He brushed his thumb over his Rampion tie tack for good luck and dealt another hand.
As the betting began, he glanced up and caught sight of Kate Fallow sitting on the low stone wall that surrounded the courtyard, the pleated skirt of her uniform pulled 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 normally 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 and tapped her heels against the wall. 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 really, 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 a flirtatious compliment, and he suddenly couldn’t keep his eyes off one of the most awkward, isolated girls in the school?
No, there had to be more to this. He was probably just confusing his desperation to raise his math grades and lift his dad’s punishment with something that bordered on romantic interest. He didn’t like Kate Fallow. He just wanted Kate Fallow to like him so he could swindle her out of her math homework.
Just like he swindled everyone.
There it was again. That peculiar tingle of shame.
“Ha! Suited triplets!” said Chien, laying out his cards. The other players groaned, and it took Carswell a moment to scan the hands and determine that, indeed, Chien had taken the round. Usually he could pick out the winning hand in half a glance, but he’d been too distracted.
As Chien scooped up his winnings, Carswell determined that he probably should have quit while he was ahead after all. He was back down to eight univs won for the day, ten behind his goal.
Boots would not be impressed.
“Well done, Chien,” he said. “One more hand?”
“There won’t be time for it if our dealer goes out to space again,” said Anthony. “What’s wrong with you?”
He cringed, the words reflecting his father’s question from just that morning. “Nothing,” he said, shuffling the cards. “Just had something on my mind.”
“Oh, I see what he was looking at,” said Carina. “Or should I should say who.”
Chien and Anthony followed Carina’s gesture. “Kate Fallow?” said Anthony, with a curled lip that said he highly doubted she was the person who had caught Carswell’s interest.
Ducking his head, Carswell redistributed a new round of cards, but no one picked them up.
“He was flirting with her in lit class this morning,” said Carina. “Honestly, Carswell. Everyone knows you’re a hopeless flirt, but do you really have to get every girl in the whole school to fall under your spell? Is this some sort of manly conquest you’re on or something?”
It was easy for Carswell to slip back into his most comfortable role. Cupping his chin in one hand, he leaned toward Carina with a suggestive smirk. “Why? Are you feeling left out?”
Groaning, Carina shoved him away, at the same time that the speakers announced the end of lunch hour. A groan rose up from the courtyard but was hastily followed by the sounds of footsteps padding back into the buildings and friends bidding each other good-bye for the whole ninety minutes they were about to be separated.
Carswell gathered up the cards he’d just dealt and slipped them back into his bag. “I’ll tally the winnings,” he said, shooing away a fly that was buzzing around the pile of food.
“How do we know you won’t take a little extra for yourself?” asked Chien, with unhidden distrust.
Carswell only shrugged. “You can stay and count up your own if you’d prefer, but then we’ll both be late to class.”
Chien didn’t argue again. Of course, a lost univ or two was nothing to any of them, so what did it matter if Carswell skimmed a little off the top?
By the time he’d entered the balances into his portscreen and put in a reminder to shuffle the money between their accounts when he got home, the courtyard had emptied but for him and the seagulls that were creeping in to pick at the scraps of abandoned food. Carswell slipped his portscreen back into his bag beside the deck of cards and heaved it over one shoulder.