I had nothing to do that night, so I went down to the pool hall.
I was messing around with old arcade games. Two pretty girls approached me and asked me if I wanted to play pool with them.
They were younger than me, much younger, 19 or 20. That wasn't unusual. It was a college town, and the under-21s gravitated towards arcades and hookah lounges for their night life.
I was a grad student, taking my comfort in the games of yesteryear. I wore my going out clothes--boot cut jeans and a button down shirt that downplayed my love handles.
One of them, a thin blonde woman in a sleeveless top and low cut jeans, introduced herself as Beth. Her friend, a zaftig brunette dressed in the height of pop punk fashion, was Eva.
"I'm Kinney," I said.
We shot pool. I wasn't very good, but neither were they. As we made idle conversation, I got a persistent sense that they were flirting with me.
And not in just a fun, playful way.
Beth was doing most of the talking. She'd end every sentence with a flutter of her eyelashes and a mysterious smile that showed the tip of her tongue.
Eva would let me catch her looking at me while I was turning around.
The longer it went on, the more I was convinced it wasn't my imagination.
The game ended. I put my pool cue on the rack and thanked them for the game.
I noticed that Beth was standing there with an expectant smile, while Eva stood nearby looking aloof. Neither of them seemed to acknowledge that I was going anywhere.
They said their co-op was close and that I should follow them there. Before I could formulate an objection, we were already walking. It was a warm, quiet night.
When we got to the co-op, it seemed deserted. A living room full of empty couches.