Carswell's Guide to Being Lucky Read Online Free Page B

into her ears, and the conversation was over. In its
    wake was a feeling of disappointment that Carswel couldn’t quite place, but he didn’t think had very
    much to do with math.

    ~~~~~
    “Seven card royals,” said Carswell, dealing another hand of cards. “Aces are wild. Triplets beat the
    house.”
    “Why don’t we ever play that doubles beat the house?” asked Anthony, picking up his cards and
    rearranging them in his hands.
    Carswell shrugged. “We can play that way if you want. But it means the pots will be smaller. Not as
    much risk, not as big a payout.”
    “Triplets are fine,” said Carina, needling Anthony in the side with her elbow. “Anthony’s just afraid
    he’s going to lose again .”
    Anthony scowled. “It just seems like the odds are a little biased toward Carswell, that’s all.”
    “What do you mean?” Carswel waved his hand over the pot. “I’ve lost the last three hands in a row.
    You guys are bleeding me dry over here.”
    Carina raised her eyebrows at Anthony as if to say, See? Do the math. Antony duly fel quiet and tossed his ante into the pot. They were playing with markers scavenged from the school’s lunch bar –
    olives where micro-unives, potato crisps were singles, and jalapeno slices made for fivers. The trick was to keep Chien, who was seated on Carswell’s left and had the appetite of a whale, to keep from eating
    them in between games.
    At the end of every school day, Carswell – as “the house” – would divvy up the wins and losses
    between the players’ real savings accounts. He’d based his system on the same odds that casinos in the
    val ey used, al owing him to win about 60% of the time. It was just enough to turn a consistent profit,
    but also to give players frequent enough wins that they kept coming back. It had turned out to be one of
    his more profitable ventures to date.
    Carina took the next hand without much competition, but that was fol owed by a round in which no
    on could beat the house’s required triplets-or-better, ending Carswell’s losing streak. He kept the grin
    from his face as he raked the pot of food scraps into his dwindling pile.
    He quickly did the math in his head. He was up from where he’d started the lunch period, nearly
    fifty-five unives. Just twenty-nine more would put him at his goal for the day and push him into the next bracket of his savings account.
    Twenty-nine unives. Such a smal thing to just about anyone in this school, just about anyone in the
    entire city of Los Angeles. But to him, they equaled sixteen weeks of freedom. Sixteen weeks of being
    away from his parents. Sixteen weeks of total independence.
    He brushed his thumb over the Rampion tie tack for good luck, and dealt another hand.
    As the betting began, he glanced up and caught sight of Kate Fal ow sitting against a palm tree at the
    edge of the courtyard, the pleated skirt of her uniform pul ed snugly around her knees. She was reading
    from her portscreen – no surprise there – but it was odd to see her out here at all. Carswell had no idea where she normal y spent her lunch hour, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t in this courtyard, where he could always be found.
    The betting ended and Carswell began to dole out replacement cards, but now he was distracted.
    His gaze kept flicking back to Kate. Watching how she smiled at something on the screen. Mindlessly
    tugged at her earlobe. Seemed to sigh with a hint of longing.
    Maybe she came to the courtyard every day and he’d never noticed. Or maybe she’d come here
    today because he’d suggested it, even if the offer had ultimately been declined.
    Either way, it was clear from the faraway look in her eyes that she wasn’t in the courtyard right now,
    not real y, and he couldn’t help wondering where she was.
    Holy spades. Was he developing a crush on Kate Fallow ? Of all the girls who smiled and swooned
    and giggled, all the girls who would have handed over their math homework for nothing more than