Just Until Morning

C H A P T E R   T H I R T E E N

Holli

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The edges of the suitcase I bought at the thrift store are so worn that the plastic underneath is beginning to show through.

I’ve been in a staring contest with the brown roller bag on and off for two hours. I’ve moved it around twice as I tried to figure out how to stop looking at it, but since I have no closet, it’s just me and my willpower, and I’m losing.

I kick my feet into the air, straightening my legs until the muscles scream as I try to lift my torso from my lumpy mattress and touch my toes. The late afternoon gloom is the only thing keeping me company.

Cruzer is on his way over. I’m trying to get my game face on but...I don’t know...it’s like everything has changed. I used to be able to just turn it on. The hustle. The calculations. But it’s been harder and harder since I met Lincoln.

Thing is though, I still need money. Cruzer’s been getting me into some online games, and I’ve been doing okay. I’m up anyway. Of course, I had to put another big chunk of my saved tuition money to get in, but at this point, I’m stuck. It’s sink or swim, and I’m doggy-paddling as fast as I can.

A knock on the door to the apartment doesn’t surprise me. Cruzer is a lot of things, but he’s usually prompt.

“Come in,” I yell and drop my legs onto the bed, swing myself over and hop up.

“Hey. I got good news.” Cruzer’s nose is always red, but today it’s got a kind of Rudolf glow.

“Do tell.” My deadpan voice doesn’t dim his enthusiasm.

“There’s a new game I got you in. It’s only going to be on for forty-eight hours, then they will shut the site down.”

Online poker is illegal, and finding good games for real money takes connections. Unfortunately, Cruzer is my only way in, so we’ve been working together, but it still doesn’t make me trust him.

“Okay, so what’s so good news about that? I’ve been playing in these other games you’ve got going, and that’s been fine. Slow, but it’s moving in the right direction.”

“Aww, no.” He shuts the door and walks over to flop down in his own ass-indent on the droopy olive-green sofa. “This one is where you’re going to change things for yourself. Now, don’t get panicked, but it’s another $5G buy in—”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I’m on my feet, throwing my hands to the sides of my head. “No way. I’ve already got five sunk into these other games. Along with the money I lost at that game you sent me to, that’s ten thousand fucking dollars. Another five and I’m screwed. No way. No way.”

“Do you have your tuition money now?” He stares at me, entwining his fingers behind his head with a surly grin.

“No. But losing more isn’t going to get me any closer.”

“This game is good. I mean, I know some of the guys they got in, and they are donks. I’m telling you, it’s like a sure thing. You get in with five, maybe ten, you’ll triple your money easy. These guys are ripe.” He’s on his feet and at my computer. “Log in. First, we PayPal transfer to this email, then they will get the funds to the game under a few other money moves that can’t be traced. Come on. They aren’t going to wait.”

I feel my life slipping away.

My heart thuds inside my chest, and I lower my hand to cover my face, trying to remember how to breathe.

Five hours and a lifetime of regret later, I slam my forehead down on my desk.

“Fuck,” I say into the chipped, wood-tone Formica next to my keyboard.

“Shitty luck. Fuck.” Cruzer’s support lacks a certain sincerity. “You were fucking doing great. What the hell happened?”

I lift my head and scowl at him. “You’ve been sitting on my hip the whole time. You need me to tell you what happened?” I lean back in my chair on a long exhale, my head pounding.

“You were killing it.” He slurps on his glass of Popov with a shake of his head. He doesn’t seem all that distraught, but then, it’s not his money. I want to punch him in his reindeer nose.

“These fuckers are slamming me.” I point toward the screen. “It’s like they are playing together against me.”

“Just take a breath.” He chuckles. “No one is playing together. Everyone is on their own.”

“A breath? I’ve just lost ten fucking thousand dollars. Started with five, wanted to quit, but listened to you. But that’s on me. Now I have no way to get it back. I’ll be in this shithole town, hustling in charity poker rooms for the rest of my stupid life.” It’s my aversion to losing that got me in so deep. I’m not used to it, and I’m desperate. Two things that do not make for good decisions.

I fight back the tears. No way I’m crying. Not in front of him.

But I would. If he weren’t here, I’d be crying about my own stupidity. Not about the loss. Not just the humiliation either. Not even the fucking money. The loss of a dream. The loss of my own sense of priorities.

Why do I do this? Why do I let people talk me into things when I know they aren’t good for me? I should have just pointed my sausage finger right into his chest and said “no.”

I shake my head. I won’t do this; I won’t let them all bring me down into their stupid, worthless existence. I’m better than that. I have my pride.

I force myself to relax, hold back the tears. And then, in that instant, something comes over me. Call it an epiphany. Suddenly, I realize it’s only the expectation of something different that has me on edge. When I take a second, I realize this is my life. Just this. And a hardness forms around the edges of me, protecting me from it all.

I feel indifference setting in, and it feels a hell of a lot better than the loss of what could have been.

Lincoln. School. A new life.

Fuck ’em.

I leave them all behind in that instant. In a kind of daze, I play my last three hands and lose the little money I have left. Then I push back my chair, ignoring Cruzer’s pleas for me to take another draw and try to win it back.

Without a word, without my keys, my bag, or anything other than my new attitude, I’m out the door and headed back into the comfort of familiarity.

I’ve got two hundred bucks in my pocket. That’s more than enough. I’ll find some shitty bar game and take a few drunks for a ride. Won’t be “fuck you” money, but at least it’s back to what I know. What I can control.

Before I’m at the end of the hall, I hear Cruzer yelling behind me, but he doesn’t realize I’m already gone.