The Pool Table Prophecy

The neon lights of Tony's Billiards buzzed overhead like trapped insects. Marcus stood at the edge of the pool table, pool cue trembling in his sweaty hands. His best friend Jasmine leaned against the wall, scrolling through her phone like she hadn't just bet twenty dollars he couldn't make this shot.

"You're overthinking it," she said without looking up. "Just hit the cue ball, Marcus. It's not rocket science."

Easy for her to say. She wasn't the one staring down a table full of obstacles that looked suspiciously like a pyramid scheme gone wrong. Marcus had arranged the remaining balls in perfect pyramid formation earlier — mostly because he'd been bored, but now it felt like some cosmic test.

His opponent, Tyler, who everyone called "The Bull" behind his back (partly because of his stubbornness, partly because of his unfortunate hair choice), cracked his knuckles. "Clock's ticking, bro. You gonna shoot or what?"

The whole thing was ridiculous. Marcus had only come to Tony's because his parents were fighting again, because sometimes the sound of pool balls cracking together was better than the sound of silence at home. He'd never expected to be in a high-stakes match against Tyler's bull-headedness, with Jasmine's money on the line.

She caught his eye and winked. A real friend would've told him to fold, but Jasmine had always been chaos in human form. That's why he loved her.

"Alright," Marcus breathed. He bent over the table, the pool cue feeling like an extension of himself for the first time all night. The pyramid of balls glinted under the neon lights. Tyler's bull-like grin faltered.

Sometimes you just have to break the pyramid yourself.

Marcus shot. The cue ball slammed forward, and what happened next was either the greatest moment of his life or pure physics luck. Balls scattered everywhere, pockets clacked like applause, and when it was over, Marcus had cleared the entire table.

Tyler stood there, mouth open. Jasmine whooped so loud the owner yelled at them. And Marcus finally understood what his dad meant when he said sometimes you have to make your own luck in this world.

"Double or nothing?" Tyler asked, though his voice shook.

Marcus looked at Jasmine, who was already pulling out more cash. Some friend she was.

"You're on," he grinned.