"And, you won again." The brown-haired boy was not angry, just slightly irritated at himself. He could not remember ever having beaten the yellow- haired girl in any card game. Ever. Even though he had known her since before he could really remember. Kindergarten, he guessed. They had been in the same class. Never really were good friends until middle school, when the other was the only one either knew. They had bonded then, and kept the bond for these past years. Every morning they played cards on the bus on the way to school. Every day during lunch, they played cards in the cafeteria. Every afternoon they played on the bus on the way home. Never in all those years had he ever known her to lose a game of cards. They decided somewhere in there that they were going to go to Vegas when they turned twenty-one and win the jackpot; they had spent an entire semester finding out everything they could about betting and casinos. With her luck, they would be millionaires.

"This comes as a surprise?" She asked with a mild bit of amusement. She loved this luck she had with cards. When she shuffled and dealt, she felt almost a power surge through her. She was the Queen of Spades, who only ever lost a game once, and that was always the first time she ever played the game. She knew what card everyone held after the first trick in Euchre. In poker, she could spot a lie every time. The power of the cards held her, which was good. That was all she had. Math completely lost her, and she found literature and history dull. Science classes bored her to tears - there was no way she could care less about how electrons acted, or why DNA was important. The yellow-haired girl never understood why she needed any of it. All she needed was her deck of cards and the brown-haired boy. Their future rested in her endless luck.

"No, not really," the brown-haired boy laughed and wiggled his ears. It was guaranteed to make her laugh. A card game with her was guaranteed to make him feel better, especially after failing a test. This time, it was a test about the symbolism of unnatural nature in Macbeth. He and the yellow- haired girl shared sentiments about school. They were going to make their fortunes, who cared how? As far as he could tell, the witches in Macbeth never offered him any help in gambling, so why were they important? His parents were concerned. "Son," they would say, "We need to talk about your school work. We think you are playing cards too much, and aren't paying enough attention to your studies. These grades disgust us." When they saw the results of this test, they would no doubt react as they had many times before. He would be grounded for a week, and forced to spend all time outside of school practically chained to a desk with a book in front of him. As far as the brown-haired boy was concerned, there was no such thing as too much cards. It was how his future would come about, and with the yellow-haired girl, they would never lose.

"Another hand?" she dealt the cards before he answered. The answer would be yes. It was always yes. They knew each other so well, almost like siblings. But unlike siblings, they had sworn in blood years ago that they would marry after they were rich enough. They did not date now because that was not important, all that mattered was the shuffle, the deal, and the cards you received. School was perhaps the least important thing, and farthest from the yellow-haired girl's mind. It seemed too late to go back and learn all that 'wonderful' knowledge they had slept through the first time around, so why bother going back? The future was set, so why not live it? Her parents never noticed her grades. They were too busy at their "social outings" where they got drunk and came home the next morning in taxicabs. It did not matter to the yellow-haired girl. When she needed money, she won it in poker games. If she ever needed a ride somewhere, such as to the grocery store for bananas or peanut M&Ms, she called a cab or walked.

"Can I join?" a voice asked. The two card players turned to see the newcomer. His hair was spiked and dyed the same deep blue as the carpet. His eyes, obviously contacts, were pitch black and showed no emotion. His clothes were ripped, patched, and ripped again. His nails were bitten and dirty, and a long thin scar ran across the back of his left hand. He was obviously new to school, nobody else ever talked to the card players unless they wanted to try their luck at beating the yellow-haired girl in a game, but she was always victorious. The two grinned at each other. Fresh meat!

"Sure, why not?" they said simultaneously and laughed. The blue-haired boy did not change his cold expression, but sat down in his chair backwards and picked up his cards as they were dealt. After a few short minutes the game was over. The brown-haired boy and the yellow-haired girl were silent. It was a game they had played hundreds, possibly thousands of times before. The hand results were clear. The yellow-haired girl had lost, and lost badly. She stared at the cards, and trembled as the color drained from her face. The blue-haired boy did not notice anything wrong. He stood up.

"Good game," he said, and walked away, leaving his cards as they lay on the table. The two left them there, still staring. Without a word, she picked up her science text and turned to the beginning. He picked up Macbeth and started to read. The cards lay on the table as they had been left. When the bell rang for lunch to end, the brown-haired boy and the yellow- haired girl left the room without speaking to each other or looking at the cards that lay face up on the table.