Page 60 of Gambler's Fallacy

Of course she had. “You have the attention span of a squirrel,” I tell her, taking my time lining up for the hole. She manages to beat me, but those few strokes saved won’t win her the whole game. If she manages to play more like this, though, we might even tie.

I don’t mind it. She’s never been overly competitive, but she does like to win — especially when it’s me she’s beating.

“How are things with your underage boyfriend, by the way?” Connie asks.

I tense up, missing the next hole by a mile as she breaks my concentration. I grit my teeth. “He’s not underage,” I say as patiently as I can manage. “He’s twenty-one. He might be a young-looking twenty-one, but he still is old enough to be my boyfriend.”

“Sure,” Connie says, and there’s something different about her tone now that has me even more on edge. “But you know, young guys like him, they’re not looking for anything serious.”

I think about Seven, about how much he relies on the three of us, and almost laugh. Sevenneedssomething serious, and it’s not only because the Lockwoods would steal him away if they were given half a chance. “Okay,” I say, though, not wanting to argue with her. I line up my next shot, pretending I’m not bothered by her bringing Seven into this — and glad I hadn’t asked if I could bring him along.

We go another three holes without any serious talk, and I think she got the hint to drop the subject.

Of course I’m not that lucky.

“Look, I wasn’t going to say anything,” Connie says, leaning on her putter. “But I saw your boyfriend with another guy.”

When had she managed to do that? “Are you spying on him?” I demand, flushing with anger at the idea that she might be keeping an eye on him for any reason — and that I wouldn’t know.

“Uh, no?” Connie gives me a look. “I was at the casino, meeting up with a potential TerBaby, and I saw your boy toy sitting on this Latino dude’s lap.”

TerBaby.

“Your… Ter… Baby?” I ask slowly.

Connie rolls her eyes. “Yeah. I have to nurture her so she can be a TerMom herself. You know that’s how sales work. She’s all in on the TerMa life, and soon she’ll be a big boss babe herself—and I get a percentage of all her sales.” She putts her ball into the vicinity of the hole. “Anyway, don’t derail! Your boyfriend is cheating on you, Sebby.”

“He isn’t cheating on me,” I say as steadily as I can manage — which isn’t as steady as I’d like it to be, because there’s an edge of anger in my voice. “But I’m not going to explain my love life to you.”

Connie’s next putt is too hard, and the ball rolls right past the hole. “But I always have to explain mine to you? You scared off all my boyfriends because they weren’t good enough, but when I kindly tell you that you could do better than some underage kidwho is cheating on you, I need to butt out?”

“He’s not underage!” I burst out, so loudly that a few people turn and look at me. I lower my voice, continuing, “I appreciate you telling me what you saw, I really do. But he’s…”

WhatisSeven?

“Special,” I finish. “And I know he has another boyfriend.” I don’t tell her that he hastwoother boyfriends.

Connie lets out an incredulous laugh. “Are you serious? Sebby, that’s…” Her expression softens. “You know you deserve better, right? You’re a great guy, and you always look out for everyone. You should have somebody who respects you enough to be faithful.”

She isn’t wrong that I think that every disgusting boyfriend she’s ever had hasn’t been good enough for her, and maybe it’s time she turned that around on me. But I’m so annoyed by her accusations that I would ever date someone underage that it’s hard to be rational.

“He does respect me,” I say, but something nags at me that I can’t quite push away because maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t respect me as much as I think he does.

He’d been so quick to manipulate me the last time we’d had sex, but I’d let him do it. I’d understood, at least on some level, that I was being pushed to do something I didn’t necessarily want to do. It hadn’t been right, and I’ve been meaning to talk to him about it when his immediate safety isn’t looming over my head.

But that’s not something I’m going to talk to Connie about. It’s not something I even wanted to tell Caleb about, though it’s an important facet about Seven. It’d been humiliating to admit to Caleb, but he’d only nodded and not judged me.

“Drop it,” I tell her. I’d been hoping we could at least get through the course and get lunch after, but I don’t think I can stand to be in her line of fire much longer.

“Fine,” she says with a frustrated sigh. “But I’m still worried.”

We’re quieter through the rest of the course, until we hit the final hole. It has a mechanical devil swinging an “axe” from side to side, blocking access to the tunnels behind it, only one of which leads directly to the hole.

“I don’t remember, was it the middle or the left tunnel?” Connie asks.

“Left,” I tell her, but my mind isn’t on the game.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out to see a text from Seven.

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