Page 1 of Chess Not Checkers
Prologue
Future Georgia Thrashers Support Group Post
Jasmine Chamberlain:
Hi, future Thrashers! I am looking for three roommates to move into my on-campus apartment this fall. There would be no rent on your part, as I was blessed to be gifted the apartment by my family.
A little about me: I’m an incoming freshman and a cheerleader for the Thrashers! I love iced coffee, comfy clothes, and cooking. I’m double-majoring in culinary arts and business. I’ll be up front that I’m not the cleanest of housemates, but I will cook for you to make up for it.
The kind of roommates I’m looking for: Ambitious, creative girls with a sense of humor who are open to being friends and not just roommates. (Bonus points if you love to clean, since I hate it.)
If this post sounds awkward, it’s because my sister (who’s a therapist) edited it to “make my needs known” or something like that.
Comment your personality pitch below!
Comments section
Marigold Belmore:Hey! I’d love to be considered. I’m a journalism major, and I’ll be working for the paper this year. I could offer you a picture on the front page in exchange for a spot? Okay, I can’t actually do that, BUT I can promise that I’ll clean up after myself and help you with your English homework if you need it.
Aurora Driscoll:I’ll be honest with you—I’m not sure if I fit the criteria of the type of roommate you’re looking for. My parents always say I should smile more and get out more, and well, just do more. I don’t really have a life outside of ballet and school. But I could really use a free place to live so that I can save up for a ballet program I want to get into.
Saylor Lane:I LOVE TO CLEAN! Seriously, it helps me de-stress. I’m also very organized and can come up with a system for the apartment that ensures everyone contributes in some way. I love color-coding, planning, and decluttering. I’m pre-med, so I’m destined to spend the next four years glued to my desk, but I would love some friends to hang out with while I study!
100+ more comments…
Chapter one
Prodigy vs. Protégé
Jasmine Chamberlain
My life begins today. Destiny unfolds before me like one of the blank notebooks in my backpack. Every step I take is new, even though I walked this tree-lined path during my orientation, and again last week when I was mapping out the location of my courses, clubs, and practices. The difference between those moments and today is the feeling blooming in my chest. An anxious fluttering that’s spreading into my limbs and making my hands tremble.
A smile spreads across my face despite the butterflies wreaking havoc inside me. This is what I’ve been waiting for. Every match against my brother-in-law’s brother Grayson, the pages of notes I took on strategy, all the chess-related movies and shows I binge-watched. All of it led me here, to the steps of the Bernard Hattington Building, where the chess club is held in room 107.
While I’ve lived on campus with my roommates for over a week now, this is the first college activity I’m partaking in. Nextweek, classes begin. Maybe I’ll feel different when my semester officially starts, but today this moment feels like the beginning of my life as a collegiate woman. As soon as I walk through those doors, I will no longer be a high schooler. My past hurts will be left behind, and I can bring honor to my family by chasing after my future with all that I have.
I stare up at the red brick building. The austerity of the campus has been humbling, to say the least. In time, I’m sure I’ll get used to it, but right now the towering century-old buildings are intimidating.
After checking the map on my phone to make sure I’m in the right place, I square my shoulders, lift my chin, and walk up the stairs. Once inside, I suppress a shiver at the sudden drop in temperature. I’m dressed for the heat in my white Thrashers Cheerleading tank top and navy exercise shorts, but thankfully, I thought to throw a hoodie in my bag before I left my dorm. Actually, my roommate Saylor reminded me, and I had to dig it out of one of the still-packed boxes in my room, but still. I have it now. So I won’t freeze to death.
I scan the plates on each door for room 107. As I spot the correct door, up ahead, the men’s bathroom door opens, and out comes Shepherd Kingsley, star quarterback of the Georgia Thrashers. My heart stutters at the sight of him. He’s absurdly attractive with his tall, athletic build and gorgeous blond hair. Not to mention his baby blue eyes. The kind you want to set sail in without a map or a compass to guide you.
All of that combinedwouldbe enticing if it weren’t for the fact that I was sick and tired of hearing his name every five seconds. During orientation, his face was plastered on posters, TV screens, and stickers, like we should be honored to share the campus with him. Whenever my brother-in-law Levi would turn on ESPN, there Shepherd would be. It didn’t matter that the season hadn’t begun yet, he was still the hottest topic ofconversation. On my tour of the campus, the guide passed by the football team’s practice facility and spent twenty minutes talking about the team; over half of that was spent gushing over Shepherd’s brilliance and athleticism.
Now he was here, which I suspected but hoped wouldn’t be the case when I signed up. We met at a party one of my family member’s–who is also Shepherd’s coach–threw last year. Shepherd had watched me play my brother-in-law’s brother Grayson and lose, only for Shepherd to play him next and win as if it were nothing. It was only a little annoying at the time, but now, after hearing about him for months, all my frustrations have piled up.
“Hey, Jasmine, right?” Shepherd asks with a smile when he notices me heading for the classroom where the club is held. “We met at Coach Bash’s house.”
“That’s me,” I say with a half-hearted smile. I know I shouldn’t be rude to him. It’s not his fault he’s so great that everyone won’t stop gushing about him.
“You’re coming to chess club?” he asks as he opens the door to the classroom. His warm smile is disconcerting.
“Yeah, I am.” I sound as stilted as I feel. My fresh-start high is wearing off in the face of Thrasher royalty.
“Cool, I think it will be fun to play against each other.”
I head past him without acknowledging his words. Students are seated at tables with chessboards throughout the room. Some are engaged in games, their gazes intense and movements precise. One pair makes moves faster than I could dream of, hitting the timer in between each round so quickly their movements are a blur.
