Aces Up

  “Today,” my mom announces proudly, “your sister received a scholarship for UMass. She’s going to be transferring next year!”

  “Wow,” I say. “That’s awesome.” For a second, it’s like everything’s back to normal, but then I realize that everyone’s still mad at me. And that my sister is doing everything right, working hard and getting scholarships, and I’m like some kind of loser who has broken the law and gambled and looked for shortcuts to get ahead.

  “I’m ready!” Robyn says, appearing in the doorway. She’s wearing a short sparkly silver dress and strappy glittery heels, and her hair is loose and flowing around her shoulders. “Ready to partyyyy!” She does a little twirl around the room. “Oh,” she says, stopping short when she sees me. “Shannon, what are you doing here?”

  “I had to quit my job, remember?” I say. “So I did and then I came home. Why is everyone so dressed up?”

  “We’re going out to celebrate,” my mom says. “I made reservations at Anthony Jacks. I only made them for three, but I can call back and change it if you’d like to join us.” I see my mom and dad look at each other, and all of a sudden it’s awkward.

  “Uh, no,” I say. “That’s okay. I actually have a ton of homework to do.” The truth is as much as I’d like to celebrate my sister’s accomplishment, I just don’t think I could stand to sit there and pretend that everything’s okay. And I’m pretty sure it’s not my imagination that my family looks relieved.

  The next morning, I throw on a T-shirt and some track pants and head out to meet Cole before school. He called last night as I was getting ready for bed and asked me where I was. I told him that I’d quit my job, and that my parents had been freaking out, and that I had to lie low for the next few nights. He didn’t seem that upset or suspicious, but I asked him to meet me before school, because I figure I should see him in person so that I can convince him I’m really up for fixing the tournament.

  “Rough night, Shannon Card?” he asks when he sees me. We’re in the parking lot of Starbucks, and he’s leaning against the back of his Escalade. Cole, who I know has almost definitely been up all night, looks fresh as a daisy. He’s wearing a gray T-shirt, a pair of jeans, and his leather jacket. His face is stubbly, and even though I know it’s just because he hasn’t gotten around to shaving, it looks intentional, like he’s cultivating that sexily scruffy look. And he does look sexily scruffy, with his hair all wild and hanging in his face.

  “Not really,” I say. “But, listen, I wanted to tell you again in person that I’m in. With the plan, I mean. One hundred percent.”

  He grins. “I knew you’d come around,” he says. He takes a sip of his coffee. Cole got here before me and didn’t even wait to get a drink or ask me if I wanted one. I mean, honestly. He really needs better manners. Although I suppose his manners should be the least of my worries. I should be more concerned about his penchant for illegal activities.

  “You did?”

  “Yeah,” he says. “You’re a smart girl, Shannon, and I think you have a lot of potential.”

  I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

  “So listen,” he says, checking his watch, “I have to get going, but I’ll see you later? Do you want to play tonight?”

  “I’m not sure,” I say, annoyed that he’s trying to ditch me already. Probably he’s tired and needs to get back to his hotel room. Seriously, what a jerk. “I could probably sneak out if I really wanted to, but …” I trail off, hoping he doesn’t call my bluff. Ever since I challenged him that night at Logan’s, something has shifted between us, and I don’t think he wants to hang out with me any more than I want to hang out with him. But he can’t let me know that, because I’m another person he’s going to have working for him during the tournament, and he doesn’t want to lose me.

  “That’s okay,” he says. “I think we should probably take a break until the tournament in a couple weeks,” he says. He reaches out and brushes a piece of my hair out of my face. “Just chill out a little bit.”

  “Good idea,” I say.

  “I should probably hold off on having too many late nights,” he says. “I have to focus on school. But I’ll call you and let you know what’s going on.” And then he winks at me.

  It’s so totally obvious that he’s blowing me off. And it’s even more obvious that he thinks I’m buying all his bullshit. But I know I have to play it cool, so I just smile and pretend I believe him.

  ? ? ? ?

  By the time I get to school, I. Am. So. Mad. Max is pulling his car into the parking lot at the same time I am, so I take the spot next to his, then get out of my car and climb into the passenger seat of his.

  “So get this,” I say, slamming the door shut with all my might.

  “Whoa,” Max says. “Chill, this car isn’t getting any younger.” But he’s laughing.

  “Sorry,” I say sheepishly. “I’m just SO MAD. I just came from seeing Cole and he told me—” I look at Max. “Are you ready for this?”

  “Yes,” he says, nodding seriously. “I’m ready for this.”

  “He told me that he has to ‘hold off on having too many late nights.’” I use air quotes to show just how completely ridiculous I think that is.

  “Wow,” Max says. “Way to blow you off.”

  “I know!” I say. “And after I totally got left out of our family dinner last night for my sister’s big celebration!”

  “What do you mean?” he asks. So I fill him in on how everyone went out without me. How I stayed in my room, trying to fall asleep until I heard them come home, laughing and talking about the food and the fun. How then they pulled ice cream out of the freezer even though apparently they’d already had dessert at the restaurant. And suddenly, my eyes are filling with tears, and I lean my head back against the headrest in Max’s car.

  “Hey, hey,” Max says. “It’s going to be okay.” He puts his arm around me and he pulls me in close to him, and it’s nice and he smells like soap and apple shampoo.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, pulling away. “All I’m doing lately is crying all over you.”

  I’m afraid to look up at him, because then our lips will be very close, and I’m not sure if I trust myself.

  “It’s okay,” he says. “I kind of like it.”

  My phone beeps then. A text from Cole. “Maybe we should hang out tonight after all.”

  “Oh. My. God,” I say, showing Max. “Total booty call!”

  “Total,” Max says.

  “He,” I say, my eyes narrowing, “is so going down.”

  ? ? ? ?

  Over the next two weeks, the following things happen:

  1. I become a very good actress. This is because I’m now playing two challenging roles: a) that of the girlfriend who is too stupid to realize that her boyfriend is blowing her off and possibly hooking up with Michelle, and b) that of a girl who is going along with Aces Up’s plan to fix the poker tournament, even though she is totally opposed to it.

  2. I get together for two meetings with Aces Up, where we learn the signals we’re going to be using for the tournament. Nothing big, basically just things like little stretches and pokes, to let people know when to bet or to fold or whatever. I looked it up online, and what they’re doing is called collusion, and it’s pretty serious.

  3. Other than sneaking out for these meetings with Aces, I am being a model daughter and student. I go home, do my homework, and then spend the rest of my time in bed, talking on the phone to Max or listening to music. Of course my parents still have no idea about the tournament, but honestly, I can’t tell them. They wouldn’t let me do it, they’d make me quit, they’d make me turn Aces Up in, and I could definitely get in trouble then. Bye-bye Wellesley. I’m probably not going to have the money to go to Wellesley now anyway, but I’d rather have to delay my admission because of financial reasons than because it was revoked. Plus I really don’t think I can stand disappointing my parents even more than they already are.

  4. Max and I don’t kiss agai
n. And even though it’s been a little bit flirty at times, I can’t help thinking maybe he really does only like me as a friend. And it’s fine, because I’m glad to have him back, in whatever way I can.

  The night before the National Championship of Poker, I tiptoe to the door of Robyn’s room and knock on it softly. I can hear her typing on the computer, so I assume she’s working on a paper or maybe IM’ing with Leonardo.

  “Come in,” she says, and I open the door and scoot into her room, shutting it behind me.

  “Hi,” I say.

  “Oh,” she says. “Hey.” She seems surprised that it’s me, and I don’t blame her. We haven’t really talked since she told my parents what happened. Which is horrible, when you think about it. I mean, she’s my best friend. At least, I hope she still is.

  “Um, I just wanted to say hi,” I say lamely. “And give you back this.” I hold out a T-shirt I borrowed from her a few weeks ago and never got around to giving back.

  Robyn looks back and forth from me to the shirt.

  “Are you serious?” she asks. She reaches out and touches the fabric.

  “Um, yeah,” I say. “I know I’ve had it for a while, but it was in the bottom of my laundry bag and I didn’t realize it until just now.”

  And then Robyn bursts into tears, right there in front of her computer.

  “Hey, hey, hey,” I say. “Why are you crying?” Is my sister that worked up over a T-shirt? Wow. I really should have returned it a lot sooner. I had no idea clothes made her so emotional.

  “Because,” she says, sniffling. “Because I totally told on you, I totally broke our trust of sisterhood, and it was only because I was worried about you, but I don’t know why I even did it … and I just feel horrible and now we hate each other!”

  “You hate me?” I ask.

  “No-ooo,” she wails. “But you hate me, so I was just pretending I was ignoring you so that I wouldn’t have to deal with the fact that you were ignoring me.”

  “So you were pretending that the ignoring was your idea?”

  “Yes,” she says. She plucks a tissue off the box on her desk and blows her nose. Robyn always has tissues around, because when you’re dating Leonardo, you never know when you’re going to be having a good cry.

  “Well, it worked,” I say. “I really did think you were ignoring me. But I’m really, really glad that you weren’t.”

  She smiles at me through her tears. “Shannon, what the hell is going on? I mean, why didn’t you talk to me, why didn’t you …”

  So I take a deep breath. And then I tell her everything, just like I told Max, and just like I told Mackenzie. About Cole. About the poker. About Cole’s plan, and about my plan. And about Max, and Wellesley.

  “Wow,” she says when I’m done. “Just wow.”

  “I know, right?” I say. “I mean, nothing like this ever happens to me, you know?”

  “Um, nothing like this ever happens to anyone,” she says. “So now you have to go along with their plan?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “Just for this one tournament, and then I’m done, I swear.”

  Robyn hesitates for a second, like she wants to say something else, and for a horrible moment I’m afraid she’s going to insist we tell my parents. But finally she just nods.

  “And, Robyn?” I say. “You did the right thing, telling Mom and Dad. I love you.” And then I give her a hug.

  ? ? ? ?

  The morning of the tournament dawns bright and clear, and I take that as a good sign. I’m always better when the sun’s out. I dress in my jeans and light blue zip-up hoodie. Screw Cole and his “you have to look sexy to play sexy” or whatever his stupid theory is. I say you have to dress comfortably to play well. Or at least to, you know, trick your underground poker society into thinking you’re a cheater.

  When I get outside to my driveway, there’s a car parked in it along with mine. It’s not Robyn’s. Or Leonardo’s. Or Mackenzie’s. Or my parents’. It’s a car I don’t recognize. Ohmigod. What if Cole sent someone here to escort me to the tournament? What if he sent someone here to threaten me? Or worse, what if he found out my plan, and he sent someone here to make sure I cooperate? I’m about two seconds away from screaming when Max pokes his head out of the driver’s side window.

  “Hey,” he says. “I thought we could go together.”

  ? ? ? ?

  He brought me a coffee! A Starbucks coffee with sugar-free Cinnamon Dolce syrup, which is my absolute favorite coffee ever. And he remembered! He was paying attention and listening, and he brought me a coffee, and that is so super-sweet. And he even had to borrow his mom’s car, since his is in the shop, getting new tires. He totally went out of his way for me.

  I know that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. I get Robyn coffees all the time. I’m sure he was just being nice. I know from reading He’s Just Not That Into You that if a guy isn’t kissing you, he’s, you know, just not that into you.

  Still.

  I covertly text Mackenzie on the way to the tournament: “Max brought me coffee this morning and totally remembered what I liked, what do you think about that?”

  The reply comes immediately: “He totally wants you!!!!!”

  My face turns red, and I hope Max doesn’t notice. We’re riding over together. He insisted. He said that I needed to decompress on the car ride and clear my head.

  What he doesn’t know is that I’m way more nervous riding over with him, because now all I can think about is that he brought me coffee, and that Mackenzie says he wants me. Not that I think she means he wants to have sex with me, but more that she means he’s interested in me. Doesn’t she? Oh, God. Maybe she does mean that he just wants to have sex. That wouldn’t be so great. I’ve had enough of guys who just wanted to have sex with me. Not that Cole just wanted me for sex, but he definitely just wanted to hook up.

  This is all very confusing. I’m contemplating sending Mackenzie a follow-up text for clarification, but we’re pulling into the garage of the casino, so I make a mental note to ask her later.

  “You ready?” Max asks.

  “Ready!” I say. But I’m really nervous. The tournament is going to be starting in an hour. One. Hour. What if it doesn’t work? What if they figure out what I’m doing? What if they turn me in for being underage? What if they kill me? What if they—

  “You can do this,” Max says. He puts his hand on my shoulder and rubs it softly.

  “Right,” I say, my voice strangled.

  “Think about it,” he says. “In a few hours, this whole thing will be over.”

  “Max—” I say, then swallow. But Max is out of the car and over on my side now, opening the door for me. I get out, and I don’t know if it’s all the caffeine or what, but I’m a little wobbly.

  “Hellooooo! Wait for me, wait for me!” Robyn’s voice screeches across the parking garage, followed by Robyn herself. She’s wearing a long black dress and high heels, which are making clicking noises as she runs.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?” she says, out of breath from running. “I heard the car starting up, and I followed you all the way here.” She puts a pout on her face. “I had to do my makeup in the car!”

  “I didn’t know you wanted to come,” I say. My parents left early this morning to visit my Grandma Card, and they put Robyn in charge of me. They didn’t say that exactly, but it’s totally what they meant. They said I could leave the house as long as Robyn was with me, so I figured Robyn would cover for me and tell them we were together during the day, but I had no idea she’d actually come to the tournament with me.

  “Of course I wanted to come,” she says. “Did you think I wouldn’t be here?” She squeezes my arm, and I grab her in a hug.

  “Hey,” Max says to Robyn as we walk toward the elevators.

  “Hey, Max,” Robyn says. “Nice to see you.”

  “You too,” Max says. And then, when he’s not looking, she elbows me in the side. I grin. Robyn and I are definitely back to normal.
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  When we get inside to the tournament room, Robyn and Max hightail it to the refreshments cart, and I find Cole, who’s leaning against the wall, looking bored. The tournament is going to start in half an hour.

  “Hey,” I say, pushing him in the shoulder.

  “Hey, Shannon Card,” he says lazily. Hmmm. His eyes look a little bit weird. He could definitely be hung over. Not the best way to start the tournament, but whatever. Maybe he’s like one of those artists who need to be drunk to do their best work. “I like what you’re wearing,” he says sarcastically.

  “Thanks,” I say, ignoring the sarcasm. I figure the stupider I can convince him I am, the better. Not that it matters. It’s all going to be over soon enough, anyway. I take a deep breath and try to calm my beating heart.

  “You excited?” he asks.

  “Totally.” And then I kiss him on the cheek, turn around, and head to my seat.

  The tournament actually starts out kind of boring. For the first couple of hours, I don’t get very many good cards, there are tons of people still in, and I don’t end up at a table with any of the other Aces Up members. I’m doing okay on my chip count, winning a few little pots here and there, but honestly, I’m not really seeing that much action. Which is fine. The fewer chips I accumulate, the better. In fact, if I didn’t think it would look too obvious, I would get rid of all my chips immediately.

  We have a few breaks, when I eat sandwiches and grab coffee and go to the bathroom. I need to stay focused, so I don’t talk to Robyn and Max, who are sitting against the wall together. I just hope my sister isn’t saying anything embarrassing (like “What are your intentions toward my sister?” and “How do you feel about marriage?”), but I can’t really worry about that now. I have to focus on getting through this.