CHAPTER 36: CHAPTER 36: EXTRA C AND HAIL CAPITALISM (3)

The next week was a blur of cards, spinning wheels, and bad coffee.

We fell into a routine. A strange, secret routine that existed in the pockets of time between school and life.

Monday, we met in the library. Hidden behind the stacks of encyclopedias nobody touched anymore. Lia sat cross-legged on the floor, her skirt pooled around her, while I paced. We played Baccarat.

"So have you ever thought of getting a haircut?" Lia asked.

"I don’t need one."

"I think if you stop covering your face, you’ll look a little more like a person."

Rude much? While we were still playing I looked up at her. Our eyes met for a second before I pulled a finger to my mouth and shushed her.

Lia’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but I was actually showing her a secret. I pulled my hair back and turned both my ears toward her.

"Haah!" She gasped and covered her mouth. "Piercings and tattoos!?" She shouted in a quiet way, something very difficult to pull off.

I quickly smirked and let go of my hair. We were both going to move on. Lia’s eyes were still wide and she had a bigger grin as she nodded.

"Banker," she said.

"Player," I argued.

We compromised. We lost. Then we doubled down on Banker and won it back.

Tuesday, we were on the roof. The wind whipped Lia’s hair across her face. She held her phone up to block the sun. She was playing Blue in Green as we stared into the screen.

"Slots," she decided. "I feel lucky."

"You feel lucky frequently."

"Slots are pure RNG. There is no skill."

"Pull the lever, Kronk."

I pressed the button. Lemons. Cherries. A big fat BAR.

Loss.

"Damn it," Lia hissed and then turned to me. She handed me a chocolate from her pockets and I grinned. We were betting on our bets.

"Again," she commanded.

Wednesday, we sat in an empty classroom after everyone had left for club activities. The setting sun painted the room in deep oranges and violets. It was quiet. Just the sound of our breathing and the digital chime of the app.

We were grinding. The wagering amount climbed. $7,000. $8,500.

I lost a big hand on Thursday. Poker. I thought I had the read, but the river card killed me. I swore, a sharp, creative curse that made Lia raise an eyebrow.

"Temper," she chided. " tilt is the enemy."

"I lost three hundred."

"We’re up six hundred for the week. Zoom out, Abel. Look at the big picture."

She was infuriatingly calm. Where I saw risk, she saw a game. Where I saw the dark underbelly of a criminal enterprise, she saw numbers and colors.

But she was good. Better than good. She had an uncanny knack for knowing when to fold and when to push. It wasn’t magic. It was observation. She watched the timing of the server ticks, the patterns of the wins. She gamed the game.

By Friday, we were close.

I sat in my room, the lights off. The glow of the monitor illuminated the smoke from my cigarette. Anna was asleep in her room. The apartment was silent.

My phone buzzed.

[Lialicious: Status?]

[~: 9,800.]

[Lialicious: One more push. Do it.]

I crushed the cigarette in the ashtray. My eyes burned. The blue light was searing my retinas.

I logged in. Blackjack. High stakes.

I needed two hundred dollars in wagers. I didn’t even need to win. I just needed to play the hand.

But winning would be nice.

Deal.

Ten. Six. Sixteen.

Dealer shows a King.

The book says hit. My gut screamed stand.

I remembered Lia’s voice.

I hit.

Five.

Twenty-one.

"Hah," the sound escaped me in the dark room.

The dealer flipped. King. Seven. Seventeen.

Win.

The bar at the top of the screen filled up. A golden animation played, fireworks exploding over the Vangels logo. It was gaudy. It was cheap.

It was exactly what I needed.

***

The school hallway was a war zone of noise. Lockers slamming, people shouting, the squeak of shoes.

I saw the group near the entrance. Sebastian, Eric, Emily, Anna. They were laughing.

And Lia.

She was leaning against a locker, looking bored. She saw me approaching. Her eyes locked onto mine.

I didn’t wave. I just tilted my head toward the side corridor, the one leading to the emergency stairs.

Lia nodded, almost imperceptibly. She slipped away from the group without a word.

I waited in the shadows of the stairwell. It smelled of dust.

"Well?" Lia asked as she rounded the corner. "Did we do it?"

"Yes, we."

"I was the spiritual guide." She stepped closer, smelling of vanilla. "Show me."

I pulled out my phone. I navigated past the flashy casino home screen to the inbox.

There, sitting at the top, was an email with a subject line in bold gold font.

[Welcome to the Elite. Your Platinum Status is Confirmed.]

I opened it.

[Dear User,

Congratulations on reaching the Platinum tier of Vangels. Your dedication has been noted.

You are hereby invited to the Vangels Lounge for an exclusive experience.

Location: Aversque Boulevard, Syn Hotels Basement Level. Access Code attached below.

We look forward to servicing you.

Lia read it over my shoulder.

"Syn Hotels?" she whispered. "That’s... where is that?."

"Aversque Boulevard. They had great lamb chops."

"Oh yeah?" Lia nodded as if that had jolted her memory back. That place has been shut down for years. It’s a ruin."

"Apparently not the basement."

Lia looked at me. The playfulness was gone, replaced by a sharp curiosity.

"You’re going, aren’t you?"

"Tonight."

She bit her lip, looking at the screen, then back at me.

"Be careful, Abel. That doesn’t look like a place for high schoolers."

"I’ll be fine."

"You better be. You still owe me lunch for the wins."

I let out a short, dry chuckle. "Deal."

I put the phone back in my pocket. It felt heavier now. A key to a door that shouldn’t be opened.

"Go back to them," I said. "Before they wonder."

Lia nodded. She smoothed her skirt, the mask of the carefree student sliding back into place.

"Good luck, partner."

She walked back into the light.

Tonight. It was time to see what was rotting in the basement of Aversque Boulevard—

Lia came right back and tapped my shoulder.

"You thought it would be that easy?" she yelled. "I am coming with you."

"Excuse me?"

Lia shrugged. "You wouldn’t tell me what’s all this for, I can at least come to the bigger tables. We are just going to find things out anyway, aren’t we?"

I pursed my lips.

On one hand I didn’t want her along at all. It was dangerous.

On the other hand...

There was a lot of money we could possibly make.

"Come on, Abel," Lia said. "Think of the cash."

Capitalism...

Was it really to be hailed?