Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 71082 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71082 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
That's my biggest problem with Kazex. He keeps giving me space, and I don't know how to read that space. Is it a friendly space or something more? He confessed he was in love with me when we first met, but a lot has happened in six months. I think Dopekh has fallen in love with three different people in six months. Things can change quickly. Kazex fell in love in a heartbeat. He might have just as easily fallen out of love. I might be the adorable kid sister in his eyes.
I...think I'm going to vomit if I've been kid-sister-ed.
So I make awkward conversation with him until the others pile in. Salvotor, Dopekh, Aithar, and Zaemen are all down to play sticks, along with Erzah and Kazex. Other than Kaz, I know I can absolutely clean everyone else out, which means I'm going to make a pretty penny tonight.
Neither Ruth-Ann or Ruth ever want to play sticks with the boys like I do. We have a set of playing cards that we made, but they don't get nearly as much use as the sticks set. It's just easy to toss them and haggle over how you think the pieces will fall and how much you should bid. It leaves a lot of time for shit-talking, which is pretty much the favorite pastime of several of the men. We head into the rec room and take over the main gaming table, and get comfortable with drinks and snacks.
A few hours later, I've got a fat pile of credits in front of me, and the others are nearly cleaned out.
"I don't get it," Salvotor complains. "How does she win so often?"
"She cheats," Zaemen declares, winking at me.
"Do not," I retort back, dragging another handful of winnings back towards my pile. "I can't help it if you guys suck."
"Maybe she can read minds," Aithar jokes, and holds a stick to his forehead. "What am I thinking right now, Ruthie?"
"You're thinking about scratching your balls," I joke back.
"That's an easy one," Ruth-Ann says, reaching out to ruffle Aithar's inky black hair. "He's a man. He's always thinking about scratching his balls."
Everyone laughs, even Aithar. I just grin with amusement, because they haven't figured out that I know how to read every single one of their tells. There's no mind-reading involved, just people-watching. I know Aithar twitches when he pulls a bad hand. Salvotor wears his thoughts on his face, so there's no need to think hard about reading him. Erzah taps his pinky against the table when he's thinking hard, which means he's got something. Dopekh will quickly look away from his hand and study everyone else as if trying to seem casual, which is a sure sign that he has something. Everyone on the ship that plays sticks has these subtle little movements I've learned to read.
Even Ruth-Ann. She doesn't like to play, but she does hang out and circles around the table, looking at people's hands and joining in on the jokes. She'll move quickly away from someone that has something good, as if she's trying to protect them. Her actions are well intended, but it has the opposite effect. I'm reading her now and making moves based on that.
Zaemen throws his hands up when he loses to me yet again in the next round. "I give up. I'm not playing Ruthie anymore. I might as well just keffing hand my entire wallet to her the moment I see her. There's no point in actually playing."
Inwardly, I wince a little at his frustration, but I know if I acknowledge it, it'll just make things worse. After months of playing near-nightly games with them, I know that Zaemen gets hotheaded when he loses and tends to run his mouth. I also know he'll come up to me later and apologize, embarrassed, for losing his temper. But for now, all I can do is pretend like I'm unbothered. I stack some of the credits in front of me while Aithar tosses handfuls of the playing sticks into the shuffler and everyone tactfully ignores the steam Zaemen is blowing off.
Everyone except Kazex. He picks up one of the fried leaves from one of the baskets and throws it at Zaemen's face. "It's not Ruthie's fault she's good at sticks. Get better or quit complaining."
The leaf slaps against Zaemen's nose and leaves an oily smear on the bridge before flopping to the table. Zaemen jerks to his feet, glowering at Kaz. "Kef you."
Kaz gets to his feet, too, not backing down. "Say what you like about any of us, but don't say shit about Ruthie. Understand me?"
I sit in silence, feeling awkward. I was already planning on handing back credits to the others at the end of the gameplay. It's about the fun, not about the money, and I've given credits back more often than I've kept them. I know Zaemen's saving up for something big, just like Erzah's been saving up for his cantina concept. Tempers run hot after a few drinks at the sticks table, because the guys also run their mouths as much as they throw sticks. That's just how it is. People get pissy and then it's all forgotten in the morning and everyone has a good laugh.