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and grinned, revealing a row of chocolate teeth. "These brownies are amazing," he mumbled.
          "You can thank the bakery counter," Michael said.
          Aaron chuckled and took another bite.
          "Are you ready to shoot some eight-ball?" Michael asked. He stood and walked over to his custom-made, tournament-size table. "I always say, if you want to feel normal, do something normal."
          "Okay," Aaron said, wiping his mouth and hands with a napkin. "What's eight-ball?"
          "Don't tell me you've never played pool before," Michael said as he filled the rack with balls.
          Aaron didn't say anything.
           "Well, it's time you learned," Michael said.
          Aaron came over and picked up the glossy cue ball, then rolled it across the table's smooth blood-red baize. It careened off three cushions and came to rest inches from his hand. He marveled at the mysterious physics at work and thought of the pioneering mathematicians who wrote the first theorems defining it.
          Suddenly a different image popped into Aaron's head.
          "Shit," he said – a word meant for himself, but accidentally spoken out loud.
          "Pardon?" Michael said.
          "Oh, sorry," Aaron said. "I just remembered something important I forgot to do." He searched his pockets for his phone, but it was missing. He figured he must have dropped it back at the cannery.
          "Uh ... Michael?" he said. "May I use your phone?"
          Michael nodded. "It's in my jacket, there on the chair."
          Aaron found the phone and walked over to the kitchen to make a call.
    ---
          Willy lay on his bed at home, trying to read. His phone rang with an unfamiliar ringtone, but he picked up anyway.
          "Willy, it's Aaron."
          Willy instantly sat up, dropping his book. "Where the bleeding hell are you?" he said. "I've been looking all over creation for you. Whose number is this?"
          "I – uh ... I'm at a friend's house," Aaron said, glancing at Michael.
          "Why didn't you text me back?" Willy demanded. "Do you even know I came down to the cannery to see you? Like you asked me to?"
          "I lost my phone and – wait ... You came? When? Was I there?"
          "Bloody hell yes, you were there!" Willy said, growing more upset as they talked. He grabbed a pencil from his night table and twirled it nervously through his fingers. "Who's your new friend?"
          "Did you see what happened to me?" Aaron asked.
          "Of course I did, you wanker! I saw the whole blasted thing! Why aren't you at home?"
          "I – uh, I got sidetracked."
          Willy paused for a moment, close to losing it. "So, who's your new friend?"
          "Oh, he's just a man I met at the park. He's –"
          "A man? What man? And you're at his house? At night? Are you off your trolley?"
          "His name's Michael. He helped me after the –"
          "Good for him. So you're headed home now, right?"
          "Well – uh ... not yet. We're starting a game of pool. You should see his loft, Willy."
          " Damn it , Aaron. Who the hell does this Michael guy think he is?"
          " Hey! " Aaron snapped with sudden viciousness. His temper was short after what he'd been through tonight. "I don't have to take crap from you or anyone else, okay? I'll explain everything tomorrow on the way to school – and in the mean time, you can just chill the hell out! "
          Willy felt like he'd been struck by a fist and was unable to speak for a few moments.
          "What's with you, Aaron?" he said at last, his voice as empty as he felt. "It's me ... Willy ... your best friend, remember? Did you at least call your mom? She's worried sick, you know. I was over there earlier, and she's not doing too well."
          Aaron had forgotten about his mother, but he could no longer be bothered with the trifles of family life. After