The cards were gathered, reshuffled, then spread once more across the table. Laughter resumed, lighter now, threaded with anticipation. Allan slid the deck to the center.
“Alright,” he said, glancing around. “Let’s begin.”
The first few rounds moved quickly.
A girl to my left drew a three… she drank, grimacing playfully as the others cheered. David pulled a two and immediately pointed at Frank, who rolled his eyes but took the shot anyway.
The rhythm settled into something almost predictable… draw, react, laugh, drink.
Beside me, Lyna leaned in slightly. “Stick close,” she murmured under her breath.
“I know,” I replied just as quietly.
When it was my turn, I reached for a card, my movements steady despite the tension coiled beneath my skin.
Seven.
“Thumb master,” Allan announced.
