Black Number Four Read Online Free PDF Page A

the table at Alpha Sig.
    “I think you can, too. Now, it’s time for me to turn in. You should do the same. Call me tomorrow when you’ve got everything squared away.”
    I nod, my eyes still stuck on the screen. “Night, Dad.”
    The phone falls from my hand and down onto the bed as I scroll farther. We have one class together – Thursdays at seven in the morning. Wonderful. So much for thinking I would have time to get my shit together before having to face her knowing she’s the one person standing between me and my future.
    My phone pings and I glance down to see a three-o’-five number illuminating the screen. I slide my thumb across the number and a text replaces the Dead Poets Society background.
    - Well, it looks like the tequila didn’t kill you. Still swearing it off forever? -
    A smile breaks across my lips.
    - Stalking me already? I don’t recall giving you my number. -
    - I’m a resourceful girl. -
    - I don’t doubt that. And yes, I’m still anti-tequila. You should feel lucky, I drank it just for you. -
    I wait a few minutes, but no other text comes through. A large breath vibrates through my chest as I exhale, staring at Skyler’s photo on the screen. Of all the shitty situations I could have found myself in, this had to be it?
    I had one mission – one stupid, minor agreement to attend my dream school. Get in with the up and coming young poker star and learn her tricks. Take my game to the next level. Get to the final table with her in Vegas and beat her. Make my name known. Win for my dad, for the dream he could never live, and for me – for my independence from him and my freedom to finally start living my own dream.
    - I think it’s you who should feel lucky, Four Eyes. See you around. -
    Fuck me. Lady Luck is definitely not on my side.
    Sighing, I plug my phone in to the charger on my bedside table and stare at Skyler a few more moments before closing my laptop and tucking it in my messenger bag. I set the alarm on my phone for six and shut off the light, falling onto my back and tucking my hands under my head. Immediately, my thoughts wander to Skyler laying in this same position earlier. My cock hardens and I curse, adjusting myself and rolling over to face the window.
    I can do this. I just met this girl, it’s not like I’ve been dating her for years or something. She has no ties to me and I have none to her. It’s simple. I get in with her, do what I have to do to figure out how to beat her in May, and then we go our separate ways. She’s damn sure not going to want to make out with me after she finds out I’m in the tournament. I’m not the kind of guy to lie and manipulate, but this is the one thing that stands between me and my dream, between me and the emancipation from all the shit that’s held me back until now. One tournament, one girl, one little game to be played and then I can move on and never look back.
    Except, I’m not so sure it’s going to be that easy.

    One thing I love about this campus – they have coffee everywhere, and damn do I need a cup this morning. I opt for the Starbucks outside of the Student Union, trying the Hazelnut Macchiato at the barista’s recommendation. I sip on the hot liquid for the rest of my walk until I reach the large double doors that lead to my first class – Writing for Television. I was surprised they even offered this class, and even more surprised when I saw that Skyler would be in it, too.
    There’s only ten minutes until class, yet I’m one of the first ones here. I guess punctuality isn’t a virtue valued at Palm South. I slide into a desk a few rows from the front and pull out my MacBook Air, opening a blank document to take notes. Syllabus week was always a joke at the community college back home, so I’m hoping it’s the same here, but who knows.
    The professor walks through the door two minutes late, his messenger bag overstuffed with God knows what as he balances it along with a folder in his left hand and a