Chapter Text
The bell signaling the end of the school day finally rings. I shoulder my backpack and join the throng of students moving toward the front doors. I keep my eyes on the ground and shuffle forward. Don’t look at anybody. Don’t bump into anybody. Maybe I’ll make it out without incident today. I raise my eyes just enough to see how close I am to the door. Oh no, not again. I’m so close. Two boys with shoulders as broad as tractor trailer trucks are walking toward me. I try to shift out of their way, but I’m not fast enough. Their shoulders smash into mine and I fall on my back. My head crashes against the concrete floor and my backpack slips off my shoulder and slides across the floor. The boys laugh and keep walking. So does everyone else walking around me.
“Again, Kal? Really?” A hand reaches toward me.
I look up into my twin brother’s glaring face, almost exactly like my own from the grey eyes to the curly brown hair. I sigh. “Yes again.” I grab his hand and he pulls me to my feet.
“Can I beat them up for you now?”
“No, Caze.”
“Please?”
“No. Come on, let’s go home.”
He picks up my backpack and hands it to me.
I pull it back over my shoulders and we continue walking toward the doors.
We reach the gate and turn down the street towards home. We live on the outskirts of the city, in between the lab where Mom works and the factory where Papa works.
“Did you have a good day?” Caze asks.
“I guess. I only got knocked down twice.”
“Kalyah…” he sighs.
“I’m fine, Caze!”
“You can’t let them push you around for the rest of your life!"
“They won’t push me around for the rest of my life! I only have to deal with them for two more years.”
“Kal, you’ve got to stand up for yourself. Eventually they’ll do more than just push you down in the hallway. One day they’ll actually beat you up. You know, if you tell Papa he might could-”
“Caze, I can handle it myself!” I snap.
He sighs. “Fine, but you need to handle it soon, or I’m going to handle it for you.”
“That’s exactly what you can’t do!”
“Why not?”
“Because if you beat them up for me, that just means they’ll make sure that you’re not around to defend me before they do anything.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“Yeah.”
We reach our front door and Caze fishes a key out of his pocket to unlock it. The house is dark which means we’re the first home as usual. Caze flicks the lights on in the main room and we carry our backpacks to our bedroom. Caze gets out the paperwork he has to do for his lab job and goes to the kitchen table to start on it. I check the cupboards to see if I need to start making dinner before our parents come home and find them bare except for a single can of pinto beans. That’s not enough for all of us, and I know my parents won’t be coming home with food tonight. It’s all right though, I can fix it.
I go back to our bedroom, and change my shirt from my old school t-shirt to a fairly nice black button down. I reach under my mattress and gather the playing cards and wallet I stash there. I carefully arrange the playing cards in their special places inside my shirt sleeve and count the bills in my wallet. “Hey Caze, I’m going out! I’ll be back in a little while!“ I call on my way out the door.
He doesn’t answer, already too absorbed in his work. I was counting on that. I can’t have him asking me where I’m going. I shove my hands in my pants pockets, making sure to keep my hand over the wallet. I barely have enough, but I do have enough. This would be easier if it were electronic, but unfortunately people at our level in society don’t really have that option. Banks for the commoner aren’t really a thing anymore. That whole system collapsed around ninety years ago and never really got built back up enough to support more than the rich few. My history teacher compares it to something that happened like three thousand years ago called the Great Depression. I’m not really sure how knowing that helps me in any way, but the teacher seems to think it should teach us a lesson about how history repeats itself. Personally, I think history needs to get its ass in gear and repeat whatever fixed this problem in the first place. That way I won’t have to do this to get us enough money to eat. Now, my parents prefer to get money the way most people get it, the way the government demands—by earning it at their jobs. Unfortunately, their jobs and Caze’s don’t even bring in enough for us to have decent meals. I had a job at the lab where Caze and Mama work, but got fired last year for accidentally dropping a beaker full of a rare chemical. That went on my permanent record, and now no one official will hire me. I couldn’t bear not being able to help, so I figured out another way to earn money that my parents and Caze don’t know about. They would also probably kill me if they found out what I do when I disappear after school and occasionally on weekends. They think I just find odd, random jobs to do to earn a few extra dollars and whenever I do, I spend it on extra food. I’m happy to let them keep thinking that as long as they don’t question me.
It takes me about fifteen minutes to reach my destination—The Spire Casino. I should have time for a few games to get some more money, then I can go to the store to get us something for dinner and be back before my parents get home and/or Caze notices I’m gone. I push open the door of the casino and walk into the dimly lit lobby which reeks of cigarette smoke and liquor. It’s probably the lowest-end casino in the world, but it also doesn’t monitor its tables too closely. I make my way through the crowded room and find an empty seat at a Querelle game table.
The current game finishes up and a few players leave. I buy into the next game.
My cards are dealt. I don’t have the best hand, but I can work with it. I can always work with it. Several players fold in the first round. A few more fold in the second.
It’s the last round now, and it’s just me and one more player. I look at the final card I’ve been dealt. I only have thirty-one points. That’s not going to be enough. Quicker than anyone’s eyes could possibly follow, I flick an eleven-point card out of my sleeve and swap it for the two-point one I was just dealt. Forty points flat oughta do it. The other player puts her cards face up on the table. She only has thirty-nine points. Unable to keep the grin from my face, I drop my own perfect forty on the table. She glares as the dealer reaches forward to collect the cards. As he sweeps the cards into a pile I quickly switch my cards back. I cannot lose my eleven-pointer.
“I think I’ll go ahead and cash in.” The robot counts out thirty-one dollars and hands them to me. That oughta be plenty to get us some more food and leave me enough cash to come back next time we need food. I pocket the bills and leave the casino, heading toward the grocery store. So far, no one has caught onto the fact that I usually win by switching cards.
I discovered how much chance really was involved in playing cards pretty soon after I started. With what little money I had to use, I couldn’t very well risk it with games of chance, so I learned sleight of hand to switch out any cards I was dealt that I didn’t like. I picked it up pretty quick, and soon I could win any hand of cards with no problem. I do visit the casino occasionally purely to lose so as to throw off suspicion that I might be cheating, but not very often. I can’t throw away money like that. I pick up my pace as I get further away from the casino, I need to get to the store fast and get home before my parents do.
When I get to the store, I quickly get the few items I can afford. A small bag of rice, three cans each of black beans and corn, and a small, tough loaf of bread that’s got to be at least five days old. I wish we could afford meat or even just fake meat made out of soy. It’s so much more filling than just beans and rice, but it’s really expensive. Soy meat was less expensive when my parents were young, but even they’ve never eaten real meat. I’ve only eaten soy meat once, on Christmas Day when I was six. I remember, because that was also the last Christmas we spent with my grandparents before they passed. At least I can afford this though. It’s not much, but it’ll be a nice addition to the meager amount of food that the salaries can buy. I pay for the food and start my walk home. It’s been a long day.