Fame Adjacent by Sarah Skilton

Author:Sarah Skilton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2019-04-08T16:00:00+00:00

9

In what would turn out to be a mistake, I insisted on driving the first shift.

Thom fed me pieces of toast and spoonfuls of yogurt while I drove. Normally I wouldn’t have been impressed by the paltry food selection Motel 6 had on offer, but I was so hungry it tasted like a Thanksgiving feast.

The way he brought the toast to my lips made me self-conscious. Did I have crumbs on my lips? And what did he think of said lips? If I didn’t know better, I’d think we were a couple. A nauseatingly cute couple.

We’re saying goodbye in a few hours, I reminded myself. Your crush is not only unreciprocated, it’s pointless.

He wiped a smattering of bread crumbs off his hands. “What’s on your mind? Besides that, of course.” (We were passing another one of Kelly’s “Single Mom Cop Show” billboards. Gotta promote the Chicago-set TV program in the heartland, even though it’s filmed in Canada.)

“Can I ask you something personal?” I said.

He finished chewing the last of his toast. “Okay.”

“How come you chose internet rehab instead of Gamblers Anonymous?”

“Two reasons. First, it was free. Second, it was free.”

“How can you be sure the treatment’s going to work?”

“I don’t think anyone can. I never sought out real-life poker, though; my problem was strictly online, which definitely exacerbated the situation. It didn’t feel real; it was like playing a video game, which meant my money got swallowed up before I comprehended it, before I could see that it corresponded to a real bank account with real money in it. It seemed harmless. Pixels and pictures on a screen.”

“You were scammed, you mean?”

“No, I knew what I was doing, but I didn’t let myself know. You know what I mean? It was all about the endorphin rush I’d get when my phone or my desktop ‘won’ a round. It’s the same spike of excitement you feel when a new email comes in, or you see a new response to your Reddit posts.”

I’d felt those exact spikes at the Cracker Barrel yesterday, yet the high was brief, and didn’t correspond to the level of anticipation I’d ascribed to it the previous three weeks.

“It’s the same with gambling,” Thom continued. “You’re rewarded at random intervals. You might go days without winning, and then, bam, win six in a row. It happens enough to keep you hooked, and since it’s random, there’s no incentive to stop. In the next round, you could make all your money back. You really could. It’s not likely, but it’s possible.” He cleared his throat, and I wondered if he was remembering a rewarding or terrible experience at his computer. Either way, he seemed ready to drop the subject. “Lisa referred me to a local GA group that meets every week in Greenburgh, so I’ll check it out once I get home.”

“Sounds like a plan,” I chirped. Overconfident in my stick-shift abilities, I didn’t slow down enough switching gears. Incensed, the Passat made a noise like broken glass dragged through gravel.

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