A Chess Game

CW: Language

The apartment was a mess. He hadn’t cleaned in weeks because he hadn’t had a reason to. They’d had to dodge dirty laundry, empty cereal bowls, and scattered pillows and blankets just to get to the little foldaway table in the back corner of the living room. He sat across from her in his folding chair, an untouched game of chess between them.

“You can move first.”

“No, I insist.”

They stared at the game, just as they had been for the past half hour, neither of them moving. He scratched the back of his head, ruffling his hair, then cracked his knuckles.

“Well, as long as you insist.”

He picked up his pawn and moved it forward two spaces. Before he could let go of it, she let out a sigh.

“What?”

“What?”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No.”

“Then why the attitude?”

“I don’t have an attitude.”

He scoffed and let go of his pawn. He slapped the space next to the board on the table, as if hitting the button on a chess clock.

“Your move.”

“Oh really? I didn’t realize.”

“Shut up.”

She picked up her pawn and moved it forward so it would be nose-to-nose with his. She slapped the non-existent chess clock, just as he had.

“Your move,” she mocked.

“You just did the exact same thing I did.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes you did, I moved my pawn two forward and you moved yours two forward.”

“But you went first, so it’s different.”

He scoffed again.

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

They stared at the game. As she waited for him to make a decision, her eyes wandered. They passed over the coffee-stained gray couch, the picture frame covering a hole in the wall with a photo of the two of them and a Bassett hound in it, a light switch, a stack of unread and untouched Cosmopolitan magazines, and they finally landed on the roses. A beautiful, well-curated bouquet of roses laying on the floor next to his rain-soaked Converse.

“I don’t know why you picked this stupid game. You always win anyway.”

“I only win because you don’t try.” 

He picked up a knight and slammed it down in another space. He hit the table.

“That’s bullshit.”

She picked up her knight and moved it.

“And I’m the one with the attitude.”

She hit the table.

“You’re literally doing the exact same thing I’m doing. Pawn, pawn, knight, knight.”

“But it’s not the same, Jon.”

He took a deep breath and moved another pawn. She moved her knight again. He huffed.

“How’s your mom?” she asked.

“She’s doing fine. The divorce has been pretty rough on her.”

“I can imagine.”

“Yeah. But she gets the house, so she’s happy.”

He moved his bishop. He hit the table.

She moved her bishop. She hit the table.

“The exact. Same. Fucking. Thing.”

“Can we just play the game, please?”

“That’s what I’m trying to do, but you’re sitting there treating me like I’m stupid--”

“I never said you were stupid. Please calm down.”

“You didn’t say it, but you were thinking it.”

“I was not. You’re so paranoid. Calm down.”

He huffed and sat back in his chair. He moved another pawn forward and slapped the table, the chess pieces rattling.

“How’s Charlie doing?”

“He’s good. His little ears just keep on growing. Surprised he doesn’t trip on them.”

He chuckled. She moved another pawn. He stared at the board for a moment before moving a pawn himself and hitting the table. He watched her as she studied the board.

“You’re cute.”

She peered over her glasses up at him.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“I give you a compliment and you say ‘okay’?”

“Wasn’t really a compliment so much as a statement.”

He blew air out his nose. 

“Guess I can’t do anything right.”

“I didn’t say that.”

She switched her king and her rook, then sat back in her chair, arms folded in front of her.

“What’d you do that for?”

“Because you could’ve checked me if I didn’t.”

“No, I couldn’t have.”

“Yeah. Look at the board.”

He looked at the board. She was right. He put his head in his hands.

“I don’t wanna play this game anymore.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be fucking sorry.” He looked back at the board. “That’s stupid.” He moved his other bishop. Hit the table.

“Being sorry is stupid?”

“For shit like that, yeah.”

He huffed. She moved another pawn.

“My uncle told me if you learned checkers before you learned chess it actually makes you worse at chess.”

He studied the board, tugging at the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Doesn’t mean anything. I’m not even sure if it’s true or not.”

She forced a laugh, watching him furrow and un-furrow his eyebrows. He finally moved a rook and slapped the table.

“I take offense to that.”

“Why?”

“Because I learned checkers first.”

She leaned forward and laughed as she moved her rook.

“Well, that explains a lot.”

“Are you saying I’m bad at chess?”

“No, I’m just saying you’re not as good as you could be.”

“So you’re saying I’m just not as good as you are.”

She leaned back and crossed her arms.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying, yeah.”

He scoffed. They both stared at the board.

“It’s your turn,” she said.

“What? When did you go?”

“After you moved your rook, I moved my rook.”

“Oh, copying me again.”

“I’m not copying you, I’m just playing the game.”

“Every move that I’ve made, you’ve mirrored it.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s called copying me.”

“No, it’s not. It’s just a strategy.”

“So you admit you’ve been doing it.”

“Doing what?”

He grunted and slammed his hands on the table on either side of the board. The pieces shuddered and shifted under his hard gaze. She froze in her seat, unwilling to move, unwilling to attempt any conversation or eye contact. 

“You…” he leaned over the table and jammed his pointer finger at her face. “You drive me nuts.”

“And you drive me nuts.” She pushed her chair back and stood up. “We can’t do this anymore. We can’t.”

He stood to meet her eyes.

“Look me in the face when you’re talking to me.”

She stared at him.

“I’m leaving.”

“What?”

“I am leaving.”

She shouldered her bag, throwing her jacket over her arm.

“Don’t… We haven’t even finished the game yet!”

She knocked over the pieces on the board and breezed past him, stepping on the bouquet.

“Oops.”

As she left the apartment, she slammed the door behind her and walked down the hallway of his building. He yelled behind her, but she didn’t turn back, not even once. As she got in her car, his screaming finally ceased, she couldn’t bring herself to do anything but cry.