The Slut's Guide to Chess

chapter 21

Everett Hearse was intimidating. He sat with his back straight and his shoulders rolled back. He was just as pale as I remembered Eliott being with brown hair that reached to the top of his shoulders and flared outwards.

His eyes were sullen but sharp and the blue made them stand out. Not even the slight chubbiness of his cheeks softened the daunting energy that clouded him.

Everett cleared his throat loudly and though I knew it wasn't true, it felt like the chatter of the room silenced. I sat in the chair opposite him and sank into the fabric

"Zora McQueen," he said, his words slow. "I've heard your name a lot today."

The way he spoke made me embarrassed and I played with the ends of the table cloth to hide my blossoming cheeks.

"We should start... Whenever you're ready."

I wanted to ask about Eliott right then. They looked a lot alike and it made my heart cry out for her even more. I needed to know. That desperation oozed from my every pore and from the very first move, I was determined. My eyes hardened and I doubled my concentration on the game.

I took all the games I had played today and mapped them out in my head. From my failures and my successes, it all led to this moment. I only had one shot and without winning this, Everett would never give me the time of day.

I thought back to my first lesson with Arwyn when he taught me about observation by visiting the town. I'd watched the man as he stole my phone. Now, I watched as Everett Hearse stole my chess pieces. By keeping my lessons in mind I was able to see the plan he had formulated in his head, the one I'd read about and studied hard enough that it rang out with familiarity bright enough to attract moths.

I watched his eyes as they racked up and down the board before zeroing in on the piece I hypothesised he'd move. His Bishop raced diagonally across the checkered floor and right where I needed it to be. I watched the way his pale hands stayed perfectly still with confidence as he let go of the piece's neck. I listened to my ragged breath that was far from cool and his which was deep and perpetual. Under the table, my legs bounced up and down with anticipation, a dance of nervousness that I felt deep in my bones. It made me blunder and my breath hitched with shame.

The next lesson was one of patience. It was so difficult to do, but I tried my best. I levelled my breathing and kept a strict poker face. Even though my mind exploded with all the ideas and my racing thoughts wouldn't shut up, I controlled it all with a single soft sigh from my nose.

My hands itched to move another chess piece and another and another until I was sure to checkmate him. Despite the blunder, I had it all planned out. My body practically moved on its own accord. The shuffle of feet behind me distracted my heavy thoughts that weighed down on my shoulders so heavily I was beginning to grow tired. The shuffle of feet was surely Arwyn and my rigorous heart understood why.

One of the only things he'd advised against was going into auto-pilot. I was growing too arrogant and if I had learnt anything from Griffin, it was that that overly confident persona got you nowhere. Especially, in chess.

There was an atmosphere that pushed down so greatly in this game that my movements weren't as free as they could have been. I suddenly felt self-conscious and as though the game was my stumbling second language rather than the fluent instrument I had played so elegantly earlier.

My head hurt from all the thinking I was doing and though Everett's lips pulled into that of indifference, I could tell that the pressure was getting to both of us. I hated waiting between moves as the eyes of spectators boar into my skin and it prickled at the back of my neck.