A Hater's Gamble (BxB)

THIRTY-FOUR

"These are my only intentions."

M I L E S

The club resembled a brothel now. Women—clad in red and pink lace—sat on the laps of eager men at the poker table. They were fairly young and seemed to be smiling at their clients.

The ones who smiled the widest had the most cash in between their cleavage. One of the women, a blonde with green eyes, caught me staring, and winked.

I quickly refocused my attention on the game in front of me. Four-hundred dollars toppled in the pot tonight. It wasn't much compared to previous nights, but Christmas was next month, and my sister had expensive taste. She'd expect something shiny; an item worth four-hundred dollars would do nicely.

"Fifty," the man beside me spoke, and tossed his chips into the center.

Groans went around the table from players. They weren't going to appreciate my next move. "Raise, two dollars," I said, tossing my own chips.

"Shit," someone swore.

"Stupid kid," one muttered.

"I can never catch a break."

"Two dollars," one man agreed, matching my raise. The brunette in his lap purred in his ear, which I hoped distracted him, for my sake.

The cards in my hands revealed two Queens. There was one queen on the board, two sevens, one King, and one five. Surely, this man couldn't beat a three of a kind? Or, perhaps he had his own three of a kind.

The dealer nodded to the man, "show your cards."

He placed two sevens on the table, with a smug grin, running his free hand over the brunette's thigh. I almost laughed. When it was my turn to reveal my cards, the women in lace cooed, while the men voiced their disappointment.

"Three Queens beat three sevens, Darnell," the dealer said, petting his mustache. "The boy wins."

Once the money was given to me in an envelope, the women flocked over to me like geese, eyes bright and smiles seductive.

Jesus.

"Before any of you say anything," I started, rising from my seat. "I'm sixteen."

The blonde that previously winked at me now seemed to be dissatisfied. She rolled her eyes, and pulled her flock away from me. I let out a breath, then tucked the money into my front pocket.

••••••••••••••••••

"Today is Friday," Freddy announced, walking beside me in the hall. The final bell had rung and I was on my commute to Mr. Wicks' classroom to meet Liam.

I didn't get a chance to see him yesterday. At all. I had an inkling that he was avoiding me, which I should have expected. Liam was unpredictable.

"It is," I responded, smiling.

"Are you going to Stacy's party tomorrow?," Freddy asked, eyeing me expectantly.

"You don't strike me as a party person," I responded, trying to ignore the heaviness in my chest at the thought of Stacy.

"I'm not," he admitted, shrugging. "However, I won't mind going if you're there."

His teeth were brilliantly white as he smiled, his lips a full pink. As I gazed over his features, I was certain he was attractive, but I didn't feel compelled to him. Freddy didn't deserve to be led on, not by me.

"I'm sorry," I said, trying my best to sound sincere. "I won't be able to go. I have this, ah—."

"Tickets to the Portland Beavers game," a voice behind me interjected. I knew that mischievous tone anywhere. It was embarrassing to admit that I felt relief, that he wasn't avoiding me. However, what was this about a Portland Beavers game? Those tickets were insanely expensive, surely he just fabricated a story to get me out of this party.

Freddy held a slight scowl at the sight of Liam. My sympathy went out to him, for it was extremely easy to be irritated by Liam Coleman.

The golden-haired boy held up two tickets, with a smirk. I instantly became aware of his scent, cedar-wood and pine. "I heard you need to bring a bottle of Vodka to get into the party," Liam said, taunting Freddy. "I suggest you start shopping for your alcohol."

"Thanks for the tip," Freddy voiced tightly, then turned to me with a lighter expression. "Enjoy your game, Miles."

He briskly walked past Liam and I, and when he finally was out of sight, I immediately said, "Where were you yesterday?"

He gave me a lazy smile and leaned against the lockers. "You missed me, partner in crime?" he asked.

"Not necessarily," I retorted. "It's just odd that Daisy sat alone at lunch yesterday, normally you'd be her eager puppy."

He rose his brows, clearly affronted. "I am no one's eager puppy."

"You could have fooled me," I said, walking ahead and entering the classroom.

Liam followed suit and sat down in his usual desk beside me. He placed the two tickets on my desk, wordlessly.

I picked them up and examined them. "Great way to sell the story," I complimented. "They look real. Too, real, actually."

Liam took his jacket off with ease while he said, "It's because they are, dork."

I couldn't contain my sound of surprise. If what Liam said was the truth, in my hands were minor league championship tickets to the Beavers and Mavericks game. Granted, it was a minor league game, but it was once in a lifetime. I looked to Liam in amazement, but almost immediately my spell was broken.

"You and Daisy will have a good time," I said, in a tone that was incredibly bitter. "I heard Glavine is their starting pitcher."

Liam only stared at me. And stared. Then he laughed. Genuinely laughed. When he recovered, he had the widest smile on his face, and he shoved me. I'd never seen him smile this much.

"What is wrong with you?," I pressed.

"I'm not taking Daisy to a Beavers championship game," he said, scoffing. "I'm taking you."

I inspected his expression for any cracks. For lies. I didn't find any, he seemed entirely serious.

"Why are you taking me?," I asked, desperately trying to calm my excited heart.

"Like you once told Freddy," he said, giving a wry smile. "We're friends, are we not?"

I opened my mouth to speak, then clamped it shut. Out of all the stunts that Liam had pulled, I never thought this might've been possible. Portland Beavers. Liam and I used to predict their starting lineup every season as kids.

"They're suite seats," Liam went on, filling in my astonished silence, "so we won't be in the crowd—

All reason departed from my brain, and I leaped out of my seat, staring at him in shock. "Suite seats? You're not being serious. Those are worth a fortune, and even more at a championship game."

Liam's eyes flickered with humor as he looked up at me from his seat. "Yes, Miles, they were expensive, but my dad owes me. I prefer to be as far away from Stacy's party tomorrow, don't you?"

I nodded, eagerly, still somewhat starstruck. Stacy and her father no longer crowded my mind. I could only think of the bright lights of the Beavers stadium tomorrow.

"I'm going to see Swanson bat tomorrow," I said, interrupting him with dazed eyes. "And watch Hensan pitch. Big dogs."

Liam leaned back in his chair and chuckled, giving me a confirming nod, "Big dogs, indeed."