Page 15 of Chess Not Checkers
I smile. “Why, thank you. Now, are we playing chess, or do I have to request a new partner?”
He rakes a hand through his hair with a smile. “Let’s play.”
Chapter nine
Spiral
Shepherd Kingsley
It’s game day.
I slide my headphones over my ears to drown out the world as I walk onto the field for warm-ups. The scent of freshly cut grass makes me smile. I sit down in the nearest end zone and begin my stretching routine as the sun warms my back through my shirt.
Every Saturday of the season I have the same routine. I eat two almond-butter-and-strawberry-jelly sandwiches, drink forty ounces of electrolyte water, and wear a blue shirt to practice in. For warm-ups, I talk to no one except the coaches, and I listen to classical music with noise-canceling headphones. None of that is done for superstitious reasons. It all serves a purpose to trigger my brain to get into the right zone for the battle that’s to come. Well, everything but the blue shirt. That just became a tradition after I did it by accident a few times and one of the guys pointed it out.
I close my eyes as I stretch out my legs and hips, focusing on relaxing into each movement. When I open them again, I spotJasmine on the sidelines. She’s talking to Coach and MJ, while holding their baby girl, Sage. Jasmine twirls Sage around. Each time Jasmine spins, both her and Sage’s smiles get bigger. She’sradiant. I try to redirect my attention, but I’m a ship in the night and she’s a lighthouse, drawing my eye to her again and again.
Her white uniform shines in the morning sun, and her ponytail with a matching white bow swishes with her movements. She hands Sage back to MJ, then turns her attention up to the stands when Coach points up there. Standing at the bottom of the stadium is what looks to be most of the Carter/Holt family. Jasmine’s sister, Dahlia, hangs over the edge, holding her hand down for Jasmine to run over and touch. They’re all smiling and laughing. One woman with a professional camera snaps a picture of Jasmine, then waves.
An uncomfortable ache forms in my chest. My brother, Jason, and his wife, Willow, said they’d be here today, and I know they’ll follow through, but compared to Jasmine’s family, mine seems…sad. Especially since her family had to travel, as this is an away game, whereas my brother and his wife live nearby. My parents aren’t coming. I stopped expecting them to show up a long time ago. Willow has gotten them to come more than before, but it’s still a rarity.
I shake my head. I need tofocus. This is the season opener. It sets the tone for the year. Everyone is going to be watching and waiting for me to mess up. I can’t afford melancholy thoughts, and I definitely can’t afford to be distracted by Jasmine. No matter how gorgeous she looks as she jogs down the sideline back to the cheerleaders.
—
“Shepherd, how does it feel to open the season with a win?” one of the reporters asks in the crowd.
After winning today’s game, I washed up and came straight to the press room. They started off by asking Coach a fewquestions, but now it’s my turn. Though this first question is easy, I know better than to get comfortable. I’ve seen my brother in hundreds of these interviews, and was in plenty myself last season. Reporters don’t care about your feelings. They just want a headline.
“It feels great. We’ve been working hard over the summer, so it’s nice to see that paying off. There are plenty of things to work on, but I’m proud of the guys today,” I answer.
I catch Coach nodding in my peripheral vision.
“Shepherd, you had a great game today—”
I cut off the reporter. “Thank you.”
My response elicits a few laughs before the reporter continues.
“How much of your gameplay can be attributed to your brother being in the crowd? Do you think you play better with him there?”
My smile turns brittle. Here comes the flood of questions about Jason. I love my brother, and I’m proud of him. I just wish people wouldn’t bring him up all the time. If this interview is with me, let it be about me. If it’s with him, let it be about him.
“I like to think having my brother near is a good thing, but when I’m on the field, that’s where all my focus is. I don’t think about who’s in the crowd.”
The reporter nods and sits back down. Another stands up.
“This will be the last one,” Coach Bash says before the male reporter can speak.
I almost sigh in relief. A couple of questions aren’t too bad.
“Shepherd, congratulations on winning the national championship as a freshman quarterback last year. As you head into a new season, are you going to shoot for an undefeated career like your brother? How does that weigh on you as you go about practice and games?”
The suffocating feeling is back. It’s as though someone has wrapped me in chains and thrown me overboard. I sink down,down, down. Nothing is ever enough for these people. I feel Coach staring at me expectantly. Even he wants to know the answer, because he compares me to Jason, too. I want to scream that they don’t need to. I do it to myself enough.
I glance at the water bottle sitting nearby but don’t pick it up. Someone will analyze my movement and say that I was nervous.
“Thank you. Naturally, my intentions are to win every game. I think if they weren’t, there would be a problem.” A few chuckles echo through the room. “I know the responsibility of the position I’m in, and I take it seriously. I’m going to do everything in my power to be the best quarterback this team has ever had.”
