by Drew Hayes
“Good play,” Nick complimented her as a ten was laid onto her queen, giving her twenty.
“The advice helps,” Mary replied without looking at him. This was the first time they had spoken all night. He took her meaning quite clearly.
“Glad to help,” Nick lied, turning his attention back to the game. He was almost immediately interrupted again.
“Whoa,” Vince said as he came up to the table. “That’s quite a stack you’ve acuminated.”
“Well, I am from Vegas, after all,” Nick said.
“And eighteen,” Vince countered. “So you couldn’t have hit the casinos. How’d you get so good at blackjack?”
“Chill, Vince, it’s a game of luck,” the pink-haired girl interrupted. There was a beat of silence as Nick could actually watch the word luck leave her lips and enter Vince’s head. Once there it plunked around a few times before finally coming to rest in a spot labeled “natural conclusion.”
“Yeah,” Vince said as his eyes narrowed. “You’re right, Sasha; it is a game of luck.” The sense of accusation wasn’t precisely dripping from Vince’s words, but there was definitely some accusatory condensation on them.
“So it’s Sasha? I’m Nick and this is Mary. We’re both in Melbrook with Vince. I do apologize for my good friend’s poor manners in not introducing us,” Nick said, switching into his usual affable mode and swinging the focus away from his blackjack success.
“Nice to meet you two,” Sasha said, giving a slight incline of her head.
“Sasha, would you mind grabbing us a seat at the craps table? I know we wanted to roll some dice, I just need to have a quick word with my dorm mate,” Vince said.
Sasha looked at the two of them for a moment, then shrugged and said, “Okay.” She wandered off towards the craps, but not without keeping an eye on them. That girl was sharper than she wanted to let on. Nick could respect that.
“Nick,” Vince whispered harshly as soon as Sasha was gone. “Do you really think it’s a good idea to be doing... what you’re doing out in the open like this?”
“You mean winning?” Nick asked innocently.
“I mean using an unfair advantage.”
“Hold your horses there, hoss,” Nick said in equally low tones. “First off, this isn’t even real money, so stay off the soapbox. Secondly, I’m not doing what you think I’m doing. I’m winning because I know how to play blackjack well. There are some basic strategies any kid who grew up around a city of gambling knows. So re-fucking-lax and go worry about your date instead of your dorm mate.”
“It isn’t a date,” Vince snapped immediately. “And... I’m sorry. You’re right. I guess I was just worried because... well, the whole secret being a big portion of your grade thing. You really haven’t been using?”
“Ask Mary,” Nick replied. “See if I’ve focused or breathed deep even once tonight.”
Vince looked at Mary, who didn’t turn toward him but shook her head to the negative anyway. “Sorry,“ Vince said once more. “I guess that whole speech and a day of fighting has gotten me paranoid.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Nick assured him. “If I were you I’d think the same thing. Now go catch up to your girl before someone else does.”
“She’s not my girl,” Vince said, but he departed from their table and made his way over to Sasha and the craps game. Nick turned back to the blackjack table, annoyed that he had missed several hands while talking to Vince and had now lost track of the cards.
“I notice you didn’t bother to mention to him that you don’t actually need to breathe deep or close your eyes to use your talent,” Mary said softly.
“It wasn’t pertinent,” Nick defended. “After all, I’m really not doing anything.”
“You don’t consider counting cards doing anything?” Mary asked.
“Fine; I’m not doing anything that others couldn’t do with skill and practice. Besides, for all you know, I do need to shut my eyes to use my talent. Maybe that’s why I wear the sunglasses.”
“No, it isn’t,” Mary said with unfaltering certainty.
Nick was ruffled by how sure she was. It was unnerving, talking to someone he couldn’t bluff. He wanted to know more about what she could see, but was afraid of how much he would be exposing of himself. He shrugged off the fear. In for a dime, in for a dollar.
“How much do you know?” Nick asked flatly as he slid several chips out to place a bet.
“Enough,” Mary replied as she followed suit and put her own chips into play. “More than you want me to, which isn’t saying much, but less than you’re scared I do, which also isn’t saying much.”
The dealer put two cards in front of each of them, so they each paused to do a quick spot of mental math.
“Have you told anyone?” Nick asked.
“No,” Mary replied. “And I won’t, either. I’ve been hearing stuff I wasn’t supposed to all my life. I learned a long time ago it’s best if I treat it like a therapist or an attorney, with ironclad confidentiality.”
“Is that supposed to assure me?” Nick asked as he rapped knuckles against the green velvet and the dealer handed him another card. An almost instantaneous calculation flew through his head and he waved off to show he was staying.
“It’s supposed to let you know where I stand,” Mary replied, tapping her own hand as well. She went for another hit after the first then elected to stay.
“And where is that?” Nick asked as the dealer began hitting his own stack, stopping once he struck eighteen.
“As your friend,” Mary replied. “Someone you can talk to and trust. Someone who understands some of the things you’ve gone through.”
“Table has eighteen,” the deal announced. The girl to Nick’s right had already busted, so Nick was first to be compared to the dealer’s numbers.
“Nineteen,” Nick announced. To Mary, he resumed his whispering tone. “You’ll forgive me if I’m a bit reluctant to take you up on that. I’ve got trust issues.”
“No problem,” Mary whispered back. “Twenty,” she announced happily, smiling at all of the other players at the table. Both of them pulled in the chips they had won and pushed a few more out for the next round.
“I’m just saying,” Mary resumed in her soft tones. “I’m going to be in on just about everything you do anyway. I thought that since there is finally someone you can’t lie to, maybe you’d like to try talking to them. It’s not as if you have to worry about giving away something I don’t already know.”
Nick couldn’t think of a snappy comeback for this one, so instead he just checked his cards. He hated himself for realizing that Mary was right, and he hated her even more because the moment he thought it a small smirk crept onto her face.
17.
Alice was bored. She had come along to the Casino Night with the rest of her dorm, with the exception of Hershel, whom no one had seen since the beginning of the day, but the truth was she had little taste or stomach for craps. There was no nuance to it: just chunk the dice and pray for the best. Alice preferred her games more... strategic.
She stood next to Vince and the pink-haired girl he seemed to be getting along with so well - Sasha was her name, if Alice recalled correctly - as they all watched and occasionally participated in the craps game. Her poor luck on her few attempts had hardly endeared her to the game, and that, coupled with the events of the day, were all contributing to her increasingly sour mood.
Alice tried to smile and keep her facade plastered up by focusing on the positive. It wasn’t as if she had really expected to fare well in the combat trials in the first place. She could only fly, while a significant majority of the girls here had abilities that were far more fighting-based. Still, she had been downed in her first round in less than a minute by some girl with sonic blasting powers. It had hurt, and despite all the preparation she had given herself to brace for the inevitable loss, Alice had found that once the match was done, her pride was stinging a bit as well. It certainly hadn’t help
ed matters when she learned Mary had come out as top of the class. Still, Alice was an academic at heart, and being a Hero wasn’t just about how many cars you could throw in a minute. It was also about wit, resourcefulness, and intelligence, all of which Alice was confident she could use to elevate her own status. Eventually.
Alice abandoned the craps table when she heard Vince and Sasha making plans to meet for breakfast the next morning before heading off to class. They would all be spending their mornings attending their aboveground classes, but the afternoon would find them all down in the secret levels, training up on the things that really mattered. Vince and Sasha both seemed excited about what the next day would hold, which told Alice that they knew nothing of what was actually in store. She did, and she had the good sense to dread it. Alice left the two to their slowly-blooming, obvious romance and wandered across the room to find some entertainment of her own.
She passed Nick and Mary whispering in hushed tones at the blackjack table. If it had been anyone else but Mary, Alice might have lingered to see what they were discussing. With a telepath, though, there was too much risk of giving away more information than she gained. Instead Alice trudged across the room, passing by the happy faces while wearing one of her own. Eventually she found herself at the only part of the Student Union that allowed for seating without participation: the karaoke stage. Some blonde girl Alice recognized from the program was wailing her way through a pop song as Alice gently plunked down in the back. Ignoring the warbling, Alice pulled out her phone and began checking her e-mail. It was bad form to appear so antisocial in a public place, but she needed a moment to gather her thoughts and get into the right frame of mind. A few minutes by herself would be a relatively small concession for being able to mingle and socialize the rest of the night.
Alice was so caught up in actively ignoring the poor blonde on stage that she didn’t even notice when the song ended. She didn’t notice the mild applause or the announcement of the next song either. What she, along with everyone else in range of the speakers, did notice was what followed. A husky male voice vibrated across the room, breaking into the deep opening chords of a country song. Alice didn’t listen to country, and for the life of her couldn’t have told you what the song was. At that moment, though, she couldn’t hear anything else in the room. Shoving the phone hastily back into her pocket, Alice turned all of her attention to the boy – no, the man – who had pulled a stool on stage and was seated on it as he crooned into the microphone.
He was tall, that was apparent even though he was sitting. He wore a plaid button-down shirt, a small grey cowboy hat, and a pair of clearly worn-in jeans. There was something oddly familiar about his face, Alice noted, and his body was hard and lean. He was well-muscled as his half-open shirt proudly displayed, but with the flat muscle of an athlete rather than the bulky and superficial kind that body builders acquire. If Alice had to guess, which she was actively doing, she would say he was a quarterback in high school, given his physique and frame. Alice’s eyes danced around the crowd, noting their reactions to the clear improvement in entertainment.
A large chunk of the women in the karaoke’s audience were staring at this mystery man with unabashed interest, the most fervent being the blonde who had sung before him. Many of the men were trying to seem unimpressed by him and his performance, though a few who must have recognized the song were happily enjoying his rendition. As he sang, the man’s own hazel eyes swept the crowd, lingering ever-so-intentionally on the women eagerly looking up at him. They came to rest on his blonde predecessor, who looked as though she was applying all her self-control toward not letting out a squeal.
The song finished, and the man stood from his stool and took a wide bow. There was blatantly more applause than there had been for the girl, yet as the man walked down from the small platform that was serving as a stage and tipped his hat at the blonde as way of introduction, it seemed like she neither noticed nor cared.
For her part, Alice felt a bit better. Watching a gorgeous man sing had really done nothing for her, except that it had pulled her mind out of its funk and forced her to focus on something else for a while. Settling back in, she felt her problems were somewhat less pressing than they had been before, as is usually the case, and decided she would take a cue from the singing cowboy. This was an event to meet people and make connections: in other words, a social activity. That made it Alice’s home turf. She might not be able to beat everyone in combat, but there were few who could work a room like Alice Adair.
Alice rose from her seat and set off.
18.
Vince had some trouble finding Hughes Hall the next morning. In his defense, Lander was a very large campus, and he had hardly had free time to explore it. He might have gotten up a bit earlier if he had been thinking ahead, but Casino Night had gone on a lot longer than he expected, and it turned out being frozen solid had left him drained by the day’s end. On the plus side, he had won enough chips to put his name in a few raffles. He had even managed to win a clock radio. It wasn’t quite as nice as the two hundred dollar gift card Nick had won, but it was something to be happy about.
If Vince had been a bit pettier, he might have accused Nick of rigging the raffle, but given the amount of chips his sunglasses-wearing friend had turned in, it didn’t really surprise anyone when Nick’s name was drawn. That boy was either cheating up a storm or really knew how to play blackjack. Since he was one of Vince’s few friends, Vince was opting to give him the benefit of the doubt. Had Vince been a bit more experienced in the ways of the world, it might have dawned on him that the two options were not mutually exclusive.
Vince was in a good mood, even as he scrambled to find Sasha’s dormitory. It was his second day attending Lander and the first day of real classes. He had basic math and literature classes in the morning, followed by gym and Ethics of Heroism in the afternoon. He still wasn’t sure why gym was ascribed a three-hour chunk of his time every day, but he assumed there would be a logical explanation when he got there. Besides, he and Sasha were getting breakfast before their morning classes together, which made him just a bit happier than he would admit to anyone who was asking. He did enjoy women with multi-colored hair.
Vince had been polite enough to invite his fellow dorm mates to come along. Nick had said no due to an early class, Mary had politely declined without explanation, and Alice had informed him that she would be avoiding the dorm food as much as was humanly possible. Vince had looked for Hershel as well, but to no avail. It seemed their friend hadn’t even come home last night. Vince was beginning to get worried, but he was trying to hope for the best. If he didn’t see his portly dorm mate soon, though, Vince was planning on finding Mr. Numbers or Mr. Transport.
Vince saw the bell tower and finally got a sense of where he was. With its lush foliage, sprawling campus, and large buildings, Lander was one of the largest and most scenic colleges in California. All of which sounded great on the brochure, but was somewhat less charming when trying to hustle between locations across campus. Vince was really hoping he didn’t have any classes that were too far apart when he finally saw a sign on a multistoried building that read “Hughes.”
He walked into the lobby quickly, checking the wall clock and realizing with a twinge that he was late. It wasn’t by much, but it was enough to irk him. He had been taught that punctuality was one of the most important virtues to have. He made his way through the white-tiled entryway and past the door leading into the dorm area itself. Some of the dorms were segregated into male and female, his own being one of them, but Hughes had alternating floors. The rooms were done in suites, with two rooms sharing a common living room area. It engendered a sense of community, or so Sasha had told him, since people could leave their living room doors open and still preserve a getaway in their bedroom. It occurred to Vince that whoever had built Melbrook for him and the others had clearly taken some cues from the Hughes dormitory set up.
In fact, Vince was right. Alice had toured the Lander
campus (along with several others) before talking with the architects who would ultimately design Melbrook. She had found the Hughes design an excellent integration of privacy and community, though her original designs had her room set off in a separate area. Specifically, it was in an entirely separate building on the opposite campus and utterly unaffiliated with Melbrook in anyway. That attempt had failed, but she’d considered it something of a long shot anyway.
Vince bounded up the stairs to the second floor and began moving down the hallway. Since the rooms were arranged sequentially, it didn’t take him much time at all to find Sasha’s room: 216. He was about to knock when he heard shouting from the other side of the door. Vince couldn’t quite make out the words, but they definitely sounded angry. There were several voices, at least two female with one probably male. Vince was still standing there, debating on whether he should knock or wait a few moments for things to calm down, when he heard an object land heavily against the door. All thoughts of tact aside, Vince jerked the doorknob, which was fortunately unlocked, and burst into the room.
“Is everyone okay?” Vince yelled before he could take in the scene around him. As the sights the room held registered into his mind one by one, it became clear that things were undoubtedly not okay.
There were two girls and a boy here, all right. The most attention-grabbing one was the blonde that Sasha had pointed out as her roommate yesterday, Julia, who was a few steps outside of her bedroom and into the living room. She was rearing back a large black pump, clearing intending to send it flying. If Vince had bothered to look down he would have noticed its twin resting by his feet, the obvious culprit in the case of the mysterious thudding noise against the door. Julia was wearing a sizable plaid shirt, though with her arm reared back and pulling the fabric up, it was evident that the shirt wasn’t quite sizable enough.
Standing between Julia and the guy, looking haggard and unhappy but playing the referee, was Sasha, wearing a tight pink shirt and grey sleep shorts. Ordinarily Vince would have savored this image a bit more than he did. Unfortunately, his attention couldn’t help but be captured somewhat by the other male in the room. He was a heavy guy, wrapped poorly in a towel, and was hunched over in a submissive position. He was clearly trying to defend himself verbally, but from the look on Julia’s face, Vince had a feeling the boy hadn’t gotten that far.