Page 127 of Begin Again

“Can we play now?” Bennett grumbles, already shuffling the cards. “Before Celeste seduces a federal agent?”

Celeste bats her lashes. “It’s called establishing rapport.”

“It’s called a federal offense,” Orion mutters.

By the time the game starts, the house is buzzing with energy. We settle in, the coffee table cleared, snacks within reach, and the cards dealt.

Bennett smirks as he cuts the deck dramatically. “Prepare to witness greatness.”

“Greatness at being theVillage Idiotmaybe,” Celeste says, grabbing a handful of pretzels as she settles into a spot on the couch. “You have no idea what you’re doing.”

Bennett gestures to Theo. “Come on, I’ll need moral support playing with these vipers.”

“You’re on your own,” Theo says, dropping onto the floor next to me. “I’m sitting with the champion.”

“There is no such thing as a champion in Village Idiot, you fatuous boy,” Celeste quips. “There is only the Village Idiot.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bennett mutters, dealing the cards. “We’ll see who’s wearing the fool’s cap tonight.”

“Definitely you,” Orion says from his spot across the table. He leans back, stretching out like he owns the place. “No one forgets their face-down cards faster than a rookie.”

Bennett raises an eyebrow. “And no one complains about this game more than you, yet here you are.”

Morgan snickers, nudging him with her foot. “He secretly loves it. Don’t let him fool you.”

“You’re all wrong,” Celeste says, grabbing her stack of cards as they’re dealt. “TherealVillage Idiot is whoever lets Orion convince them he knows what he’s doing.”

“Harsh,” Orion says, clutching his chest theatrically. “But not inaccurate.”

The game begins, and chaos unfolds immediately. Everyone plays as much with their mouths as their hands, bluffing, posturing, and throwing insults like confetti.

“Alright, start us off,” I say, nodding to Morgan.

Morgan plays a five, setting the tone for a fairly tame start. The rest of us follow suit, throwing down cards until Bennett inevitably messes it up by playing a ten when he could have just stacked a matching five or higher.

“You know you didn’t have to play that, right?” I ask, barely trying to hide my smirk.

“Strategy,” Bennett says, tapping his temple. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“It’s not a strategy if you’re just making it up as you go,” Celeste points out.

The turns fly by, the draw pile shrinking as everyone tries to balance playing smart with sabotaging each other. Bennett burns through his hand cards too quickly, leaving himself vulnerable when it’s time to move to his face-up cards.

“That’s a bold move,” I say as he flips his first face-up card—a three. “Playing blind with no backup strategy?”

“It’s a lifestyle,” Bennett says with a grin, and he somehow manages to coast through a few more rounds before hitting his first roadblock: a face-down three that he plays blind on top of a king.

“Oof,” Celeste says, shaking her head. “That’s a penalty, my guy. Pick up the pile.”

Bennett groans, scooping up the stack of cards with exaggerated misery. “I hate this game.”

“No, you hate losing,” I say sweetly, playing my last hand card and moving on to my face-up ones. “Big difference.”

The game devolves into exactly what it always does—Orion getting way too competitive but paying more attention to Morgan than his cards. Morgan calls him out with a smugrookie moveevery time he slips up. Celeste stirring the pot between flirting with Stirling and pretending she doesn’t care about winning when I know she does.

I glance at Stirling, half-expecting him to be staring at the door, calculating his escape. Instead, he’s leaning back, watching the game with something softer in his expression.

“You enjoying yourself, Lucy?” Orion taunts.

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