The Pool Table Prophecy

The basement smelled like orange soda and secrets. Me and Jay were huddled over my dad's old pool table, the felt worn smooth in the middle where we'd spent countless summer afternoons pretending we knew what we were doing.

"Dude, are you gonna shoot or what?" Jay asked, spinning a pool cue between his fingers like he was in a music video instead of my mom's basement.

"I'm thinking," I said, though really I was staring at the cable running along the ceiling where my phone charger dangled, the frayed wire exposed. Six months ago, I'd lied about dropping my phone in the pool at Emma's party. The truth? I'd been too nervous to text her back, so I'd "accidentally" ghosted her. Classic coward move.

"That's such bull," Jay had said when I finally told him. "You're literally overthinking everything. Emma thought you hated her."

The cat — my sister's orange tabby, Pumpkin — jumped onto the table and sat directly on the eight ball. Of course.

"Get off, you little sphinx," I grumbled, scooping her up. Pumpkin regarded me with those ancient, knowing eyes that seemed to say: I know what you did last summer. I named her that because she'd appeared in our backyard three years ago like some mythological creature, refusing to leave until we'd served her purposes (which turned out to be: food, pets, and more food).

"You're still thinking about Emma, aren't you?" Jay asked, breaking my spiral.

"Maybe." I lined up my shot, the pool cue feeling heavy and unfamiliar in my hands. "What if I text her? Like, hey, sorry I ghosted you, my phone broke and I'm an idiot?"

"That's actually not the worst idea," Jay said. "Better than letting it stay weird forever."

My finger hovered over send. The old cable upstairs was still broken, but I'd bought a new one weeks ago. Some other lies were easier to fix than others.

Pumpkin meowed from the floor, and Jay's phone buzzed — Emma, asking if he wanted to hang out.

"Your turn," he said, grinning. "Game's not over until you say it is."

I took the shot. The eight ball sank into the pocket with a satisfying thud.

"Fine," I said, pulling out my phone. "But you're doing this with me."

"Wouldn't miss it," he said. "After all, who else is gonna make fun of you when she says yes?"