Page 20 of Chess Not Checkers
“That’s how chess club felt today.”
He nods in understanding. “No wonder you’re mad.”
I huff a laugh as I pull my food out of the microwave. “Yeah, it was not a good time to say the least.”
Chess club, and the game of chess itself, is the one time where I get to set aside everything that comes with being me. There’s no jersey on my back, constantly reminding me of the mantle I’m carrying as Jason “the King” Kingsley’s little brother. No one expects anything of me except to play the game. And once I’m playing, everything else fades away. Especially when I play against Jasmine. The verbal sparring combined with the strategy on the board makes me forget about everything else.
“Hopefully next time will be better,” he says, turning his attention back to his laptop.
“Hopefully,” I mutter.
I don’t know how it can get better. If Jasmine didn’t have it out for me before, she does now. And if I’ve gathered anything about her over the time we’ve spent together, it’s that she doesn’t give up easily. I’m guessing that energy is going to transfer over quite nicely to holding a grudge.
Chapter twelve
Make The List
Jasmine Chamberlain
“I shouldn’t want to skip class this early in the semester,” I say as I open the fridge to pull out the spinach-and-feta egg bites I made yesterday. “But I don’t even want to see his smug face.”
I explained the whole ordeal to all the girls last night once they got home. They all agreed that Shepherd is the worst and told me my stress-baked chocolate chip cookies were delicious. I made egg bites, a caprese pasta salad, and cookies in an attempt to calm down from the day. If this keeps up, I’m going to have to get another scholarship or a job just to cover my grocery bills.
“I relate on a soul-deep level,” Marigold grumbles over the rim of her bowl-sized mug of coffee. “Jameson shares half my classesandis on the paper, so the only time I won’t see him is on the weekends. And even then, I’ll see him if we get assigned to a project together.” She shudders as if the thought is terrifying.
I put two of the egg bites on a plate and place them in the microwave. “Want some?” I gesture to the container.
“I’ll take two, thanks.” She gives me a small smile.
“Do you think that maybe your situations are just big misunderstandings and the guys aren’t that bad?” Saylor asks from the living room where she’s organizing her flashcards from most- to least-known terms.
Marigold’s smile evaporates. “No.” Her tone leaves no room for discussion.
I open my mouth to agree, but stop. I have wondered that. At first, my animosity toward Shepherd was based on his reputation as the golden child in the media, which he then embraced by being arrogant in our interactions. But yesterday, the fight outside of chess club was different. And I spent half the night staring at my ceiling, wondering if I went too far. At the same time, he should have been more considerate of not just me, but all the other students.
“Maybe.” I settle on the answer with an unsure tone. “But I still don’t like him.”
Saylor shrugs. “I’ll support you either way, but figured I could pose the question.”
“Trust me, Jameson is a traitor of the worst kind. There is no misunderstanding that,” Marigold grouses.
“Then I will add him to my list of people I despise and make sure to glare at him if we ever cross paths.” Saylor’s sunshine smile sparkles in contrast to her words.
“Please tell me you have an actual list of people you don’t like,” I say, and she looks down at her stack of flashcards.
“Imighthave a short list of people in my journal that I made on a particularly upsetting day last year. But it’s not something I actually add to and take away from.”
I laugh. “Interesting.”
It’s hard to imagine someone as sweet as Saylor penning a list of enemies in her journal, but then again, we haven’t known each other for very long. There are likely many surprises to come as we grow closer.
“If I had a list, Jameson would be on it more than once,” Marigold says before taking a long drink of her coffee. The dark circles under her eyes let me know some of this venom is likely from lack of sleep. But without knowing what Jameson did, I can’t be sure.
I don’t say anything about Shepherd, instead opting to switch my plate for Marigold’s in silence.
My phone buzzes on the counter. I pick it up to see an email from Professor Kelton.
“What?” I say in disbelief.
