Thin Lines

Your Tell

*This chapter contains stuff that might be triggering for some people to read*

Xela

"No way!" I laugh to Penny who is on the other side of the phone. Apparently Aliza had been able to buy her a new doll for her birthday which was today.

"Yup! I played with her all day!"

"I wish I could have been there" I tell her, genuinely feeling homesick. "Well Aliza said you would visit soon!" Her voice is so bright and full of life, I hope she never loses that.

I have a deep inhale at her words, knowing it will be hard to visit. "I will try, is Aliza there?" 

Penny gives the phone to Aliza, telling me one last goodbye.

"How are you?" Aliza asks, making me sigh. I can't burden her with the truth of how awful my moms husband is. "I'm doing fine, you?"

"We are great, but why did you leave all of this money?" Aliza sounds upset, but I know she is grateful. She worries about me just as much as I do her.

"Just to make sure you and Penny stay healthy, and fed."

Aliza tries to protest that she doesn't need it but the phone cuts off. "Shit" I mutter, turning my pockets inside out for change, just to come up empty.

I angrily put the phone back into the slot and leave the phone booth, the cold weather swallowing me up in nothing but a light jacket and shorts.

I'm glad I was able to call Aliza on her burner phone, one that she bought from a crappy convenience store days before I left.

As I walked down the alley, just the thought of being home pained me. My mom would beg and cry until I went out again to buy her drugs with the money we don't have to spare, and Paul would probably just try to hurt me again.

So instead of going home, I found a small bar not too far from town square. I knew I wasn't going to be able to get a drink, not that I wanted one. What interested me was the poker games at the back of the bar. When I was fifteen I got really into poker, that's how I made my money to support my mom and I. I eventually had to quit when the club got shut down for allowing minors to gamble.

I made my way over to the tables and sat down, ignoring the looks I was receiving from the men around me. I pushed a twenty to the middle of the table, not sure what stakes we were playing with.

After a few seconds I was sure I was about to be thrown out of the establishment, until a man took the twenty and pushed a few white chips my way. Damn. I was hoping twenty bucks could buy me just a little more than this. It was five dollars just to enter the game each round, so I had nothing to spare.

I looked at the man again, the dealer, and felt a familiar feeling wash over me. Pushing that aside, I watched him closely as he dealt to the seven other people at the table before finally getting to me. Instead of looking at my cards, my eyes scanned the men around me, taking in their reactions.

One bald man particularly sparked my interest by instinctively fixing his posture, his cards just barely pulled closer to his body. I kept my face flat as I bent the corner of my cards up from the table, my heart doing backflips as I peeked down at the double aces in my possession. As the flop happened, my eyes never left the bald man, who's eyes flickered to his chips as a king was flipped over, right after an ace.