Page 11 of Sidelined Love

I carefully pack up the chess set, buying myself more time before I need to start my rounds. After convincing myself that going up to order a drink and a brownie from Jenna would only prolong the inevitable, I begin to make my way around the room.

I fold my arms across my chest as I make my way around the room, scanning the various games in progress. I'm slightly impressed with how focused everyone is. Many people join a club on campus because it'll look good on their résumé when they need to show extracurriculars. It is one of the most annoying fucking things. At least the people that are here tonight seem interested in the game.

As I make my way around the section of the coffee shop that we're using, I take in the sight of the various chess games in progress. At one table, I notice Jeff and Liza, his opponent, locked in an intense match that requires a lot of concentration. Both of their kings are under threat and while I can see pathways for either one of them to choose, I keep my mouth shut so they can figure them out on their own.

In the back corner, I notice Camden, someone who joined chess club around the same time I did, is patiently guiding a new guy through the basic openings. The new dude is listening intently to his instructions and will be better for it if he retains the knowledge Camden’s giving him.

Once I've checked in on everyone, I stand between two tables near the center of our section. I clear my throat and announce in a loud, clear voice, “Hey! There are some decent games going on. We've got about five more minutes before we need to stop these matches. After that, take a breather, grab a drink, do whatever you need to do. But be quick about it. We're switching partners and starting a new round of matches ASAP.”

Low murmurs start up again as everyone returns to their games. I pull out my phone to check to see if I have any messages, and I find one from my father.

Dad: Just checking in because I haven't heard from you in a while. Hope everything is going well.

As I reread the text, a sharp pang of guilt slices through me. My mind races as I try to remember the last time I spoke to my father—could it have been a week ago? Maybe two? How could I have let that much time go by without at least saying hello?

I shouldn't have to wait for him to message me in order for me to consider calling him. Especially after all we've been through.

My fingers fly across my phone screen as I type up a response that reads like nothing more than a shitty excuse and press send.

Me: Hi. Everything is going fine. Sorry I've been busy, but I can call later tonight if you're free.

I switch it to vibrate so I'm alerted when he sends me something back. I then stick my phone back into my pocket, forcing my mind away from my guilt and back on chess for the time being.

Nothing on my face gives away the emotions I feel churning inside of me. It's a look I've perfected and comes in extremely handy, especially when I don't want people to ask questions or get into my business. Having a resting bitch face is really useful when the only thing you want is to be left alone.

After walking around a couple more times, I glance up at the clock. Seeing how much time has passed, I say, “Okay, that's it.”

The chess club members finish up their games and set up the chessboards so they will be ready for the next players to begin. I say nothing as several people stand and walk around while others chat with one another.

Instead of interacting with people, I stand off to the side and watch. Deep down, I know I should be doing the same thing, but I can’t bring myself to do so. I’d rather sit on the sidelines and people watch as I debate with myself about how the rest of this meeting is going to go.

At least that is my plan until I notice Jeff walking toward me out of the corner of my eye.

“Are you planning on playing anyone this next round?” he asks.

I fight the urge to sigh. It is nothing against him personally, I just don't want to be bothered. I glance at him before staring straight ahead again. “Nope.”

“How about you and I play against one another?” he suggests, taking a small step into my personal space.

I consider moving away but decide the best course of action is for me to stand still, holding my ground. Is there a chance I'm the only one seeing it this way? Yes, but it doesn’t change my response.

I think about his proposal before asking, “Are you sure it's something you want to do?”

My question isn't meant for me to come off as being an asshole, but it is true, and he knows it. After all, I'm one of the best players, if not the best player, here.

“I could use the practice to get better.”

That was a good point. “If that’s what you want, then so be it.”

I step away from Jeff as I realize that the break is over, and people are waiting around for me to give the next instructions.

“Okay, we're going to discuss a little bit of strategy before starting the next round of timed matches. These aren't going to be anything like rapid or blitz chess, so if the match isn't over by the end of our club meeting, that's fine. Any questions?”

Seeing none, I continue speaking. “Let's talk about one of the most fundamental strategies in chess: controlling the center of the board.” I walk up to a chessboard and point to the squares e4, d4, e5, and d5.

I move a pawn to e4, then to d4, demonstrating what I'm trying to explain. “Controlling these central squares gives your pieces more room to move. Your pieces can move around more easily, giving you more options so you're not just acting on defense against your opponent. It's a more offensive strategy and gives you more opportunities to attack.”

I go through a demonstration and explain my point. Several people ask questions and I answer quickly. Once that portion of the meeting is complete, we all pick a seat and get ready to begin our next matches.

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