2
Oh, Lord Almighty Cash!
Games were a sacred tradition for Tagus students.
Just off campus, there was an open-air field without any rules.
There were tables everywhere. The trees had been decorated with fairy lights, and music was blasting from a DJ booth.
The place was packed. Some students were walking around holding bottles and smoking.
Others were sitting, playing games of chance.
Wherever I looked, there were smiles, cunning eyes, and people appearing sure of themselves.
Everyone was dressed to the nines, and nobody looked like they were having an existential crisis.
Or suffering at all. Only unnaturally flawless guys and girls, with pimple-free faces, like they’d been spawned by gods and horny angels.
I didn’t know it yet, but they were far from angels. Like, really far.
Me and Artie headed straight to a table where a guy and a girl were chatting and having a drink. I had to put on my best face if I wanted to fit in.
“These are the guys I hang out with,” Artie introduced them.
The girl shook my hand first.
“Kiana,” she said with a firm but friendly grip, and added, “I love your T-shirt.”
The print on my T-shirt read you are whatever comes out of your mouth. I loved T-shirts that made others uncomfortable.
But Kiana’s style wasn’t bad either. She had Viking braids, and her skin was a perfect caramel color. She looked like a mix between an artsy person and a girl with money, wearing worn yet fabulous jeans, a knit sweater that fell below her hips, and lace-up boots.
I made a mental note that this girl could sell joints and lead an army to war at the same time.
Then the guy shook my hand. He had a light tan and lots of freckles scattered across his nose, yet there wasn’t anything simple or plain about the way he looked.
If I had to describe him in two words, they would be fabulously extravagant.
He was wearing an electric-blue jacket, a gold bow tie with sequins, and casual jeans.
The way everything came together was as striking as his green eyes.
He had highlights in his honey-colored hair, and the finishing touch was the cleft in his chin, subtle yet interesting.
“Dashton,” he introduced himself with a rather charismatic voice. “But my family calls me Dash because it doesn’t sound as gay.”
“What should I call you then?” I asked him.
“Dashton,” he replied with a wink.
I smiled back at him.
Nice people. This wasn’t so bad after all.
Kiana started filling a glass from the keg next to the table.
“Wow, Artie, you’ve been lucky with your roommate this year,” she said as she waited for the glass to fill up.
“I’m rooming with a really strange girl who’s afraid her tongue will swell if she speaks.
I invited her out, and she just looked at me before going into the bathroom and flushing the toilet repeatedly. Creepy.”
She turned again and offered me the glass she’d just filled. I shook my head.
“It’s German beer,” Dash clarified, clearly offended when he saw my gesture.
“Beer doesn’t sit well with me,” I refused again.
This wasn’t entirely true. I loved beer. Turning one down was like committing a sin, but it was my first day, I didn’t know them well, and for someone with secrets, booze is their greatest foe.
“It’s not spiked, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he assured me, taking a big swig from his glass to prove it. He downed it all in one go, followed by a burp and a great big smile. “See?”
I wondered if a sip would be really such a big deal. I could pretend I was drinking, couldn’t I?
“Let her be, Jude’s different.” Artie came to the rescue with her glass already full. “To start with, she didn’t even know who the Cashes were.”
Kiana and Dash looked at me as if to say no way. Then Dash snorted like it was the most absurd thing he’d ever heard.
“She must be lying,” he said, sure of himself. “Not knowing of the Cashes is like not knowing the Kardashians or something. There’s no way you haven’t heard of them at some point.”
Kiana let out an annoyed sigh.
“If we’re going to start talking about the demonic trio, let me know so I can start downing drinks faster.”
Dash cupped a hand to his mouth, like he was sharing a secret.
“Kiana doesn’t like talking about them,” he whispered to me.
“I don’t like it when people say good things about them,” she corrected him.
Interesting. Kiana didn’t like them.
“Artie said everyone loves the brothers,” I mentioned, trying to gather information.
Kiana shrugged.
“Yeah, some people are obsessed with them. What was that article that was put out about them last year?” Dash asked in a sarcastic tone.
Kiana spoke while dramatically outlining a headline in the air with both hands: “Aegan is the political future, Aleixandre is the social future, and Adrik is the humanitarian future.”
Dash said, “I just think they’re the future of bullshit,” then laughed. For some reason, Artie didn’t. She just sipped her drink and looked away, seeming to brush off Dash’s comment.
Kiana gave Dash a quick nudge that prevented me from asking what he had meant.
“Enough about those freaks, okay?” demanded Kiana.
Then she turned her attention to me. “Jude, it’s time for you to take a good swig of your beer, and you can’t back down because it’s a student law we all have to abide by—including you, if you want to pass the hazing ritual I just made up. Let’s go.”
Feeling the peer pressure, I agreed. And that was my first mistake.
No. It might’ve been my BIGGEST mistake.
“To the hazing ritual,” I replied as the four of us clinked our glasses together.
It was a rite of passage.
As soon as the beer hit my mouth, my taste buds screamed like Minions: “It tastes great!”
Within an hour, I’d drunk three glasses, enough to feel a nice buzz. The only reason I didn’t get completely wasted was because I kept having to pee . . .
By the time I realized I should probably have called it quits, I was having too good of a time.
I hadn’t spilled any secrets, and Kiana, Dash, and Artie were nicer than I’d expected.
They got sarcasm and weren’t show-offs. And they didn’t just talk about the Cash brothers.
They were just as tipsy as I was, so we were all laughing our heads off about God knows what!
I wondered if I could get along with them like a normal girl. Although it was hard to believe I was normal.
Loud whistles suddenly cut through our ridiculous laughter.
An hour had passed. Looking around curiously, we saw Aegan and Adrik had shown up a few tables over.
They were about to take their seats along with a couple of other guys.
This time I didn’t look at them but at the other two.
One was standing next to Aegan and looked like he had no intention of joining in the game.
He was the third brother, Aleixandre. Don’t ask me how I knew; I just did.
He looked like the little brother: a bit thinner, with the same imposing and striking demeanor of his brothers, but with his hair perfectly combed back and a sparkling, seductive gaze.
He was dressed differently from the others, wearing a turquoise T-shirt and what I called prince trousers because every prince from Disney movies wore khaki trousers.
Oh, and the most impeccable shoes I’d ever seen in my life.
He wasn’t an earthquake or the calm before the storm. That guy seemed next-level: he seemed like salvation.
So, now having seen all three, I could tell them apart.
Aegan was effusive; Adrik, indifferent; and Aleixandre was fun.
“What’s going on?” I asked, curious.
“Probably a poker game,” Dash replied, looking down at the table. “Aegan is really fucking good. When he plays, nobody stands a chance.”
“But I thought he’d stopped,” Artie added, a little confused, “because nobody wanted to play against him.”
“Didn’t you know?” Kiana replied. “Aegan can’t go more than a week without beating someone at something or he’ll break out in a rash.”
A total of seven guys sat around the table, including Adrik and Aegan. One pulled out a deck of cards and started dealing them out like a true pro. Meanwhile, I noticed Aleixandre leaning toward Aegan to say something to him, then Aleixandre nodded and unexpectedly walked away.
Hmm . . . strange.
“Let’s go over and watch the game,” I suddenly suggested, and with everyone staring at me, I added, “Can we?”
“Sure, sometimes someone loses all their money and you can overhear them calling for their daddy.” Dash raised his shoulders. “It’s fun.”
The girls shared a glance and ultimately agreed.
Artie had hesitated for a minute but ended up coming around.
We weren’t the only ones with this idea; a crowd was now milling around the table, turning the game into a public spectacle.
It was kind of dark in that part of the huge field, but I took advantage of being so close to quench my curiosity about the Cash brothers.
I quickly spotted a few other differences.
Adrik’s nose was straight. Aegan’s nose had a very slight curve.
Adrik’s gaze was cautious, cold, and difficult to read. Aegan’s gaze was sparkling, cunning, and sarcastic.
Adrik seemed to be studying other people’s movements. Aegan looked like he knew he’d win.
Adrik was an enigma.
Aegan was a challenge.
My tipsy brain wasn’t up to any more inventive descriptions, so I ended up focusing on the game.
I watched silently, taking gulps from my glass.
Players and spectators looked at the cards and then at Aegan.
There was no need to watch anything else when the whole game was meaningless.
There were no reckless bets or tension, because everyone knew that Aegan would win.
He was sure of it, too. You could see it on his face. His narrow eyes and sarcastic smile gave off an unbearable smugness.
He and Adrik placed a moderate bet that the rest called, and then there was a little bit of action. Hands. Bigger bets. Bank notes. Slight but significant tells. Silence. The occasional whisper.