Midnight. The perfect hour for poker. The lights were dim and the drinks were plentiful. The players gathered around a long circle, cards in hand and chips thrown in the center. Dorm 1 never felt livelier.
Brown looked around. He wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead.
Splats was easy to read. She didn’t have a poker face, and whenever she got a bad card she’d usually just fold. Or bet a thousand. There was no in between.
Skyber on the other hand… she was a natural. A face like dead stone, hands like immovable statues. Contrast to his sweaty, shaking palms.
As of now he was about eighteen hundred chips cheaper than the other two. He won the first two rounds, sure, but those were the easy ones. Nobody was drunk yet. The most he won for each were a measly two or three hundred. Now it was serious.
Skyber took another swig of Big Bill. “Splats. You have the big blind.”
The carrot top laid out her chips. She looked to Brown to pay the small blind.
“Just so we’re clear, this isn’t actual money we’re betting, is it?” The boy asked.
“Who ever said that?” Skyber leered.
“I dunno about you, Brown, but I’m not a pussy over a card game!” Splats declared. “Now place the 50 already!”
He reluctantly complied. A 3 of Spades and a Jack of Diamonds. That’s all he had between him and potential bankruptcy.
Skyber laid out the first three cards. “5 of Hearts, 3 of Hearts, and… Queen of Diamonds.”
“Check,” Splats said.
“Check,” the other two agreed. Skyber laid out the fourth card. “Ace of Spades.”
“Ugh! Fold, not feeling it anyways,” the young girl tossed her cards in. The dealer took them in.
So much for being a pussy over cards.
“Wise choice. I’m raising three hundred.” The dragoness slid in three red chips.
Another bead of sweat for Brown. He had a pair now, but what did his opponent have? He gulped. “Call.”
“…Not so wise a choice.”
“You’re one to talk.”
“Cocky, eh?” She put down the final fifth card. “Three of Clubs.”
Brown coughed. That was three of a kind. Skyber had been bluffing junk this whole night. One pair over junk would be hell of a lot better than folding for the fourth time in a row.
“How about another check, Brown?” The dealer offered.
Brown put in a silver chip. “Raise 500.”
Skyber’s irises, for the first time today, widened ever so slightly. They turned back to stone just as quickly. “Big Bill is getting to you, boy. But I’m not one to back down now. Raise 200.”
Seven hundred down the drain. If Brown folded now he’d have to pay 70 real dollars tomorrow morning. No turning back now. Not with her bluff.
“Raise 300.”
“Raise 50.”
“Raise 100.”
“Raise another 50. Last chance to call.”
“All in!” Brown had now put in all of his chips in the pot. His heart was about to give out.
The dragoness paused. She give a small smirk. “I admire your tenacity, Brown. You’re braver than you look.” She took a handful from her mound of greens, reds, silvers, and yellows, tossing them in the pot. Splats leaned over and stole a glance at Brown’s cards.
“Oh, you’re going down, horns-for-brains! You haven’t gotten a hand like this in like, ever! Brown, show ‘em!”
The boy wiped a waterfall from his head, slamming the cards down. “Three of a kind!”
The dragoness sighed. She grabbed her mug and drank.
“Impressive. You almost had me.”
She showed a Three of Diamonds and a Queen of Hearts. “Full House.”
Brown’s heart gave out. He collapsed on the floor, groaning. Splats burst into laughter.
“Don’t feel too bad,” the dealer said, raking in her winnings, “if you had another 50 to bet you would’ve won that round. Splats, shall we continue?”
“Hell yeah!”
Brown would have to pay $375 out of his pocket before tomorrow noon.