Chapter 2: Raising the Stakes

Ethan looked at me in disbelief and mocked, “Cody, your family’s broke now. What are you going to use to gamble with me?”

He made sure everyone could hear, flipping a poker chip with his thumb and wearing that half-smirk he always had—the same one he’d flash in the high school halls right before tripping me for laughs.

“Cody, don’t do this…” My dad opened his eyes weakly, reaching over to grab me, his voice trembling. “You can’t beat Ethan.”

It was the first time I’d seen real fear in his eyes at a card table, or anywhere. I remembered how he’d taught me to shuffle, told me there was always a way to win if you kept your cool. Now his confidence was gone, and my heart hammered with a mix of fear and anger.

“Don’t gamble.” My mom came over and grabbed my wrist, her knuckles white. Her wedding ring dug into my skin—a silent plea. Her eyes shone, threatening to spill over, but she bit her lip and tried to hold it together for me.

I glanced at my mom, but she averted her eyes, too ashamed to meet my gaze. Her shoulders slumped, like she’d shrunk two inches in ten minutes. I wanted to hug her, to promise it would be okay, but the anger kept me rooted.

Ignoring my parents, I turned and sat down at the card table. “Ethan, I still have thirty thousand dollars in my bank app.”

My hand shook as I pulled out my phone, showing the app’s balance. The aunts exchanged nervous glances, whispering behind their hands. I could almost hear their thoughts: He’s just a kid. Ethan snorted, unimpressed.

Ethan curled his lip. “Cody, thirty grand is nothing. Here, let me help you raise the stakes.”

He leaned forward, voice low, eyes cold. Uncle Dave watched, half-smiling, like he was proud of Ethan’s ruthlessness.

“Go ahead.” I tried to sound steady, but my palms were slick with sweat. My mind raced, trying to predict his move.

His greedy eyes drifted to the door, where Rachel stood by the doorway, tall in her black lace dress, pretending to scroll her phone. Her shoulders were tense, every muscle pulled tight, like she was bracing for a blow. The sequins on her dress caught the hallway light, making her look out of place—like a stranger at her own party. The smell of someone’s cheap cologne hung in the air, thickening the tension.

Ethan grinned, “Why not make it interesting? If you lose, Rachel owes me a date—just the two of us, no questions asked.” He bit his cigarette and blew a smoke ring at me.

The words landed like a punch. The room went dead silent, except for the faint hum of the old fridge in the kitchen.

My face burned. I wanted to leap across the table, but my legs felt like they were made of stone. I couldn’t even look at Rachel. The humiliation twisted in my gut, and I clenched my jaw, heat crawling up my cheeks.

The relatives muttered that Ethan was drunk, but he just threw a stack of cash on the table and barked, “I’m loaded—I do as I please! If you can’t afford it, just shut up.”

The bills landed with a dull thud. Uncle Dave just laughed, a laugh with no warmth. A few cousins snickered, shifting their beer bottles. Aunt Linda rolled her eyes but stayed silent.

Nobody wanted to admit it, but after winning a million from my dad, Ethan had the whole room under his thumb. The air was thick with resentment and old grudges.

“Cody, don’t gamble!” My dad rushed over, grabbed my arm, his voice shaking. “I’m begging you, let’s just go home.”

He was shaking so hard, it looked like he’d aged a decade since lunch. I looked at his hands—calloused, stained from decades at the plant. Guilt twisted in my stomach.

If I lost, Rachel would be humiliated. My dad would never recover from the shame. It wasn’t just about money anymore—it was about pride. I looked around and saw the doubt on every face: nobody thought I could win.

“Dad, I have to do this!” I stared at him and shouted, voice cracking. “If you don’t let me, I’ll smash my head against the wall and die right here!”

My desperation echoed in the room, and Aunt Linda stared at me, horrified. My dad’s shoulders sagged as he let go of my arm, defeated.

Seeing how stubborn I was, my dad slumped to the floor in despair, head in his hands. Nobody moved to help him. Even the little kids fell quiet.