Page 18 of Fight

“Whatcha got there, Scottie?” Dixon asks, craning his neck to take a gander at her stash.

“Caramel corn.”

“Homemade?”

“Yup.”

I love homemade caramel corn. I lift the corner of my two cards. Seven of hearts and four of clubs.

King lays the flop: a five, six, and a jack. I’ve got a chance at a straight.

We take a beat to review our hands. I throw in a small bag of Cheetos. Opp folds. Caleb throws in a Rice Krispie Treat, and Dixon adds in a fruit cup.

Bobby snatches up the fruit cup and turns it over in his hand. “The fuck is this?”

“Fruit cocktail,” he replies.

“Motherfucker, this is all pears, and it went bad six months ago. Do you have anything decent? Scottie brought homemade caramel corn and you’re showing up with expired poverty pears. Come on, now.” His southern accent peeks out at the end, and a few of us laugh.

Dixon adds a fruit cup of peaches. “There. Bougee bitches.”

Scottie folds. “I’m out.”

Bobby tosses a granola bar onto the pile.

The turn is an eight of diamonds, so I toss in a half-smashed Hostess cake.

Everybody else folds, and I steal the pot of prepackaged junk food. We go a few more rounds, and Scottie folds after the flopeach time. I casually slide my phone from my pocket and shoot her a text.

You ever going to bet that caramel corn?

I keep my eyes on her as we go around the table again. I’ve got pocket sevens, and Dixon dropped another seven on the flop, along with a queen and a two. Scottie glances up at me, then her cheeks pinken as she texts under the table.

Scottie

If I get a decent hand.

Life is about taking risks.

Scottie

You just want my caramel corn.

Damn right I do.

The bet comes to her, and she smirks, tossing in her bag of gooey, buttery caramel corn.

Scottie

Come and get it.

I throw in the Rice Krispie Treat I won in the last round. Dixon gives the turn. Two of clubs. Full house. Everyone but Scottie folds. I toss in a Pearson’s Nut Roll, and she throws in her second bag of popcorn. Dixon drops the river—a queen, and I rub my chin.

“What else have you got to bet?”

“I have Ramen in my bag upstairs… but I won’t need it.”

The corner of my mouth tips up. “Table talk from the new guy. Pretty bold of you.”

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