but anyway, this is the closing moment of this particular novel. the epilogue features both teenagers eventually making their way down to the pool deck, dragging a pair of deck chairs together and spending the next few hours playing a loose version of blackjack. every few hands they switch roles — the dealer and the player, the house and the predestined loser. clarke's first few attempts at dealing from the bottom of the deck are clumsy and uncoordinated, easily spotted and don't net her any wins anyway.
there comes a point where this exchange even surpasses simple practice. clarke inevitably sobers up a bit, and the air of competition takes root. at some point she persuades natsuno to abandon blackjack in order to play a few rounds of war, then crazy eight's. both slightly more aggressive, both likely to get the blood pressure and hope up, but neither designed to be betting games. the evening almost dips into teenaged ridiculousness before clarke remembers they've an end goal in mind.
then it's a gentle prod back to blackjack.
he wins, she wins, they both bust over the 21 threshhold. and a while later, the sun starts to creep over the artificial horizon line, and her head splits directly down the center of her skull as the hangover hits full force.
eventually, clarke will recline in the deck chair. pretending she's waiting for natsuno to make his next move, but covertly closing her eyes and absolutely dead to the world a few seconds later. and, honestly? it's the best sleep she's had in a while, even if waking up in the sun with a splitting headache and cotton mouth almost makes her wish she'd drank the entire pool instead of playing cards alongside it. )
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but anyway, this is the closing moment of this particular novel. the epilogue features both teenagers eventually making their way down to the pool deck, dragging a pair of deck chairs together and spending the next few hours playing a loose version of blackjack. every few hands they switch roles — the dealer and the player, the house and the predestined loser. clarke's first few attempts at dealing from the bottom of the deck are clumsy and uncoordinated, easily spotted and don't net her any wins anyway.
there comes a point where this exchange even surpasses simple practice. clarke inevitably sobers up a bit, and the air of competition takes root. at some point she persuades natsuno to abandon blackjack in order to play a few rounds of war, then crazy eight's. both slightly more aggressive, both likely to get the blood pressure and hope up, but neither designed to be betting games. the evening almost dips into teenaged ridiculousness before clarke remembers they've an end goal in mind.
then it's a gentle prod back to blackjack.
he wins, she wins, they both bust over the 21 threshhold. and a while later, the sun starts to creep over the artificial horizon line, and her head splits directly down the center of her skull as the hangover hits full force.
eventually, clarke will recline in the deck chair. pretending she's waiting for natsuno to make his next move, but covertly closing her eyes and absolutely dead to the world a few seconds later. and, honestly? it's the best sleep she's had in a while, even if waking up in the sun with a splitting headache and cotton mouth almost makes her wish she'd drank the entire pool instead of playing cards alongside it. )