Camp Where The Hell Are We? | ✓

31

He loved poker more than anything or anyone else, especially after his wife and son left him.

It was easy for Marley's father to lose himself instead of face his problems.

So every night became poker night.

He used to have this set group of friends who'd play with him every Saturday night, but when it became a nightly obsession, he had to find new friends who were willing to play more often. Most of the time, he was gone to one of their houses, arriving home via cab stumbling and rowdy.

On the nights that he hosted, Marley made him a cold cut platter before making herself scarce. It wasn't hard to convince him that she couldn't stick around, because her father has never been the sharpest knife in the drawer.

In all of her high school years, she did History in night school. Even on the weekends!

Her father would complain, but when it came to her school, he was the most understanding person in the world. It was his one redeeming quality — that he gave a shit about her education.

'To get you the fuck outta my house someday' was his brilliant, very flattering explanation. Not that it offended her much; his words don't really hurt her anymore. After a while, she got used to his comments and his berating, taking it with a grain of salt before moving on.

There was one night, though, that she won't ever move on from.

It was a Saturday afternoon in the fall of her junior year. Marley was laid on her stomach, papers scattered around the pink duvet of her gold iron bed. She had her laptop in front of her, her coffee brown hair piled in a bun on her head.

Her internet browser was open in a YouTube video explaining quantum physics by a university professor. She was bored, and Gabby was away on vacation, so to occupy her mind she wrote notes and did sample physics questions online. Reading Wuthering Heights turned out to be not enough of a distraction, so it was sitting on her nightstand on top of her stack with The Great Gatsby and To Kill A Mockingbird.

When she heard some door slamming and loud, masculine voices erupt from the main floor of their house, she jolted and rose from her bed. Looking down at herself, she was grateful to see she was in a baggy hoodie and sweat pants that covered every inch of skin below her neck.

Taking the wooden steps quietly and skipping the ones that squeaked, Marley peeked around the corner when she made it to the bottom stair. It had been raining steadily outside all morning, so she witnessed four men stumble through the door soaking wet, kicking off their boots and hanging their damp jackets haphazardly on the shaky coat rack.

"Got a beer, buddy? We're gonna need it. The crew's all down today, and we needed the god damn job done." one of the guys said in a booming voice.

Marley watched her father shove everything off their dining room table, a twinge in her heart at her math textbook being tossed on the hardwood floor. She watched a redhead throw their poker briefcase onto the table, and the others take a seat.

"Always do, Lenny. Marley!!"

Her father's booming voice made her cover her mouth so he wouldn't hear her whimper of fright.

"That's your daughter. How old is she now?"

There were a few chortles around the table.

"16, man. You want to end up in jail?" Another man responded.

"I'd do hard time for a night with that Mamacita. Mmhm."

"Better looking than her mother, and nobody thought that was possible." a guy chimed in with a snicker.