Chapter 5

When Xander entered his granddad’s house to play poker, he hadn’t expected to find so many people there. Three tables sat nine players each, and all the seats were full, forcing Xander to sit out until someone quit or lost all their money.

Watching poker without knowing who held what cards was boring, which was why the players’ hands were shown on TV. But Xander had played enough in his last go-around that he was able to pick up some of the players’ tells as he watched.

Most were businesspeople from the area, with a few cops and government types mixed in. It reminded him of some of the home games he’d played in his first time around.

As he watched, most players folded before the river. So many hands were just guesswork. Most players seemed tight, meaning they didn’t risk their money unless they had a good hand. That was why the handful of more aggressive players took down most of the pots.

Xander knew that didn’t mean the aggressive players would win because they tended to have more chips in each hand. All it took was for them to run into some of the tight players’ winning hands to clean them out.

Finally, after nearly an hour, one of the aggressive guys lost three consecutive big pots and had to go home.

Xander took his seat and pulled out a couple hundred dollars to buy in.

“That’s a lot of money, son. Do you really want to risk it?” a woman in an Arkansas Razorbacks sweatshirt asked.

She’d been taking advantage of the men because they assumed she didn’t know what she was doing. He found her quite skilled and would keep an eye on her.

“My grandfather told me that if I wasn’t willing to risk the buy-in, I shouldn’t play. While I won’t be happy if I lose it all, I want to try this,” Xander said as he pulled out a sheet of paper.

“What’s that?” the woman asked.

“It tells me what beats what.”

That produced general chuckles around the table. This was the clear sign of a ‘fish’—a player who consistently makes rookie mistakes that lead to them steadily losing. That was the type of player any seasoned poker player loved to have at the table. They all eyed his stack with dreams of taking it home.

“Is this the first time you’ve played a game like this?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am. My grandfather said you’d all go easy on me, so I figured I would take a risk.”

Grandpa Davidson called out across the room, “Remember what I told you. A flush beats a straight.”

“That’s when they’re all the same color, right?” Xander asked.

“Suit,” Grandpa Davidson reminded him.

“I keep forgetting that,” Xander said.

Over the next thirty minutes, Xander misplayed a few hands to encourage his opponents. For these poker sharks, it was confirmation there was blood in the water. It didn’t take long before they would all be in any hand he stayed in, to take his chips.

Xander finally had a hand when he woke up with pocket sevens, one a heart and the other a spade. In his previous go-around, he’d used a trick at the World Series of Poker called ‘set mining.’ It was when a small pocket pair would catch a third card on the board to give him trips. Since it was well hidden, he usually won bigger pots.

When it was Xander’s turn to bet, he just called. That way, if he missed the flop—meaning cards came out higher than his sevens—and someone bet, he could fold.

When it came out, the flop was good to him: seven, king, seven. He held a nearly unbeatable hand. The best part was that two diamonds came out with it, increasing the chances that someone would get a diamond flush and consequently raise the pot.

He wasn’t surprised when one of the more aggressive players raised to twenty dollars, but it did surprise him when three other players called in front of him.

Xander looked around the table with a confused expression. After glancing at his cards, he took on a stubborn visage and threw in twenty dollars. The two players behind him quickly called. There was close to a hundred and fifty dollars in the pot.

The next card was the ace of diamonds. Now, anyone with an ace or king would have two pairs (aces and sevens or kings and sevens), a hand that usually won. If someone held two diamonds, they would have a flush, beating the two-pair hands.

The aggressive player threw in fifty dollars, which meant he had something. The following two folded. Xander swallowed hard and called. The next guy called, but the last one to act went all in. His was the big stack, at nearly three hundred dollars.

The aggressive player smiled and shoved all his chips in.

Xander wanted the guy who would act after him to call, so he said, “I’m not sure what to do.”

“If you’re not sure, you should fold,” the woman said, coaching him.

“But I have a pair,” Xander said.

He hesitated and then pushed all his chips into the center. The guy behind him decided he didn’t want to get involved, so he folded.

The aggressive player proudly turned over the queen and ten of diamonds for a flush. Next, the guy who went all in showed he had pocket kings, giving him a full house to take the lead. Everyone turned to Xander, who turned over quad sevens.

The dealer put out the last card, a meaningless three of clubs. He looked at the dealer as if to ask who’d won.

“Fuck me,” the aggressive player groaned.

The woman who’d been looking out for Xander looked him in the eye. “You little sandbagger. I won’t fall for your clueless act moving forward. But I plan to take all your chips as a lesson.”

By the night’s end, she’d given all her chips to Xander, but she wore a smile.

“Next month is at my house. I expect you to bring all that money with you so I get a chance to win it back.”

“Yes, ma’am. That only seems fair,” Xander said.

When she lost, it broke his table, the last one playing. His grandfather came over to see how he’d done. When he saw all the chips, he just shook his head. Xander had turned his two hundred dollars into nearly thirteen hundred.

He was a little irritated when his grandfather took all his money.

“This is going into the bank first thing Monday morning.”

Xander bit his tongue to keep from objecting. Then he remembered his dad. His grandfather was right; it needed to go into the bank for safekeeping.

Xander had just finished his run when his phone made an irritating noise. He’d ignored it yesterday because it usually was some spam message. People loved enticing old people into forking over their life savings, so he ignored it.

Then, a chirp sounded.

“Fuck it,” he mumbled and checked his messages.

There were ninety-eight, all from kids in his class. Somehow, he’d been included in a group chat, and they were discussing the dance.

John had spotted Donnie at his parents’ pharmacy; he resembled a raccoon with his two black eyes. Xander chuckled because it looked like he’d broken the boy’s nose.