Nine Years Ago

The cue felt heavier than it should have, or maybe that was just Luke standing way too close for someone who claimed he needed space to aim.

"You're blocking my shot," I said, squinting at the table.

"I'm not even near you," Luke replied, leaning casually against the edge of the snooker table. "You're just intimidated."

"By you?" I scoffed. "Please. I've seen you miss easier shots."

Henry let out a very loud, very unnecessary kissing sound from the sofa.

"Can you not?" Maya groaned, flopping dramatically against the wall with a beer pong cup in hand. "This is why I hate slow games. Snooker is just flirting with sticks."

Sophia laughed, tucking her face into Henry's shoulder. "You're just mad because you're losing."

"I'm not losing," Maya shot back. "We're not even playing. It's literally just them." She pointed the cue straight at Luke and me. "This is not a game. This is... whatever that is."

Josh smirked. "Wow. Jealousy doesn't look good on you, May."

She narrowed her eyes. "Say that again and I'll hit you with this cue."

I lined up my shot, trying very hard not to think about Luke's reflection in the polished wood, or the way his stupid mouth twitched like he was already amused by whatever I was about to do.

"You're overthinking it," he said lightly. "Just hit the ball."

"I don't overthink," I muttered.

"You absolutely overthink."

I took the shot anyway.

The ball clipped the edge. Miss.

Luke made a soft tsk sound. "Tragic."

"Oh shut up," I snapped, straightening. "Maybe if someone wasn't breathing down my neck—"

"I wasn't breathing," he said. "I was observing."

"Observing what? My inevitable failure?"

"Your tendency to choke under pressure," he said calmly.

Josh burst out laughing. "Damn, Miller. You gonna let him say that?"

I turned slowly toward Luke, cue still in hand. "You wanna repeat that?"

Luke's grin widened just a bit. "See? Emotional."

"I am not emotional."

"You are," he said, taking his turn and smoothly sinking a ball into the corner pocket. "Very expressive, actually."

Maya gagged loudly. "God, this is unbearable. Can someone spill a drink or start a fight or something?"

Henry lifted his head. "We could make out louder."

"Don't you dare," Maya warned.

Luke circled the table, chalking his cue, eyes flicking to me. "Your turn. Try not to embarrass yourself."

I stepped up beside him, deliberately bumping his shoulder. "You talk a lot for someone who alphabetizes their socks."

"They're color-coded," he corrected automatically. "Alphabetizing wouldn't make sense."

Josh wheezed. "Oh my God, you're both freaks."

I leaned in, lowering my voice just enough so only Luke could hear. "Careful. Keep talking like that and people will think you care."

He paused.

Just for half a second.

Then he smirked, just as soft. "And what if I do?"

I held his gaze, heartbeat doing something stupid and loud in my chest. "Then you'd lose."

He straightened, breaking the moment, gesturing toward the table. "Play the game, Maddie."

I did.

This time, the ball rolled clean. Sank perfectly.

I grinned. "Beginner's luck."

Luke shook his head, amused. "You're impossible."

"Funny," I said, stepping past him. "That's exactly what I was going to say about you."

Around us, the room buzzed with laughter, music, half-empty cups, Henry and Sophia lost in each other, Maya arguing with Josh about literally nothing.

Maya dropped dramatically onto the arm of the sofa, staring at the ceiling like it had personally betrayed her.

"This is officially the worst party ever," she declared. "Please remind me to never, ever come to Jack's parties again."

Josh snorted, lining up another cup on the beer pong table. "Oh my God, aren't you being dramatic, woman?"

Silence.

Maya turned her head slowly. Too slowly.

"If you ever call me woman again," she said very calmly, "I will sincerely remove your balls."

Josh blinked. "But... my balls are your balls."

Henry choked on his drink.

I burst out laughing just as Maya fixed Josh with the deadest stare I had ever seen. "I'm not talking about the ones on the table."

Josh visibly swallowed.

"Okay," he said quickly. "Message received. Respect restored."

The room cracked up, and Maya finally rolled her eyes, pushing herself up. "I need a drink that doesn't taste like regret."

"I'll get you one," Josh said immediately, far too eager. "Upstairs has the good stuff."

She narrowed her eyes. "This better not be a trap."

"It's always a trap," he admitted cheerfully, already heading for the stairs.

Maya sighed. "God help me."
And followed him anyway.

Henry glanced at his phone, then at Sophia. "Hey... it's getting late. I should probably walk you home."

Sophia smiled, soft and warm, fingers lacing with his. "I'd like that."

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Josh called from the stairs.

Henry shot him a look. "Then I guess we're just holding hands and talking about our feelings."

"Disgusting," Maya yelled back.

A few minutes later, the house felt quieter. Different. Like the party had thinned out and left only echoes behind.

Which was how I realized it was just me and Luke.

Again.

The snooker table sat between us like a familiar battlefield. Luke leaned over it, taking his shot, sleeves rolled up, jaw set in that focused way that made him forget the rest of the world existed.

"Your move," he said.

I picked up my cue, circling the table. "You know, without everyone here, it's almost peaceful."

"Don't get used to it," he replied. "You thrive on chaos."

"That's rude."

"That's accurate."

I lined up my shot. Missed—barely.

Luke winced. "Oof. You rushed it."

"I did not rush it."

"You absolutely did."

I straightened, pointing the cue at him. "You distract me on purpose."

He smiled, slow and unapologetic. "Maybe."

I froze. "Wait—what?"

He shrugged, sinking another ball with irritating ease. "You're more fun when you're flustered."

"Oh, you are insufferable."

"And yet," he said, stepping closer as he passed me, "you keep playing."

My heart did that stupid little skip again. I hated that.

I turned, bumping his shoulder on purpose. "You're only winning because you're smug."

"I'm winning because I'm better."

"Say that again."

"I'm better."

I took my shot immediately—clean, sharp, perfect. The ball dropped.

I grinned. "Beginner's luck."

Luke laughed under his breath, shaking his head. "You're impossible."

"Funny," I said, leaning my cue against the table, stepping just a little closer than necessary. "That's what people say about you."

For a moment, neither of us moved. The music upstairs drifted faint and muffled, the house humming around us like it was holding its breath.

Then Luke cleared his throat, stepping back. "Next round."

I smiled to myself as I chalked the cue.

Luke leaned over the table again, lining up his shot like nothing in the world mattered more than that stupid white ball.

I watched him for a second too long.

"So," I said casually, way too casually, "are you ever going to take your shot on someone?"

He paused. Just a fraction. Enough that I noticed.

"On someone?" He glanced at me sideways.

I nodded, pretending to study the table. "Yeah. You know. A someone. Like... Victoria."

He snorted, straightened up, and rolled his eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck. "Oh my God. Victoria."

I laughed. "What? That reaction didn't scream 'no' as loudly as you think it did."

"There is nothing going on," he said, firm. "Me and Victoria are never going to happen."

"Never?" I echoed, eyebrow lifting. "That's a strong word."

"I don't like her," he added, sharper this time.

I held up my hands. "Okay. Noted. Loud and clear. I won't ask again."

He shot the ball, sinking it neatly. Then, without looking at me, he said, "You're absolutely going to ask again."

I grinned. "Maybe."

I circled the table, cue tapping lightly against my palm. "I'm just saying—summer break is almost here. You could invite her to the pool. Or the beach. Or throw one of those summer parties. You do have a pool."

He turned to face me fully now. "And what makes you think I want to invite her anywhere?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. You're... different around her."

His brows knit together. "Different how?"

"Less grumpy," I teased. "Less like you're silently judging everyone's life choices."

"That's just false," he said.

"Completely true."

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Maddie, everyone hates her."

"I know," I said. "But that doesn't really stop people when they like someone."

His gaze lingered on me for a second too long. Something unreadable flickered there.

"And besides," I added, softer now, "if you like her, you should just go for it."

He broke eye contact first, turning back to the table. "I don't."

"Okay," I said easily. "Then forget I said anything."

We played on, but the rhythm had shifted. Our teasing softened, edged with something warmer. Every time he brushed past me, every time our hands almost collided over the cue chalk, it felt... charged.

I leaned in for my shot, intentionally close this time. "You're distracted."

He smirked. "By what?"

"By me," I said without thinking.

He froze.

Then he laughed, low and quiet. "You wish."

"Do I?" I shot back, sinking the ball.

He stared at the table, shaking his head. "You're trouble."

"And yet," I said, stepping back, meeting his eyes, "you keep playing."

For a moment, neither of us moved. The party noise upstairs faded even more, like the world had narrowed down to green felt, scattered balls, and the space between us.

Then Luke cleared his throat. "Your turn."

I smiled.

Game on.

We'd barely reset the balls when a shadow fell across the table.

"I've been watching for a while," a guy said, leaning a hip against the edge like he belonged there. "Mind if I play?"

I glanced up, cue still in my hand. He was tall, confident in that effortless way boys at parties liked to be. Smiling like he already expected a yes.

Before I could answer, he added, "Wow. For a girl, you've got a really nice hand. You really know how to play."

I lifted an eyebrow.

At the exact same time, Luke and I said, "For a girl?"

The guy blinked, then laughed awkwardly. "Oh—no, no, that's not what I meant. I mean—uh—for someone. Just... someone. Not trying to be misogynistic. That came out wrong."

Luke didn't smile. "Yeah," he said flatly. "It did."

The guy winced. "Sorry, man."

I shrugged. "Well. Thanks. I think."

He nodded quickly, clearly trying to recover. "I'm Dylan."

"Cool," I said. "Maddie. This is Luke."

"I know," Dylan said immediately, eyes flicking between us. "Everyone knows you. Both of you, actually. You're kind of... popular."

Luke snorted quietly.

Dylan tilted his head. "So—you're dating, right?"

Luke and I looked at each other.

"No—" I started.

Luke smirked. "Why? You want us to be?"

Dylan laughed, but there was something tight about it. "I'd actually prefer you not to."

I frowned at Luke, elbowing him lightly. "We're not," I clarified. "We're just friends."

"Good," Dylan said quickly. "That's cool. Really cool."

He leaned closer to the table, closer to me. "So, Maddie—want to play doubles? Or maybe just you and me?"

Luke's cue tapped sharply against the floor.

"She's mid-game," he said. "With me."

Dylan glanced at him, then back at me. "Yeah, but she looks like she could use a challenge."

I smiled politely. "I'm good, thanks."

He didn't take the hint.

"So, do you come to parties like this a lot?" he asked. "You seem... different from most girls here."

Luke exhaled through his nose.

I answered anyway, because that was who I was. "Sometimes. Depends on the party."

"See, I knew it," Dylan said. "You're not like the others."

Luke finally looked up at him. "You've known her for five minutes."

Dylan laughed. "Doesn't take long to notice things."

I shot Luke a look. Stop it. Then back to Dylan. "We were actually in the middle of something."

"Right," Dylan said, though he didn't move. "Maybe after?"

"Maybe not," Luke cut in smoothly.

Dylan's smile faltered. "You sure you're not dating?"

Luke stepped closer to the table, close enough that his shoulder brushed mine. "Positive."

Something about the way he said it—firm, possessive, almost daring—made my stomach flip.

Dylan raised his hands. "Okay, okay. I get it. I'll leave you two to it."

He lingered a second longer, eyes on me. "Nice playing, Maddie."

Then he walked off.

The room felt quieter after.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. "You didn't have to scare him off."

Luke looked at me, jaw tight. "I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"Maybe he deserved it."

I smirked. "Jealous?"

He scoffed, turning back to the table. "Please."

I leaned over to take my shot, deliberately slow. "You didn't like him."

"I didn't like the comment."

"Mhm."

I sank the ball cleanly.

Luke stared at the table, then muttered, "Your turn again."

I smiled, heart beating a little faster than it should have.