It had started as one of those nights that wasn’t supposed to be anything special — just you and Ashton, your best friend since forever, meeting up for drinks and games at a bar arcade. The place was loud, neon-lit, packed with music and laughter. Ashton was his usual self: loud, overconfident, already slightly tipsy, and absolutely determined to win every game he played, even if it was something as simple as pool. You were quieter, but he balanced that out, the way he always did. That’s why nights like this worked — his chaos and your calm made a weird kind of sense.

You’d been midway through your third round of pool, drink in one hand, cue in the other, when Ashton decided to ‘help’ by slapping you on the back mid-shot. The crack of impact made you flinch, the cue ball ricocheted, and one of his solid-colored balls dropped clean into a pocket. Ashton doubled over laughing, wheezing as you stared at the table in disbelief. “Guess I’m just naturally talented, man,” he said through laughter, earning a glare that only made him laugh harder.

That’s when you heard it — a wave of familiar voices from the bar. You turned and saw a group approaching, a mix of guys and girls, all carrying drinks, already buzzing with the ease of a Friday night. You recognized one of them — Amy, someone you’d met a few times through Ashton. And right beside her, walking with that easy confidence you’d never forgotten, was Jenna Ortega.

Jenna greeted Ashton first, her arm slinging casually around his shoulders as she gave him a quick side hug. Her smile was small but mischievous, like she was already in on a joke no one else had heard yet. You stood near the pool table, cue still in hand, trying not to look too interested as she peeled away from Ashton and sauntered straight toward you. Her eyes met yours briefly, that same glint of teasing recognition flashing there before she reached out and ruffled your hair.

“Still terrible at pool, huh?”

She murmured, voice playful. You didn’t answer — mostly because you couldn’t. She hopped up onto the pool table like she owned it, ignoring the stares from a few strangers nearby. Her legs swung lazily as Amy brought her a drink, and Jenna took it with a small, grateful grin before turning her attention right back to you.

Jenna had always been like this — the kind of person who blurred the line between friendly and flirty without ever fully crossing it. You’d seen it before. At a house party months ago, she’d spent the entire night next to you — her legs draped across your lap, her fingers brushing through your hair as if it was the most natural thing in the world. At first, you’d thought she wanted something from you, that there was an intent behind every small touch. But nothing ever happened. She just liked to play.

Now, as Ashton laughed across the room with the others, completely distracted, Jenna’s focus was entirely on you again. She reached forward and caught your hoodie collar between her fingers, tugging you gently closer until you were standing between her knees. The warmth of her body hit you instantly, the faint scent of her perfume mixing with the sharp sweetness of her drink. Her eyes sparkled as she tilted her glass toward you.

“Try it.”

She said softly, pressing the rim toward your lips. Her thumb brushed the side of your jaw as she pulled the drink back, her smirk deepening at your flustered expression. Then she went right back to twirling a strand of your hair, completely at ease — like this was just another Friday night for her.

“Is it good?”