Page 27 of Chess Not Checkers
“Ready to start?” I rasp.
She bites her lip and nods. I lift my hat to run a hand through my hair, then gesture for her to take the first move. Jasmine moves her pawn directly in front of her king, and I can tell she’s been thinking about it with how fast she goes. We don’t use the game clock to our left. We typically don’t for our first game, though I doubt we’ll get to play more than one with our time constraint.
“How was practice yesterday?” I ask as I move my knight from the backline and toward the edge of the board.
Her eyes scan the board. She moves her queen through the space her pawn was on, then across the board directly in front of my knight. I smile as I note her improved strategy. She’s starting off strong.
“It was good,” she says as I contemplate my next move. “I fell out of a stunt, but Harry caught me, so it was all right.”
My head jerks up. “A stunt is where they throw you in the air, or am I mistaken?”
Jasmine laughs softly. I make my move, a little distracted by the idea of her tumbling toward the ground headfirst. That distraction is made worth it by the stomach-turning thought of another guy catching her in his arms.
“Yes, well, it’s more than just throwing, but they do that. We were trying something new, and I lost my balance.”
“And they say football is dangerous,” I mutter while she moves a pawn. “Cheerleading sounds way worse.”
“I’ve seen you get hit before, so I’d say we’re even.”
I smirk. “Yeah, but considering how rarely I get hit—you know, on account of how amazing I am—I think the scales are tipped.”
She shakes her head. “First of all, you’re ridiculously arrogant. Second of all, getting dropped is not that common.”
“Comforting,” I say wryly, coaxing a laugh out of her.
We settle into a comfortable silence as we continue to play. The two little lines have appeared between Jasmine’s brows, but due to concentration, not frustration. With each of her moves, I become more impressed.
“You’ve gotten better since the last time we played,” I say as I move my knight. “You’re still going to lose, but you’re putting up a fight.”
She shoots me a glare. “I’m not losing.”
“You are, but that’s okay. Maybe next week you can pull off a win.”
Jasmine frowns. “Next week? Don’t you mean next game?” She checks her smartwatch. “We’ve got time for at least one more.”
I scratch the back of my neck. “I’ve got practice at five thirty. I’ll have to leave in a few minutes.”
Jasmine doesn’t set down the piece in her hand. Disappointment flickers across her expression, causing warmth to fill my chest. Is it possible that she’s sad I have to go?
“On Saturday, you said the time worked for you.”
I shrug. “It sort of does. It lets me come and play for a little while. That’s good enough for me.”
Not really, but seeing her face fall made me feel like I had to say something. She sets her piece down, barely looking at the board. One more move and I’ll win, but it should have taken a few more turns.
“Don’t throw the game; we have a little while longer,” I say.
She shakes her head. “You’re not able to stay the whole time because of me. I overreacted, and now you’re only here for half the time.”
“You were right that day. I hadn’t thought of everyone else. This is what the majority chose. It wasn’t your decision,” I reassure her, trying not to show how baffled I am that she cares. I felt how she had buried some of her animosity, but I didn’t expectthis. I don’t think I can handle Jasmine Chamberlain caring about me in any shape, form, or fashion. I’ll be a goner.
She looks down at the board. “I guess you’re right.”
“Look on the bright side—you’ll get to play against me and get a loss out of the way before you go and beat one of the other members,” I joke, trying to get us back to our usual banter. Where it’s safe. Friendly rivals. That’s what we should be. Anything else, and the bench is my new home. Coach could have been bluffing, but I don’t know that I have the guts to call him on it. Especially when there is nothing concrete between me and Jasmine to bet on.
Jasmine looks up and scoffs. “I may have lost this time, but I won’t next week. I’ll beat you and everyone else in here.”
I chuckle at the tenacity in her voice. “Careful, Chamberlain, you might steal myridiculously arroganttitle.”
