Chapter Eighteen

Elle

Life was so different, so new. Every day I was learning the true meaning of common phrases. Things like ‘walking on air,’ or ‘lovesick’. Even my new favorite, ‘opposites attract’. That phrase was so true. Nate and I couldn’t be more opposite. Yet, we fit, like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

In addition to learning the true meaning of words. I was also learning new things about Nate. Every day I made him tell me something I didn’t know about him.

At first, he balked, but finally, he opened up a bit. He started out with the easy stuff first. Favorite color cobalt blue. Favorite dessert vanilla Ice cream. I already knew that one so I made him come up with something else.

He thought for a long moment then said, “Okay, my favorite video game is Halo.”

I swear you’d have thought I’d just gotten him to admit to loving the color pink. All I could do was shake my head. The boy was hopeless.

But as the next few weeks sped by like a sled on ice, I learned that Nate was a little deeper than I thought. We discussed our favorite books and why. His was ‘Cannery Row’ by Steinbeck.

“Mainly because the characters are so flawed yet overcome their flaws to be special. I read it in tenth grade for a book report, both it and its sequel ‘Sweet Thursday’. I don’t know, the characters just struck a chord. You know?”

I’ve got to admit that I was a little surprised. I’d always figured him for a sports geek, or maybe a secret sci-fi nerd. But Cannery Row?

I guess my guy had more layers than I gave him credit for.

We talked movies and we talked music. We talked about the people around us, teachers, friends, enemies. We talked about homework and chores. But most of all, we talked.

We talked, and we touched. I couldn’t not be touching him. His hand, his arm. His lips with mine. It was like a physical addiction. The world didn’t feel right unless I was touching him. When we were apart, it felt like a piece of me was missing.

So of course, things couldn’t stay wonderful.

It was a Monday afternoon. A little over two weeks since we had stopped pretending and my world couldn’t get any better. Nate was having his double order of meatloaf, of course, We were sitting at our regular lunch table when Jeanna asked me. “So you want to get together this Saturday? I thought we could hit the mall.”

I instinctively looked over at Nate, raising an eyebrow, silently asking if we had plans. Hoping we did.

“Hey, why are you asking him for permission?” Jeanna demanded. Her brow was furrowed and I could see the anger building up inside of her, ready to explode. It’d been building for weeks.

“I just wanted to see if we had plans,” I said without really thinking it through.

Jeanna threw her arms up in the air. “Plans? Plans? Why doesn’t he have to check with me to see if we’ve got plans. Remember, we’re best friends. I’ll still be here long after he’s gone.”

“Jeanna!” I gasped.

“What?” she said but I could see the guilt in her eyes.

Jimmy just shook his head and said, “Even I know enough not to say stuff like that.”

“Hey, that’s alright,” Nate said. “I was meaning to talk to you Elle, about this weekend. I’m working both days. I’ve got to cover the gym. So I was wondering if you wanted to go out on Friday. Maybe a golf rematch?”

I shot Jeanna my best evil stare. As if this was somehow her fault. Now, I’d have to go two whole days without seeing him.

She looked back at me with a steady gaze, no way was she taking the fall for this one.

“Sure,” I said to Nate. “I could give you some lessons before we get started.”

He laughed and just like that the tension was gone. Nothing ever bothered this man. Most guys would have been angry at their girlfriend’s best friends sticking her nose into stuff. But not Nate.

“So Saturday? The Mall?” Jeanna asked.

I shrugged my shoulders, “Okay,” I said but I wasn’t happy about it. I hadn’t forgiven her for saying that terrible thing about me and Nate not lasting. But we’d work on it that Saturday.

“Wow, someone sure has a busy social calendar,” Jimmy said with a smile.

“Yes, well not everyone can be as popular as me, they try, but they just can’t get there.”

Everyone laughed and we were good again.

By the time Friday evening came around, my butterflies were jumping like they were on a trampoline. Even after all this time, two weeks, I still got nervous. The - I can’t wait - kind of nervous. Like a kid getting ready to open their birthday presents nervous. They know it is going to be great. The only question is by how much.

Nate was a few minutes early, and somehow, Mom got to the door before me. He shot me a quick smile and said hello to Mom. She looked at him in his flannel shirt hanging open over a tight black T-shirt and shook her head. I mean the boy was hot. Even my mother could see that.

She gave me a strange glance and I knew immediately that she was telling me to remember our conversation. I tried not to blush as I quickly grabbed his arm and got him out of there before she could say something I would regret for the rest of my life.

The sky was cloudy and a cool wind blew in from the coast. We’d barely gotten into his truck. Me sitting in the middle of course, when the skies opened up and it began to rain.

“No golfing,” Nate said with a shake of his head.

“I’ll have to beat you again some other time.”

He laughed and put the truck into gear. “Let’s see, there is, a movie, bowling, the pool hall, the arcade, or we could go to dinner. Unless you’ve got something else you’d like to do?” he added with a twinkle in his eyes that made me smile and my insides turn soft.

Oh, there were things, Things that would lead to more and more. But not now, I told myself. it was still way too early in our relationship, but that day was coming, I could see it now. In fact, I was beginning to think it was coming a lot sooner than I had planned.

“You mentioned a pool hall, here? In town?” Public. If we went somewhere dark and quiet, there was no telling what might end up happening.

“Yeah, over on Fifth,” he said. “Next to the shoe factory, where they make those moccasins.

He had completely lost me. “You’ve only lived here six months. How is it you know about these places that I’ve never heard of.”

“We travel in different circles,” he said with a smile as he pulled away from the house. “Stick with me kid, and I’ll show you the dark, sordid underbelly of San Jose.”

“Oh, that sounds attractive,” I said with a mock cringe.

He laughed, “It might not be attractive, but it is real.”

I didn’t really know what he meant by that, but fine, It really didn’t matter, not as long as I was with him. He could have taken me anywhere, and I’d have been fine.

Before we got there I squeezed his arm and said, “Maybe we should put a little bet on who wins. You know, to make it interesting.”

He glanced over at me with a strange look. “Sure, what you got in mind?”

My insides turned over because I knew exactly what he was thinking. That fiery stare of his laid it out pretty plain.

Swallowing hard, I shook my head. “Get your mind out of the gutter. I was thinking something interesting. You know. Like who gets to pick where we go to dinner. Important stuff. Plus bragging rights of course.”

He laughed. “Believe me, what I was thinking sounds way more interesting. But sure, if that’s what you want.”

Of course, when we stepped into the pool hall I was sorely disappointed. Not one thing was like the movie ‘The Hustler’. The place was well lit, smelled of chalk, with sixteen pool table laid out in a grid. The green felt, pristine and inviting.

Men and more than a few women were playing pool. The sharp crack of ball on ball echoing trough the room.

No seedy characters ready to stab you in the back if you said the wrong thing. No thick cloud of smoke hanging over everything. No deep shadows hiding secrets.

Just a large room with a lot of pool tables.

“Hey, Nate,” the old man behind the counter said, shooting me a quizzical look as he handed Nate a long, thin case.

“Hi Tony,” he answered as took the case and a rack of balls. “Put it on my tab.”

“Sure kid,” he said as he gave me a quick smile.

“Who was that?” I asked.

“Tony,” he answered with a smirk as he dumped the balls onto the table and started to remove a two piece pool cue from the case.

“What’s that?” I asked as my stomach began to fall, why did I think I had been suckered into something.

“A pool cue,” he said as he tried to hide a grin. “If you don’t have your own, you can get one off the wall.”

“My own? Who has their own pool cue?”

“Doesn’t everyone?” he said, and this time, the grin couldn’t be held back.

I grit my teeth as I retrieved a cue from the wall. Making sure it was straight and the tip was good. I knew what I was doing. He was in for a surprise, Jeanna had a pool table in her dad’s basement. We’d played like six or seven times. Unlike miniature golf. I was ready for him.

Of course, I was an idiot. He kindly let me break, then stepped in and proceeded to rattle off seven straight balls. Making the cue ball curl and twist like it was on a string. Each ball falling into the pocket with a solid thump. As if it were coming home and knew it belonged there. The only thing that saved me was the eight ball was blocked. So I would at least get a chance.

He knocked the eight free, setting it up. Then stepped back and waved at the table for me. I shot him my mother’s look of disappointment. The one that let him know I was not pleased. He smirked and stepped out of my way.

I bent over the table, lining up my shot, and missed of course. It was still early and I hadn’t gotten warmed up.

“Here, let me show you something,” he said as he came up behind me. My first reaction was to tell him that I didn’t need to be mansplained to. But then I caught a whiff of leather and sandalwood and I felt the heat of his body behind me and immediately forgot what I was supposed to be doing.

He gently leaned me forward and then used his long fingers to arrange mine around the cue. All I could feel was him bent over me. Leaning into me as his other hand moved my hand further back on the cue.

“There, try that,” he whispered into my ear. His hot breath tickling and caressing me. I forgot where I was and had to force myself not to push back into him.

He stepped away and I glanced over my shoulder. His smirk told me everything. He was perfectly aware of what he had just done to me. How in the world was I supposed to concentrate on pool? All I could think of was what it felt like to have him behind me like that and desperately wish for more.

I took the shot and missed. Who could blame me? I know I didn’t.

“Better luck next time,” he said as he sank the eight ball. “It looks like Mexican food tonight.”

All I could do was stare at him. My mind racing in tandem with my heart.

He racked the balls and we played again. He took pity on me, giving me two shots to his one. But still, he slaughtered me.

“How is it that you have your own pool cue and can run a tab?” I asked, unable to grasp what was going on.

He shrugged those wonderful shoulders of his and said, “Hey, before I met you I had a ton of time to kill. Back in Seattle, there was a pool hall next to the gym. If I wasn’t in one I was in the other.”

As we continued to play, I noticed two old men playing in the corner. When they were done, one of them put what looked like a couple of hundred dollar bills in a corner pocket. The other man followed behind him and pulled the bills out and stuffed them into his wallet.

“What was that all about?” I asked Nate.

He glanced over and saw what was going on. “They had a bet on the game. Not as high stakes as ours,” he added with a smile.

I looked at the no gambling sign on the wall right behind them and shook my head.

“Why did he put the money in the pocket? Why not just give it to him.”

Nate laughed. “That way, no one can testify that they saw money exchange hands. They can always say he dropped it. And the other guy can say he found it.”

I shook my head, okay, this world was a little different. “You mean there is gambling, I mean real gambling going on here?”

Nate smiled and indicated a door in the back. “There’s a big-time poker game going on back there even as we speak. Believe me, a couple of hundred on a pool game is the least of it.”

He had no sooner finished explaining things to me when the back room opened and a cloud of smoke drifted out. Followed by a short, thin man dressed in a three-piece, herringbone suit, and a gray fedora hat cocked back on his head. Counting a big wad of cash, the man looked like he’d stepped out of a Raymond Chandler novel. Or the latest run of ‘Guys and Dolls’.

I was still trying to process everything when the man looked up and caught sight of Nate.

“Nathan Clark,” he said as he sauntered towards us. “As I live and breath. The boys and I were just talking about you. Wondering when you were going to sign with Charlie and start fighting as a pro.”

My stomach fell. How did Nate know men like this? The man reminded me of a bantam rooster. All strut and no beak. A red nose that looked like it had been broken more than once and a gnarled ear that reminded me of a toasted hazelnut told me he used to be a boxer.

“Not happening, Blackie,” Nate said. “I told you, I’ve got better things to do than let you guys get your jolly’s watching me have my head pounded in.”

The man laughed, then looked over at me appraisingly. I felt my skin crawl. But before it got too bad, he pulled his stare away and smiled at Nate.

“So, tell me,” he said, “is Johnson ready. Does he punch as hard as they say.”

Nate shook his head. “You know the rules. What happens during the sparring sessions stays there. You have to come by the gym and watch, just like everyone else.”

“You sure,? the man said as he peeled a hundred-dollar bill off his stash and held it out, raising a questioning eyebrow at Nate.

“Sorry, Blackie, no can do,” he said as he started pulling balls from the table’s pockets.

The man seemed to accept Nate’s decision and returned the bill to its friends.

“Okay, Okay, can’t blame a man for trying to get an edge.”

“No sir,” Nate said with a little more respect than I thought the man deserved.

“Well, see you around kid, tell your uncle I said hi.”

“Sure thing, Blackie,” Nate replied.

We both watched the man turn and leave. I made sure to wait until he was out of range before I hissed at Nate, “Who was that?”

“Blackie Turner,” Nate said as if he were as well known as Johnny Depp.

“And he was trying to get information from you. About that other boxer, Johnson.”

Nate smiled and nodded as he started to rerack the balls.

“But, why didn’t you just tell him to get lost? I mean, you almost sounded as if you liked the guy.”

Nate shrugged his shoulder. “Sure, Blackie’s cool. Fair, if he’s going to cheat you, it will be within the bounds of fair play.”

“No,” I said, “There was something else.”

Nate glanced over at me for a second, holding his gaze, then slowly shook his head. Probably wondering about my naivete.

“Let’s just say Blackie has friends. The kind of friends you don’t want to upset.” Then he put a finger next to his nose and pushed it to the side. It took me at least three seconds to figure out what he meant.

“You mean mafia?” I hissed. Unbelievable, my boyfriend knew people, who knew people in the mafia. Who was this boy and where did he come from?

Nate laughed. “I don’t know. But the word is. You do not welch on a debt to Blackie Turner without getting your legs broke.”

I stood there staring at him.

He smiled and came over to give me a hug. “Hey, don’t worry about it. That’s their world, you and I have ours.”

I continued to stare at him until he bent down and kissed my neck. My knees grew weak and my heart fluttered.

“I think it is time for another lesson,” he whispered in my ear. Suddenly strange men in three-piece suits disappeared from my world. All I could think about was the man holding me.