‘But you guys played chess, not cards,’ Gehna pointed out.

‘Yep.’

‘Is this some Mr Miyagi nonsense where you teach a kid karate by getting him to polish your car?’

‘Something like that,’ Eram said, buzzed that she knew about The Karate Kid. ‘Chess is about patience, strategy. Anticipating your opponent’s moves. So is poker.’

‘So. To recap, you’re a seventeen-year-old high-school-dropout and professional gambler.’

‘And you’re a seventeen-year-old, like, pregnant person.’

‘The level of coolness in this room right now is blowing my mind.’

Eram had just met this girl for the first time and already he liked her more than anyone else he knew. Her fingers were drumming the tabletop. On an impulse, he slid his hand gently under hers.

In the zero-watt glow of the aquarium, the residents continued to swim here and there as if nothing of note had taken place. Fish, as a rule, don’t give too many fucks.

2

Click.

Eram raised four times the big blind from his position under the gun. It was a textbook move repping a huge hand. Click click click click. Everyone folded, except pokeboy69 in the small blind who matched the raise. He was hanging around to see the flop.

Pokeboy69? Eram knew it wasn’t wise to judge anyone’s skills by their online avatars—poker players were nothing if not deceptive—but it was difficult not to sometimes. This guy was definitely young, probably stoned, and likely holding a small pocket pair.

Eram had barely glanced at his own hole cards. At these small-ball stakes, it didn’t much matter.

The flop came down all royalty—an ace, a king, a jack—and the action was on pokeboy69. He went into the tank for almost the entire thirty seconds you got to make your move. It was a tough spot for the kid. His options were: raise big now, hoping to bluff Eram off the pot, or give up.

‘Don’t do it, Pokes,’ Eram advised out loud.

Pokes obviously couldn’t hear him. Click. He moved half of his sizeable stack in.

Eram shook his head at the screen of the twenty-one-inch iMac, the first and last expensive thing he had bought for himself. It wasn’t an indulgence, it was a necessary tool for the work he did.

There was a slim chance that pokeboy69 was holding an ace. Even if he was, it was definitely not a big ace. More likely he whiffed the flop completely and was donk betting, trying to scare Eram away. Click. Eram shoved all his chips in and the kid was gone, folding faster than the trial room staff at H&M.

It was still an hour before sunrise, but Eram quit all the eight online tables he had been grinding simultaneously. He stretched and rubbed his eyes. Six thousand plus change was about an average night. He might have made a couple more if he hadn’t been so distracted.

What is wrong with you, son? He gave himself a mental kick in the butt. It was only six months to the thing. Keep your head in the damn game.