Chapter 43
Chapter
Forty-Three
Luna
“May I present the largest arcade in the state of Nevada,” Vince announces as he holds open the door.
“Wild times in Vegas,” I tease him. We landed earlier, settling into our hotel and grabbing a quick bite before tomorrow’s tournament.
“You’re not old enough to gamble, but even if you were, I still wouldn’t let you throw money away.”
“So sports bettors are throwing money away?” I challenge him.
“Put the claws away ; we’re having what the kids call a good time.”
I cringe. “What have I told you about that phrase?”
He laughs, ushering me inside. We play it all: air hockey, basketball, pinball, with me still sucking.
We move to the claw machine, but I come up empty.
“Dammit, I’m not leaving here until I get a stuffed animal.” I’m down to my last four quarters. I hold them up dramatically before feeding the claw machine.
“You’ve got this.” Vince claps.
Leaning over, I move the handle dead center of my target. I smack the button, and the claw descends, grabbing a wolf stuffed animal. “Yes!” I jump up and down as the claw deposits the wolf into the chute. “Look at this luck!” I grab my wolf, holding it up triumphantly.
“No such thing,” Vince barks.
I shirk back, clutching the stuffed animal. “What?”
Vince’s eye blinks rapidly, like he’s waking up from a bad dream. “It’s time to head back to the hotel.”
“Yeah, okay,” I say, not understanding his reaction and bizarre mood swing.
Back at the hotel, I sneak to the bathroom with my phone. Reading the message from my mom, I type my response and hit send before I can second guess myself.
Vince
Luna’s been on fire this entire tournament, having made it to the last round with none other than Brit Boy.
I position myself in the spectator area so I can see Brit Boy’s face, as well as Aspen’s, who’s also in the crowd. She didn’t make the cut for the tournament, so I have to wonder why she’s here. Perhaps she thinks she’s in a relationship with Brit Boy, and not a situationship .
She sticks her hand in her pocket, leaving it there. Brit Boy glances her way before turning his attention to the board .
Huh . Or it could be something else. Like hand signal cheating.
Luna and Brit Boy have been locked in battle for hours, but I still don’t know enough about chess to determine who has the advantage. The odds I can calculate, but I have no clue what those moves look like played out.
At this point, the same pieces are being shuffled around the board, and Brit Boy extends his hand, and Luna accepts the draw. That means Armageddon tiebreaker. The rules I’m unclear on, but I can’t ask Coach beside me, as talking isn’t allowed in the spectator section.
There’s a coin flip, and five minutes is put on Luna’s clock, with four minutes given to Brit Boy.
The game begins with Luna moving her white piece lightning-fast and hitting the clock, and no sooner has she done so than Brit Boy makes his move and taps the clock. It’s insanely fast, and I’m having a hard time keeping up.
Luna’s winning smiles, though, tells me all I need to know.
Luna
After the trophy presentation and paperwork and press circuit, I get a moment to catch my breath with my coach and Vince.
“ Lui stava barando ,” Coach declares. He was cheating. “Not in rapid; that moved too fast, but in your draw game.”
“ Non mi interessa. Ho vinto .” I don’t care. I won. I kick Vince under the table .
“Let Luna enjoy her victory,” Vince tells my coach. “We can talk strategy when we get back to Jersey.”
“But—”
“I’m her manager, and that’s the final word,” Vince tells my coach in an icy tone.
“Ah!” Coach waves his hand in annoyance, but backs down.
Vince escorts me out of the lobby and onto the Vegas Strip.
“What are we doing? I need to go back to the room and pack.”
"When were you going to sneak away to see your mom?” Vince asks.
“As soon as you went to the bathroom,” I admit.
He shakes his head with a smile. “Come on. I’ll take you.”
“Really? But you don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Doesn’t matter what I think. Where to?”
I read him the address my mom sent me, and he waves us down a taxi. We crawl in the backseat, and Vince relays the address.
“You sure about that? It’s not somewhere I’d recommend for tourists,” our cab driver warns.
“We’re sure.” Vince squeezes my knee.
We leave the strip, entering a rough part of town and to an even rougher tenement apartment. I look over to Vince, who has a guarded expression.
He hops out and opens my door for me. “Need you to hang around. We’ll be finished?—”
“No fucking way I’m hanging in this neighborhood,” the cabbie says.
“I’ll pay you double if you stay.”
“Triple.”
Vince curses. “Triple.” Turning to me, he takes my hand. “Let’s go.”
Vince
I shield Luna against my body as I knock on the door.
A woman appears, and Luna gasps. It’s her mom, but the photo compared to the person standing in front of us is night and day. Ms. Barone’s a hundred pounds soaking wet, with deep smokers wrinkles, and those tell-tale methhead teeth. Latest possession charges are still pending, per the background report I ran on her.
“Luna,” she says, clutching her heart. She looks at me, a little flicker of annoyance she easily masks.
“Can we come in?” I ask. The longer we stand out here, the higher the odds someone attempts to mug us.
“Of course. Come in.”
We enter the apartment, with the haze of cigarette smoke filling the room. It’s tiny and run down, but somewhat orderly, with an oxygen machine prominently on display next to the couch.
“Is that yours?” Luna asks.
Her mom coughs as if on cue. “Yeah. I’m glad you came to see me. Got lung cancer, so it’s hard for me to be out and about with the chemo. Sit down, sit down.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Which hospital do you receive your chemo treatments?” I glance to the kitchen, and Luna follows my gaze. I’m hoping she’ll notice there’s no prescription pill bottles lining the counter.
“Who are you?” Luna’s mom asks, quickly figuring out I’m going to be a problem.
I smile politely, envisioning snapping this woman’s neck. “ A friend of Luna’s.”
“We’re not friends, Vince.” Luna turns to her mom. “He’s my manager.”
“Which hospital did you say?” I press.
“Oh, I go to the hospital a few miles from here. I catch the bus. It’s hard on my chemo days, but my car broke down, and I don’t have the money to get it fixed. Anyway, enough about me. Luna, I’m so proud of you. Saw on the news that you won the big chess competition today.”
“Thanks.” Luna shifts uncomfortably on the worn couch. “You’d mentioned in your message you wanted to talk about why you left me with dad,” she says.
Her mom coughs, a deep smoker’s cough that sounds like a lung might be expelled in the process. “I couldn’t take the abuse. I was going to come back and get you after I set myself up here in Vegas, but things didn’t work out like I’d hoped.”
“You didn’t become a showgirl?” Luna asks.
Her mom laughs bitterly. “Do I look like a showgirl?”
“What is it exactly that you want from Luna?” I interject.
Her mom’s eyes soften as she looks at her daughter. Give this woman a fucking Emmy. “To see my daughter. I thought we could get to know each other. What little time I have left. The cancer, it’s terminal…” She trails off.
“I’m so sorry,” Luna says. “Do you have other kids?”
Her mom shakes her head. “Only you.” Will you look at that? The woman can tell the truth.
“Do you have anyone to help you?” Luna wonders.
Her mom shakes her head, crocodile tears spilling from her bloodshot eyes. “I just need a little money to tide me over until next month’s government check comes through. I got these hospital bills piling up.”
“I’ll be happy to stop by the hospital and personally pay your bill,” I interject, calling her bluff. “Give me the name.”
“Oh, well,” she stumbles, dabbing her eyes. “I mean, I go to a bunch of different doctors offices, so it isn’t just the hospital.”
“Show me your bills. We’ll figure this out,” I say, undeterred.
“I get them all electronically now.”
“Pull them up on your phone,” I tell her.
“My phone’s battery isn’t working.”
I flash a friendly smile. “Hand it over. I’m sure I can fix it.”
“Before someone stole my phone on the bus,” she lies.
“What’s your email? I’ll pull it up on my phone.”
“I don’t remember.”
Luna silently watches the back and forth.
“You won that fancy tournament,” Luna’s mom speaks directly to her daughter. “Said grand prize was $50,000. Can’t you help your dying mother out?”
“I’m ready to go,” Luna quietly tells me.
I take her hand, giving it a squeeze as I lead her to the door.
“That’s it?” her mother shouts at Luna’s back. “You become a bigshot and think you’re too good for me?”
I fucking know Luna’s too good for this woman, but I bite my tongue as we walk out.