Bridget brushed the tangles out and looked in the mirror. The pretty face that looked back at her was worth a bit of pain. It might not be worth the bedwetting and partial incontinence, but that would take care of its self when she got revenge with the terrorist. “I’m liking the long hair too much.”
“Whatever.”
“Feel like breakfast now?” asked Bridget.
“Not really.” Ami rubbed her stomach. “I’m still satisfied from that pizza we gorged ourselves on last night.”
“Well, maybe if we go downstairs the pool table will finally be free.” Bridget always had looked at the pool table with longing whenever she was escorted past the recreation area at the prison. They hadn’t let her mix with the other prisoners when she was incarcerated. She had spent most of the twelve years on death row alone.
“Sure, sounds fun, Angela,” Ami said.
They walked to the dorm’s rec room and sure enough, it was empty. The clock on the wall showed six o’clock, so most everyone else was in bed.
Ami put the triangle on the table and began arranging balls. “I haven’t played pool since they dragged us all to some bowling alley after graduation so we couldn’t go to drunken parties.”
“That actually sounds fun,” Bridget said.
“Well you wake up wet no matter if you go to bed drunk or not,” Ami said.
Bridget felt her face flush. She looked around to see if anyone had heard. “You promised you wouldn’t tell.”
“Relax,” said Ami. “No one’s here. I’m not going to let anyone know your secret. Besides, you helped me out with my problem yesterday.”
Bridget chalked her cue and aimed at the cue ball. “Well sorry. I guess I was just paranoid.” She pulled back her cue and broke. She smiled when the balls struck with a resounding crack.
“I guess you’re stripes,” said Ami.
Bridget sent four other balls into the pockets before finally missing the ten ball.