“This might not be the best story to tell him.”
Carly chuckled. “Let me guess. Brooke tackled some idiot and made him eat pool chalk?”
“No. Jason stepped in. He got a pool cue in the face.”
They both looked at her blankly.
“Jason Mosedale,” she prompted.
“The cute firefighter?”
Kendra felt her face warm. “Sure, I guess.”
“Okay, now you have to tell the whole story.” Gina bounced on her barstool in excitement. “Tell, tell! Where were we? Me and Carly?”
“You were all asleep. I think we smoked a little too much. Everyone crashed except me and Brooke.”
“God, that takes me back.” Carly sighed. “We were such teenagers. Sometimes I think it’s a miracle we survived. Summer in Lake Bittersweet. The crazy shit that went down…”
That summer, Kendra and the other chambermaids—Carly Gault, Brooke Kendall, Gina Moretti and Trixie Tran—became the best of friends because there was nothing like being required to wear white while cleaning cabins and swabbing toilets to cement a bond.
Even on their off days, they spent time together. They’d go swimming in the lake, hang out on the Blue Drake dock, or roast marshmallows on the beach. They shared secret crushes and embarrassing confessions. They talked about their dreams for after high school. Of the five of them, Kendra and Brooke were the most ambitious; they both wanted to change the world. Fix it. Stop climate change. Stop racism. Stop exploitation.
One night in the Wood Duck Cabin, where the out-of-town girls lived, Brooke brought out some weed that she swore was the best she’d ever smoked. Kendra debated long and hard about whether to try some. Her father always warned her to avoid it, but since he’d smoked plenty—along with Gault and all their musician buddies—it seemed hypocritical. Shouldn’t she at least try it and decide for herself?
Turned out, while the other girls got mellow and even fell asleep, she got hyped up. Around midnight, she looked around and the only other girl still awake was Brooke.
“What now? I want to go have some fun,” she told Brooke. Brooke flipped back her blond hair and grinned. She was from a wealthy summer family, and usually lived back east.
“Let’s play some pool.”
“You don’t want to play pool with me. I grew up in blues dives. I’ll whip your ass.”
“Ooooh, then I have an even better idea! Let’s make some money.”
They rode their bikes to the Cue Ball at the edge of town, ditching them in the weeds because they’d forgotten their bike locks. The midnight sky was so spectacular that Kendra suggested skipping the pool game and just lying in the weeds and staring at the stars until sunrise.
“Don’t be chicken.” Brooke hauled her inside to a smoky room filled with frowny-faced men. Pool was serious business, apparently. Kendra giggled, and couldn’t stop until Brooke pinched her.
The smoke gave everything a hazy, dreamlike feel. She played a few games and barely knew if she won or lost. The round shine of the balls, the thunk of a shot landing in the pocket, the feel of the pool cue sliding through her fingers, that was all that mattered. Win, lose, who cared?
She tried to explain it to the man she’d just beaten. He just sneered at her and challenged her to a rematch.
“Rack ‘em up,” the man growled. He looked really grumpy, she realized. Maybe she should let him win the next one. Older men didn’t like it when younger women beat them at pool. Did it matter that she was Black? Maybe. The man was Hispanic. Either way, she was a girl and she was beating him and he clearly didn’t like that.
Lose the game, she told herself. Just miss a few shots. It’s not the end of the world. Win, lose, who cares?
Across the room, she saw a group of boys from her high school come in and claim a table. The ground steadied under her feet. This was her town. She could win at pool if she wanted to. No way was she going to hold herself back just to make some old out-of-town dude feel better about himself.
So she won. Then she won again. Brooke was raking in the dollars the man kept sliding across the table. He kept ordering more beers, challenging her to more matches. Time passed, but she didn’t notice. Chalk, cue, ball, pocket. Dollar bills. It was almost as if every part of her brain except the part needed for pool turned off. The focus was intoxicating.
And then it all shifted. The man crushed a beer can against the edge of the pool table.
“Hey man, keep it cool,” said Brooke.
“Shut your trap, rich girl. I saw you around the lodge. What are you, slumming it down here with the cleaning staff?”
Brooke and Kendra looked at each other and laughed. “We have the same job, idiot. That has nothing to do with the fact that she’s kicking your ass at pool.”
Even through her foggy haze, Kendra knew that Brooke was taking it too far. Winning was one thing; taunting another.
The man turned to Kendra, shutting Brooke out. “Are you cheating?” he demanded. “Is she helping you? No way you’re winning fair and square.”
“I’m not. Want to go again?”
“Yeah. But I want her out of here. Let’s see if you can win on your own.”
“I’m not leaving,” Brooke began.
“It’s fine.” Kendra waved her away. “Just go hang out with Jason and the others over there. I’ll beat him again and be right over.”
The man snarled in anger. She beat him again. But this time, he lost it. He shifted the pool cue in his grip like a lance and lunged across the table at her. She stumbled backwards and would have fallen, except someone was there to catch her. Whoever it was had a wiry, strong body and smelled like he’d just been eating barbecue. He pushed her down just as the pool cue jammed through the air. She felt his body shudder and knew the cue must have hit him. A gush of blood spilled onto her sweater from above.
She crawled out from the melee and jumped to her feet. Several men were holding back her former competitor. One of them wrestled the pool cue away from him. And Jason Mosedale was surrounded by his buddies, who were doing things like stuffing paper napkins onto his face and grabbing ice cubes from random drinks. She felt someone tug her away, trying to get her out of there. Brooke.
But she resisted. She couldn’t just leave Jason after he’d taken the blow meant for her. The pool cue had split his upper lip open. That was where all the blood was coming from. The whole lower part of his face was already swelling up. He caught her eye. “You okay?” he called to her.
She nodded, even though she felt very far from okay. She was smart. She knew better than to get herself into a position like this. How had she let this happen? What were her parents going to say?
“Let’s get out of here,” Brooke said in a low voice. “Before the police get here.”
Police? Holy shit, she’d be in trouble for sure if the police got involved. If she had to walk some kind of straight line, she might fall on her ass.
Jason jutted his chin toward the exit. He was telling her to leave before she got in worse trouble. Everyone knew Alvin Carter and how proud he was of Kendra. She didn’t know much about Jason’s family. They seemed to be more the “benign neglect” type. Anyway, boys never got into as much trouble as girls did when they stepped out of line.