The blonde’s smile is tempered with a faint line of concern, as if this isn’t the way the script is supposed to read. When the beau congratulates the brunette, she sighs loudly, although whether to attract attention or comment on the shot is unclear. The brunette shoots again, and this time she uses force like an exclamation mark on an unspoken challenge. The crack of the white hitting the orange ball is hard, sharp, angry. The orange clunks as it hits the back of the pocket before dropping in, and the white rolls to the head circle of the table, coquettish and playful. She walks around to the break position, takes careful aim, all trace of violence gone. Like a piston, her hand draws back, and pushes forward, making contact with the white again. The white ball rolls softly, pushing across the featureless green plain of the table, intent on its target. In what seems like slow-motion, it kisses the green ball. The white loses power, and as it rolls to a stop about three inches from. "Listen, honey. I think we need to talk about last night." Sure thing, Mom." Honey, I know I must have shocked you, and I'm sorry for what I did."I cut her off and said, "Mom... Please. It was great. I mean better than great." No, let me finish. It was wrong. So very, very wrong." She said and then continued with how she had a weak moment. Blaming it on the punch, missing Dad, and even how I made her feel inside after our first kiss."I know this is hard, baby. However, what we did has to be a one-time thing." I understand, Mom," I said, feeling my heart sink.But all wasn't a total loss. My day at school had turned around when the girl I liked came up and asked me to go to the school dance with her. Without thinking, I agreed. It wasn't until I got home that I realized I didn't know shit about dancing.So back to Mom, I went and explained what happened. Mom, of course, was happy for me and told me that she could teach me. So after dinner, that night Mom put on a short black dress and.
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