness. "I don't like walking alone in the dark."

"I don't know." I teased. "My mom told me to stay away from girls like you."

She leaned in until her lips brushed my earlobe, her breasts pressing against my side. "Your mom's never met a girl like me." She breathed, then placed a soft kiss on my cheek. She linked her arm in mine and, in a daze, I followed alongside her.