Page 3 of Chess Not Checkers
Her scowl deepens while my smile grows. If there was an award for the cutest scowl, Jasmine would win it. She would also hate that she did, and her adorable scowl would make an appearance as she accepted the trophy.
“Do you ever think before you speak, or is it your general policy to wing it?” she asks in return.
“Oh, I thought about that question for a while. You’ve scowleda lotthis game.”
Her lips thin. It’s all I can do to hold in a laugh. It probably means there’s something wrong with me that I enjoy her disdain for my general personhood, but every insult from her is like drinking from a water hose after a long day of playing backyard football in the summer: utterly refreshing.
“So it’s self-preservation skills you lack. Got it.”
I chuckle in response and wait to reply until she makes her move. She surprises me when she castles, switching her rook with her king. Her improvements are rapid. She picks up on patterns very well, but it’s clear she hasn’t put as many hours into the game as me or some of the other more experienced players here.
“Nice move,” I compliment her. The two little lines smooth out for a moment, and I’m not sure yet if I prefer being the one to cause the lines or the one to make them disappear. “Not bad for a protégé,” I add, because she’s right—I lack self-preservation skills.
Her captivating green eyes flash with anger. Man, she’s pretty. The kind of beautiful that would make you say “thank you” if she swung at you because at least she touched you.
“Do they have to order a special helmet to fit your giant head?” she throws back.
I grin and look at the board to make my next move. I’m going to win again, probably in two more moves. That’s going to make this situation worse, so I shouldn’t add fuel to the fire. Unfortunately for Jasmine, I’ve always been fond of watching flames dance.
“You don’t have to lash out. It’s okay to admit you have things to learn,” I say as I move my queen.
Her mouth drops open in indignation. “You know, I knew you’d be pretentious from being in the limelight too much, but I didn’t think you’d be this obnoxious.”
“Ouch.” I place a hand on my chest. “Lighten up, Chamberlain. I’m helping you out of the kindness of my heart here.”
She scrunches up her nose. “I’m not convinced you have a heart.”
“Others would disagree. Most people I meet like me, you know,” I say with my most winsome smile.
“And most people put A.1. sauce on steak. Most people are wrong.”
I snort. Her lips twitch as if she wants to laugh, but she’s holding onto her disdain like an umbrella in a rainstorm.
“I’m afraid our time for today is up,” Professor Kelton announces from the front of the room. Students start to pack up the boards and their bags. “I will see you next week. I hope your first classes of the semester go well.”
Everyone murmurs a collective thank you.
I glance back at Jasmine. “Want me to tell you how the game would have ended?”
Her responding look is thunderous. “That’s not necessary,” she grits out.
Her eyes flick down to the board, though, and I could be wrong, but it seems like she does want to know.
I point to her rook. “If you moved this like I suspect you were going to…” I move it. “Then I would have moved my bishop and…” I move my piece. “Checkmate.”
She scans the board, then lets out an adorable little huff.
“You’re a great chess player, Jasmine,” I say, and she looks surprised by my words. “With time, you’ll be even better.”
She nods, wearing a thoughtful expression.
“Until then, do you have a favorite accent?”
Her brow furrows. “A favorite accent? Why?”
“I was thinking you might get tired of hearing me say ‘checkmate’ so often. Figured I could mix it up with an accent so it doesn’t get old.”
“You are terrible.” She shakes her head and stands up. “Congratulations, you ruined my first official college experience.”
