• Ride the Rails was packed tight the first night I went, and it was on a whole other scale than the pool halls I was used to. Ride the Rails had Big A's beat by 10 to 1. Heh, but only in the number of tables. The moment I walked into RtR, the first thing I noticed was how quiet it was, even with hoards of people there. There was plenty of chatter, but no music. No tunes. And while thats all nice and fine, I could pick out individual voices in the din of the room, pick up on conversations on the other side of the hall.
    I wanted dulled sense and cigarette smoke. Not family friendly red-neck tonkies.
    Jenny pulled me through the crowd, however, to take up a table in the fairly empty back row. She knew about my preference for having my back to the portal. Y'know, just in case.
    I smiled a bit as she grabbed a couple of cues off the wall, handed one to me and chalked hers up.

    By the time we were half way through our third game, all the teenies had cleared out. I was starting to loosen up too, because now there weren't as many people. And now that the minors had gone, folks were starting to drag out their cigarettes and lighters. Jenny had had hers out, but that didn't really count. She was completely barmy and smoked menthes.
    11h00 hit and the heavier music started. I sat on the edge of a neighbouring table, watching Jenny play a game of stakes against some poor sap who thought he could win some easy bucks against a couple of girls.
    I dragged deeply from the cigarette that was in my mouth, exhaling through my nose. An electric thrill ran along my spine at the comforting feeling, the heavy smell of the reds I was surely getting addicted to. The heavy bass of some band thrummed through me, fuelling the bubble of excitement that built in my throat. I reached to my right, stubbing out my cigarette in the ashtray I'd stolen from one of the tables that sat along the back wall.
    It felt good to be out like this again. To just be amongst the heavy atmosphere, the pounding music. The sweat and acrid smoke. It was escape to be like this, it was freedom. No one really knew me, my name, my history, my face. I could be anyone here. That was what I loved so much. To watch people walk in and have them just look at me. Not because they knew, but just for the sake of looking. Just the way they looked at everyone else.

    "Hey."
    I coiled like a spring at the sound. My gaze snapped left, drawn by the voice.
    He stood there with a lazy arrogance, like he hadn't just ruined my lethargy, and I saw as his gaze raked over me. I felt a small sneer crawl over my face. It felt like a boulder had dropped into my gut at his scrutiny. I knew he wasn't looking because he knew, but it was as unpleasant as if he had.
    I knew what I looked like. At 6'1", I was all sharp joints and gangly limbs. Rangy muscles and awkward posture. My hair was too long now and stuck up in messy hunks around my head. I looked like I'd stayed in bed too long after my shower. The colour didn't even help, too red to be black but definitely darker than brown.
    I'd been mistaken for a boy more times throughout my life than I could care to count. I'd thought I had decent sized tits — but apparently if they aren't spilling out of your shirt, you're not really a girl. And I knew I had wide, female hips — despite being the size of a string bean.
    He gave me a little crooked smile and I crossed my arms over my stomach. It was defensive posture, I knew that, but that smile gave me the sensation that he knew. And I didn't like that. In fact — I hated that. The sneer on my face widened and my upper lip pulled back so I could bare my teeth at him.
    The ******** actually had the audacity to throw his head back and laugh at me. "I'm not here to be mean, baby. There's no need for hostility, I promise."
    I was stunned — baby?
    …I hated him. Immediately and deeply. I saw Jenny turn to look at me from behind him, and suddenly it bothered me that he was in between me and my friend — and since I was sitting on the table that was flush against the wall, that put him in between me and the exit as well.
    "I just want to have your name," he murmured, that lazy smile still on his face.
    I wanted to spit at him. "Well thats too bad then, Skippy," I snarled. "Because I'm not giving it away."
    My eyes were locked with his, and the gray-blue iris seemed to swell with each second. I vaguely heard someone's cue stick clatter against the edge of a table before clattering to the ground, and the next thing I know the almost physical force that had kept my eyes glued to his snapped — as he was not so gently pulled out of the way by Jenny tearing at his shoulder so she could wrap her hand around my wrist and pull me away from the wall.
    She turned on him, my wrist still in her clutches, and pointed a manicured nail in his face. "Leave her the ******** alone, Nick."
    I frowned, and looked at Jenny as if I'd never seen her before. I knew that this was her usual haunt, but I didn't think that she'd actually know anyone.
    'Nick' held up his hands in mock surrender under her onslaught, but that weasel-y smile was still etched on his face — I wanted to wipe it off with my fist. "Chill, Jenny, chill," he said. "You never bring anyone out to play with you anymore — I wanted to meet your new little friend."
    Jenny laughed at him. "Yeah right, you cockroach. Leave Mav alone, plain and simple."
    I almost groaned aloud. She'd said my goddamn name, and I could feel his stare rivet back onto me. That sleepy smile turned into a grin and Jenny started pulling me towards the door before I could do anything to fix what she'd done — like knock him out.

    We left Ride the Rails that night and didn't go back for quite some time, but the echo of what he said still followed me.
    "I'll see you later, Maverick!"