Evermore - Alyson Noel [50]
“What should I get for you?” I call, but he moves so fast he doesn’t even hear me.
By the time he returns, the horses are all in the gate, and when the shot goes off, they bolt from their stalls. At first appearing like shiny dark blurs, as they take the corner and race for the finish, I spring from my seat, watching as my three favorite picks jockey for position, then jumping and shouting and screaming with glee when they all cross the finish in my perfect one-two-three.
“Omigod, we won! We won!” I say, smiling as Damen leans in to kiss me. “Is it always this exciting?” I gaze down at the track, watching as Spanish Fly trots into the winner’s circle and gets draped with flowers, preparing for his photo op.
“Pretty much.” Damen nods. “Though there’s nothing like that first big win, that’s always the best.”
“Well, I’m not sure how big it will be,” I say, wishing I’d had a little more faith in my abilities, at least enough to broaden the stakes.
He frowns. “Well, since you only bet two, I’m afraid you won somewhere around eight.”
“Eight dollars?” I squint, more than a little disappointed.
“Eight hundred.” He laughs. “Or, eight hundred and eighty dollars and sixty cents to be exact. You won a trifecta, meaning win, place, and show, in that exact order.”
“All that on just two dollars?” I say, suddenly knowing why he has a regular table.
He nods.
“What about you? What did you win?” I ask. “Did you bet the same as me?”
He smiles. “As it just so happens I lost. I lost big. I got a little greedy and went for the superfecta, which means I added a pony that didn’t quite make it. But don’t worry, I plan to make up for it on the next race.”
And did he ever. Because when we went to the window, after the eighth and final race, I collected a total of one thousand six hundred and forty-five dollars and eighty cents, while Damen pocketed significantly more, having won the Super High Five, meaning he picked all five horses in the exact order they finished. And since he was the only one to have done so, for the last several days, he won five hundred and thirty-six thousand dollars and forty-one cents—all on a ten-dollar bet.
“So what do you think of the races?” He asks, his arm tucked around mine as he leads me outside.
“Well, now I get why you’re not all that into school. I guess it can’t really compete, can it?” I laugh, still feeling high from my winnings, thinking I’ve finally found a profitable outlet for my psychic gift.
“Come on, I want to buy you something to celebrate my big win,” he says, leading me into the gift shop.
“No, you don’t have to—” I start.
But he squeezes my hand, his lips on my ear as he says, “I insist. Besides, I think I can afford it. But there’s one condition.”
I look at him.
“Absolutely no sweatshirts or hoodies.” He laughs. “But anything else, just say the word.”
After joking around and insisting on a jockey cap, a model horse, and a huge bronze horseshoe to hang on my bedroom wall, we settle on a silver horse-bit bracelet instead. But only after I made sure that the crystal bits were really just crystal, not diamonds, because that would be too much, no matter how much money he won.
“This way, no matter what happens, you’ll never forget this day,” he says, closing the clasp on my wrist as we wait for the valet to bring us the car.
“How could I possibly forget?” I ask, gazing at my wrist, then at him.
But he just shrugs as he climbs in beside me and there’s something so sad, so bereft in his eyes, I hope that’s the one thing I do forget.
Unfortunately, the ride home seems even quicker than the one to the track and when he pulls into my driveway, I realize how reluctant I am for the day to end.
“Would you look at that?” he says, motioning to the clock on his dash. “Well before midnight, just like I promised.” And when he leans in to kiss me, I kiss him back with so much enthusiasm I practically pull him onto my seat.
“Can I come