all bets are off! WHO Luz & Colt. WHERE Colt & Simon's apartment, Coney Island. WHEN Pre-dated to Saturday afternoon. RATING C for Colt. SUMMARY Luz wants to test her skillz at a game of cards. STATUS In progress!
When he'd agreed to it over the phone, this had seemed like a really good, fun idea. Now that the two of them were more or less seated in the living room (Colt was sprawled on Simon's couch while It twitched happily on the chair - Luz had been relegated to the floor), it seemed that this Saturday was going to shape up into a particularly boring one.
It was hot inside the apartment, and Colt had stripped down to his wife beater and boxers, not giving a damn if Luz found any reason to protest. It was his apartment, his roommate's couch, and his underwear, so he was going to wear it if he wanted to. If Luz had a problem with it, she could stop being a stupid eighteen year old Catholic girl, because all of those things sure as hell would be much easier to change than trying to get Colt to put some clothes on when it was 85 degrees outside and the apartment had no fucking air conditioning, goddamn.
Colt wasn't exactly sure what they were supposed to be doing here. If "cards," as Luz had put it, were considered a sport, he was more than willing to hone her abilities (he'd seen this girl in the last couple of weeks predict with reasonable accuracy the outcome of several Yankees games, much to his chagrin), since something like that could end up being pretty damn lucrative in the long run. But Colt wasn't entirely sure that Luz even knew how to play "cards," let alone understand what she was supposed to be predicting. For all he knew, she was referring to Go Fish, and the two of them would end up casing a five year old's birthday party before she even got the idea of something like Vegas into her mind. She was weird like that. Little girls were bizarre.
"Whaddyou know how to play?" Colt said, voice slightly muffled because his chin was propped up against the couch as he dealt out two piles of cards, a standard five each to start with. Christ, he couldn't believe he was playing cards with some kid when he could be sleeping. He had half a mind to tell her to go make him a sandwich and then get out of here.
"I don't mean like, rummy and shit," he clarified after a moment.