Page 22 of Deck of Scarlets

I agreed and retreated into my room, finally able to breathe a bit better.

Chapter Nine

Hot summer air fanned my face as we descended the stairs from the University Hall the next afternoon. Groups of young adults scattered across the campus lawn, laughing and hollering at one another, probably on their way to dorm parties, where they hid all the booze from authorities.

We had another lame assembly about our expectations as freshmen, and if we were struggling in our first semester, there were resources available to us in the Common Study building. Guidance counselors were also in the same building if we needed a safe place to talk to someone.

All through the assembly, I tried to come up with different ways to approach Heather about the invitation, and in the end, I decided against every single one. Why did I care so much about some stupid society I had no intention of joining? Maybe because my constant need to find the truth took over my logical thinking and I acted on impulse. At the end of the day, I didn’t want to be there, so why bother with the other shit in between?

I worked up a sweat from being in my head too much, and it must’ve shown on my face because Heather barely looked my way the rest of the assembly.

I just wanted an easy time here so I could get in and get out without forming friendships or memories.

Heather kept quiet as we walked side by side, giving me the space to cool down, but the summer heat made it that much harder to climb back down that ladder.

I needed to try and act normal until I could figure out what was going on, then approach Heather and get this all out in the open.

I found her lying sprawled out over her bed, reading a book, twirling a strand of her hair. Already dressed in her pjs, makeup off, she gave me a quick thumbs-up, acknowledging my presence.

After my mini self-care routine and a quick trip to the bathroom, dressed in a matching shorts and shirt pj set, I crawled into my squeaky twin-sized bed. Lying there, staring aimlessly at the ceiling while my roommate barely spoke to me all day while she sat mere feet from them in the same room was enough to build the unnecessary tension.

“Hitting the hay early?” asked Heather.

Her voice made me jump a bit. She caught my reaction and half frowned.

“Honestly? I’m too wired,” I confessed.

She pulled out a deck of cards from her desk drawer. “How about a little game?”

I smirked in amusement. “What kind of game?”

Heather hopped off her bed, sat cross-legged on the rug, and began to shuffle. “My favorite is poker,” she reached under her bed and pulled out a drawstring bag, dumping a mound of different colored poker chips on the floor. “I never lose.”

I slid off my bed to join her on the floor. “Interesting. You never mentioned it on your index card.”

She laughed. “I don’t tell a lot of people.”

Heather dealt our cards with fast precision.

“I can see why.”

We divided the chips evenly, stacking them by color. I checked my hand, surprised to find a two of a kind for kings.

“I can be dealer if you like?” she offered.

Giving my cards another scan, I nodded in acceptance. “Sure. That way, I can concentrate better.”

Heather threw down some yellow chips in the middle, a smirk on her face. “I always start out small for my bids.”

I tossed a couple of my own yellow chips on the pile. “Before you pummel your opponent?”

“Exactly.”

I never thought of myself as a good poker player, even the times with Jeremy and Nickie when I ended up winning most of the rounds, even though we were drunk, but Heather was killing me.

Her poker face was another story. Every hand she threw down trumped mine. If I showed my straight, she would up me with a flush. And if I came at her in the next round with a full house, somehow, she would eliminate me with a four-of-a-kind.

By this point in the night, I had a few poker chips left to my name and a pounding headache.

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