Today is June 30. That spells payday! I haven’t looked at my account all month—it’s been taking care of itself. But only one of my bets didn’t come through for me. I’m going to get a decent wad of cash.
It’ll be the first time I’ve seen Luka since the concert. We’ve texted back and forth a couple of times, but it’s been busy.
I may as well figure out what the July games look like. I pull out my phone and log in to my account.
Wait—what? That’s not my balance. I don’t owe—$2,923! But that’s my name…
I text Luka and he texts right back.
be right there
“Luka, something’s wrong with my account. I don’t know—maybe I was hacked.” I’m sitting in his car, staring at my phone.
“Let me see.” He takes the phone from me and tilts it so he can see the screen. “Looks right to me, Jack Attack.”
“It’s not though! I should be up $455. But it says I owe”—my voice gets tight—“almost $3,000.” I point to the extra charges that start May 1. “Look! There’s a whole new column!”
He doesn’t even glance at it. “The interest.”
Interest? And then I remember. Ten percent. Daily. You don’t want to get behind. It adds up. Very fast.
Oh no. I grab the phone and swipe the screen. Scroll back through.
I sag into the seat. He’s right.
Those bets I made to cover my losses. They weren’t big enough. My balance has been growing all month. And now…
Now I owe Luka $2,923. And the amount goes up 10 percent a day.
“But I can’t—where will I find—” My voice comes out like a siren. “I don’t have that kind of cash!”
“I know.” His mouth twists into a lazy half smile. “Don’t worry, Jack Attack. I told you. We can work something out. Some people would gamble on any game, you know. Even yours.” Luka watches me closely. “And with a little help from you…”
I lean away from him. “I don’t—I don’t understand.” But I think I do.
I have to get out of this car. Right now. I fumble for the door handle.
“Think about it, Jack Attack. I’ll be in touch.”
I sit on my bed, twitching. I need to fix this—fast. But how? How will I ever get that kind of cash? Would Danny buy my phone? Might get me a few hundred. Would someone lend me the money?
No, whispers a little voice. All you need is one big win.
One more bet. I grind my knuckles into my temples. That’s how I got here.
I scroll through the upcoming games. The Montreal game Thursday—$3,500 should do it. I do the math for three days of interest and groan. Better make that $3,600.
What if I lose? What then?