“Anything?” the girl asked.
“Nothing,” Chris replied, peering at Nate intently. “Where are you from, Nate?”
Nate grinned. “My dad owns the company that makes these.”
“Really?” Roman asked.
“No,” Nate said. “I was just in the zone at the right time. I live over in Colson.”
The tickets had stopped unreeling.
Nate glanced down. “How many tickets were supposed to pay out for breaking the record?”
“Three hundred,” Roman said.
“It stopped around 230,” Nate said. He hadn’t been paying direct attention, but his instincts told him he was right. He had learned to trust his instincts while chewing Peak Performance.
“They’ll refill it,” Chris said. “Risa, see if you can find Todd.”
“Yes, master,” the girl replied, rolling her eyes.
“Are you guys going to pay up?” Trevor asked.
Chris looked reluctant, his lips pressed together. “That’s only fair, I guess. You might have been conning us, Nate, but you definitely won.” Chris handed over his token card.
“Bad luck for me,” Roman said. “My tickets are yours. More than a thousand. That was incredible.”
Glancing off to one side, Nate saw Summer and Pigeon approaching. They walked up to Trevor. Pigeon seemed to pay abnormal attention to Chris.
“Hey, guys,” Summer said brightly. “What are you up to?”
“Scamming us out of buckets of tokens,” Chris said. “Tell you what, Nate, how about you give me a chance to win my card back, double or nothing. We use the bigger machines with the full-sized balls. I like those better. If I lose, I’ll give you a card with exactly $100 in tokens on it.”
“What are you, a millionaire?” Nate asked.
“I made some pretty good money recently,” Chris replied. “What do you say?”
“My shooting wasn’t a fluke,” Nate said.
“One-forty can’t be a fluke,” Chris acknowledged. “It’s too high. It’s ridiculous. Still, give me a chance to win my card back on the bigger machines. I want to try.”
Nate knew the Peak Performance gum would last at least another ten minutes. “Sure, why not?”
Risa returned with a man who was presumably Todd. In his thirties, he wore black jeans and a dark T-shirt promoting a band Nate had never heard of. He had a wiry build and smelled faintly of cheese puffs. His green hair was styled into a faux hawk. One forearm sported a tattoo of a dark angel holding a pair of swords rendered in blue, purple, and black. Under his other arm he clutched a large wheel of tickets.
“Whoa!” Todd said. “A hundred and forty? Nobody has put up a score like that since we opened.” He focused on Nate, who still stood in front of the machine. “You did this?”
“I was in the zone,” Nate said simply.
“You should be in the newspaper,” Todd said. “That is just a killer score. You should see if there’s a pro league for these things. Seriously, you’d be a superstar.”
“I don’t know about that,” Nate replied, hoping he wasn’t blushing. He felt a little guilty since his performance was due to magic gum rather than his own skill.
“I hear it didn’t pay out all 300,” Todd said.
“Yeah,” Nate replied. “I think it stopped short.”
“That’s why I’m here,” Todd said, crouching in front of the machine. Using some sort of key, he opened it up. “Yep, empty as my girlfriend’s head.”
“How’s it going, Todd?” Chris asked.
“Good, Chris,” Todd replied. He loaded the wheel of tickets into the machine and closed it. More tickets began streaming out. “Did this guy take you to school?”
“He destroyed us,” Chris said.
“I was wondering when somebody would toast one of you,” Todd said. “Goes to show you, can’t get too cocky. There’s always somebody better.” Placing his hands on his hips, Todd stared at the score. “One-forty. They should pay out a thousand for a score like that. Party on.”
Todd strolled away.
Chris nodded toward the bigger machines.
“We’re just playing for you to get your card back,” Nate clarified. “I keep these tickets.”
“It’s Roman who cares about tickets,” Chris said. “But there’s only two of the big machines. Just you and me, playing for cards.”
“I’ll gather your tickets, Nate,” Trevor offered.
“We’ll help,” Summer said, giving Nate a funny look. He wasn’t sure how to read her expression. Did she think it was wrong for him to scam Chris again using Peak Performance?
Summer, Trevor, and Pigeon had been engaged in a huddled conversation while Todd resupplied the ticket dispenser. Nate wondered what had lured Summer and Pigeon out of hiding. There didn’t seem to be any emergency.
Nate went and stood next to Chris. These bigger machines required two tokens. Nate pushed them in, Chris swiped his card, they hit the start buttons, and Nate started shooting. The balls were bigger, the hoop farther away, but it seemed just as easy as the other game. Working quickly, Nate hit swish after swish, the ball touching nothing but net. Hoping to avoid looking supernatural, he forced himself to miss three shots. When the buzzer sounded, he had beaten Chris by almost fifty points.
“Another new record,” Chris said, glancing from the scoreboard to Nate. He looked stunned and frustrated. “I practice a lot, and I shot fairly well just now. You scored way higher than I’ve ever shot. I guess I owe you another card.”
“It’s okay,” Nate said. “Don’t worry about it.”
“No, Nate, I can afford it,” Chris said. “I asked for a rematch, and you owned me. How many times did he miss?”
“Three,” Risa said. “He was shooting fast.”
“These pay 500 when you break the record,” Chris said. “You’re well on your way.”
“To what?” Nate asked.
Chris studied him curiously. “You’re an interesting guy.” He bent over and tore off the ribbon of tickets dangling from his machine. “My tickets weren’t part of the deal. I’ll donate them to Roman.” He handed the tickets to his friend. “I’ll be right back.”
Tickets continued to flow from Nate’s basketball game. “How do I manage all of these tickets?” Nate asked Roman.