A Risky Game

The Rules:

1. If there is no trust, don’t leave the room
2. Never abandon a game
3. Do not accuse another player of cheating
4. Do not mess with the tally board
5. Never leave a game unfinished, even if it means being late to class

These were the rules for when I played chess with one of the smartest kids in school. You would’ve never guessed it from how he looked. James was your average popular football boy. He had the whole cheerleading squad after him, and he had the build of a model.

You would’ve never guessed that I was the head of the matchwits team - partly because I don’t tell anyone and I make everyone on the team keep their mouth shut. But also because I’m also super popular. I’m head of the cheerleading squad and I also try my best to be nice.

We met up in the library during lunch almost every day to keep up with our chess games. No one knew of course, I always used the excuse that I was helping a teacher. I don’t know what James did to keep his buddies away.

But today, with the rules written on the white board - the new librarian never erased anything - and our chess board out in front of us, James and I were in a tight match. We’d both taken about an even amount of the other’s pieces, and only had about three left.

The librarian was shelving books and the only sound drifting through the room was the beeping of her scanner as she returned books to their shelves. There was the occasional plink of a chess piece landing on the chess board, but since the library was closed during lunch, no one came in to disturb our peace and quiet.

I was only three moves away from winning, if James followed the map that I had laid out in my head. If not I was screwed. James moved the wrong piece and I internally groaned. I had learned to keep a straight face while playing with him because any flutter of emotion that crosses your face, James can read, and that gives him the ultimate advantage against me.

At this point in the game there was only one thing that I could really do, move my best piece into the firing range. My backup plan finally had to come out. James looked up at me as I moved my queen into his trap. I kept my face even.

He moved his rook to F2 and my queen was eliminated. That was when I struck. All at once - with only a pawn and a bishop - I defeated the rook and took down his last pawn. At last his king was all that stood, not in a good position with my last pieces surrounding it.

I looked up at James with a cocky smile. “Checkmate.” Was all I said as I flicked his king over with my index finger. He smiled and sat back, letting out a heavy breath. I continued to smile with my head resting on my hand.

“Good job Isabella. I thought you were done there,” He chuckled. “Another one on the board for you.” He sighed as he pulled out a  lined sheet of paper from his pocket. It was a T chart with our initials on either side, I was ahead of him by two games.

He slashed another line on my side and folded the piece of paper back up before sticking it back in his pocket. He put his pencil back into his bag and began to pack up the chess board. We had a deal: whoever lost had to pick up the game, and take care of it until the next match.

“This is the third time in a row you’d had to take this home, James,” I said, rubbing in the fact that I’d one. “You might as well keep its spot on the shelf ready for it.” I laughed, hitting my shin on the leg of the table. I held back a wince.

“I beg to differ,” James said, “I’ll get you next time.” He carefully put the chess board into the back compartment of his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. Lunch was about to be over and we both had to go back to our social lives.

“Mhm, sure.” I said as I did the same. He left before I did - we couldn’t risk being seen together - I would leave when the bell rang.

Sure we saw each other in the halls sometimes, but we never really talked outside of our chess matches. After school we rode the same bus. He had the seat next to me, but we also had friends that rode the same bus, so we never talked there either.

We knew where the other lived, but I didn’t know his favorite color, or his favorite anything really. I doubt he knew anything about me. As I made my way up to my sixth hour, I picked up my favorite book from my locker. It was travel size and fit in any hoodie pocket. For now I slipped it into the side compartment of my backpack.

One of my closest friends met me at the classroom door. “Hey Issy,” She exclaimed, blocking my entrance, “The Winter Ball is next weekend, do you have a date yet?” Ava was excited about the holiday party the high school is hosting next weekend. I would rather stay home and re-read my book.

“N-no,” I said, doing my best to hide my shock, “I’ll go by myself so I have a better variety.” I knew she’d like that, so while she stood in the doorway speechless, I slipped past her and into the classroom.

My seat was in the middle-back. It was far enough away without being too far - meaning that if you sat there you were practically screaming “I’m a bad kid” - and close enough to the front of the room that you weren’t counted as a dork.

I sat with one of my other friends, but she was quiet and really smart, so I didn’t mind her as much as I did Ava.

--

The next day as I was sitting through a boring class before lunch, I got two texts from an unknown number. I read it knowing all too well the risks of doing so.

Meet me by the water fountain by the library before lunch

Come alone or risk our chess meets being jeopardized

I recognized who it was as soon as I’d finished reading the message. I quickly stuffed my phone into my back pocket before the teacher could notice I had it out. While the last few minutes of class dragged out I formulated a plan to meet James alone.

Luckily, the water fountain that he had picked was one that was rarely used, and was pretty hidden. But getting there by myself was the difficult part. And then it hit me.

As soon as the bell rang for the end of class I was ready to let my plan unfold. I hung back a few extra minutes pretending to pack up my things. And, as I had predicted, Ava got bored and came into the room to investigate.

“Why are you taking so long?” She asked me, her hands hanging limply at her sides. I shrugged.

“Miss H said she needed me to help her today,” The lie rolled easily off my tongue, “I can’t eat lunch with you guys today.” I finished packing up my things and slung my bag over one of my shoulders.

“Okay.” She said sadly, and left the room without further question.

With the opening I had just given myself, I dashed down the hallway to the back staircase. This - as well as the water fountain - was hardly used except for the couples who were hoping to get some privacy before the next class.

I met James where he wanted, a demand for an explanation ready on my tongue. And then I saw the flowers on the ground. I stopped short, about six feet.

“Who are those for?” I did my best to tease. I had never seen him getting close to a girl, let alone close enough to ask her out. He blushed a deep crimson and kicked the ground with the toe of his black converse sneakers.

“Someone.” Was all he said. I rolled my eyes, finding my bearings.

“Why are we meeting today,” I demanded, “We only meet on Tuesday’s and Thursday’s. It’s Friday.” His gaze finally met mine and I was frozen where I stood. We weren’t going to play chess today, were we?

“I just needed some advice from you, that’s all.” He said, holding the bouquet of white flowers in his off hand.

“What kind of advice?” I asked, taking a few steps forward.

“How do I ask a girl to a dance?” He asked, looking back at the ground. Now it was my turn to blush. I only knew how I wanted a guy to ask me to a dance, not anyone else. I formulated my sentence very carefully, no matter how long it took.

“Well,” I began, “You were right with the flowers, for one. But you just kind of ask her, it doesn’t have to be public, and it doesn’t need to be on a poster or anything. You just kind of go up to her, offer her the flowers, and ask her. If she says no, she says no.” I said, feeling the burn in my cheeks intensify.

James nodded. “Thanks,” He looked back at his shoes - he had watched me as I figured out what to say. “That’s all I needed. Can I tell you what I plan on doing after school? In the same place?” I was taken aback. Why was he asking for my help?

“Um, sure?” I said. He nodded and walked back down the hallway, in the direction of the lockers. I adjusted my bag on my back and walked in the opposite direction, into the library.

I found a comfortable place in a secluded part of the library to sit and read until the bell rang.

--

After school I texted my mother and said that I’d be walking home - I didn’t live too far away - tonight. She was fine with it as she usually is. I said goodbye to my friends and went back to school. Don’t ask me how they believed my stupid excuse of helping Miss H again.

I wandered around in the library for a little bit, finding interesting books that I’d have to buy for myself, before my phone buzzed in my back pocket. I pulled it out and read the message.

Are you in the library again

I chuckled. However little we knew each other, James always knew where I was going to be when I had a lot on my mind. Even though I didn’t want to leave my little hiding spot in the depths of the library, I went out to the fountain right on the other side of the door.

James was waiting where he was earlier. He had the same bouquet of flowers in his hands and he was fidgeting. After playing chess with him for more than three and a half years, I had never seen him fidget.

“Isabella.” He said as a greeting.

“James.”

“Thank you for not ditching me,” He said, “This is really important.” I nodded.

“Anytime.”

“So,” He scratched his neck nervously. “I was wondering, Isabella, if you’d go to the Winter Ball with me.”

“You’re just using my name as practice, right?” I asked. He shook his head. My cheeks flooded with heat. “You’re really asking me?”

“Isabella, I’ve known you for years,” He continued as if he hadn’t heard me. “I know almost everything there is to know about you, and I have grown really fond of you. I don’t know how and I don’t know why, but I’m attracted to you. So, Isabella, I ask again, will you go to the Winter Ball with me?”

He offered me the bouquet of flowers. I took them and barely murmured the word yes. I was taken aback, he had done exactly what I had told him how a girl - me - would want to be asked out.

James smiled and slung his bag back over his shoulder. “Wanna play a game of chess?” He asked, going into the library. I followed meekly behind him, still partially in shock.

--

A few days later at the dance, I’m sitting at a table with a midnight blue table cloth, waiting for James to get here. I’ve avoided every mistletoe when anyone was around - like I have every year - but today it was different.

When James finally got here, I got up and casually made my way across the room to meet him. He had a medium sized box tied up with a bow in his hands. He smiled and took my hand as I led him to the table I had picked.

“What’s that for?” I asked as we sat down.

“Merry Christmas!” He said, sliding it across the table to me. I made a confused face but opened the gift anyway.

It was a brand-new version of my favorite book, and inside the cover, was the author’s signature. My face lit up and I looked back up at James. “Is this real?” I exclaimed.

“I noticed that your old one was falling apart,” He said, “The author came into town two years ago and I went and got it signed. I never knew if I’d actually ever give it to you, but here we are.” At that moment a group of yearbook photographers came up with a stick in their hands, as well as their cameras.

“Ooh, pretty couple.” One of them said, holding the stick above our heads. I hadn’t noticed before, but attached to the stick by a thin invisible string, was a bushel of mistletoe. My face flushed bright red.

“A kiss for the camera?” Another asked.

I looked at James. He didn’t seem to mind, actually, he stood up and took my hand. He looked at the yearbook photographer.

“Don’t put it in the book.” He said, and pulled me up and kissed my forehead. I was thankful that he was mindful of my feelings, but I was disappointed. This was what friends did. Not whatever he and I were.

“You missed.” I said, and kissed him full on this time. He was surprised, but kissed me back eventually.

It ended up in the yearbook that year.