Page 11 of Chess Not Checkers
Saylor falls back on the carpet with a groan. “I’m going to be one of those sad workaholic doctors in the movies that drinks wine alone in her high-rise apartment. I’ll have to get a cat. I don’t even like cats.”
I set aside my muffin and plop down on the floor next to her. “You won’t have to do that. I’m sure you’ll find a few candidates, and when you find the one, we’ll make pumpkin muffins for him together,” I say gently.
Saylor looks up at me, her blue eyes misty. “Thanks, Jasmine.”
I pat her hand. “Anytime. Now, is there any way we can help you with all this? Or would we just get in your way? I know you say you love to organize, but you cleaned up dinner too, so this feels like asking a lot of you after a long day.”
It would be easy to accept Saylor’s generosity with a mere thank you, but I would hate for her to feel taken advantage of.
Saylor pushes herself up to a seated position again, her long blonde hair rippling down her back, still wavy from the curlers she used this morning. I love my natural curls, but I have toadmit seeing how smooth her hair is after a humid day has me a little green with envy.
“I’m almost done, actually. I just have to add Graham’s schedule.”
“Graham?” I question.
She smiles at the screen. “He’s a friend of mine and my brother’s. We grew up together. He’s an artist, and I like to put down any events he has for the semester so I can try to support him.”
I share a look with Marigold, who seems to be thinking the same thing that I am. Given how much we’ve gotten Saylor to share already, it’s probably best not to pester her much more, so I shake my head to indicate that to Marigold. She nods in return. Aurora watches us with curious dark eyes.
“I guess I should have asked if y’all need anybody else’s schedules on here? Family or boyfriend or friend’s?” Saylor looks up from the laptop, unaware of the wordless communication that just took place.
“If I get you someone’s schedule, can you put it on there so I know when to avoid them?” Marigold asks wryly.
I let out a little laugh, knowing she must be talking about Jameson. “I’d like that option too,” I say in a similar tone. Though I don’t know how much it would help, considering I see Shepherd in class, at chess club, and every Saturday on the field starting this weekend.
“Um, sure,” Saylor says with a confused expression. “I can put their schedules in my least favorite color: traffic-cone orange.”
Marigold laughs. “I was mostly kidding, but I’ll let you know if I get it. Also, I agree—that’s a terrible color.”
“Very aggressive,” I add.
“Mm-hmm,” Aurora hums in quiet agreement.
“We could mark the classes we hate in that color?” Saylor suggests with a smile.
“I don’t think you’d like it if I did that,” Marigold says.
“Why not?”
“Because I’d mark all my math and science courses.”
Saylor looks personally offended. I can’t help but laugh. Aurora’s mouth tips up in a hint of a smile.
“I can help you learn to like science,” Saylor says with a determined nod.
“I wouldn’t waste your limited time,” Marigold replies.
“Maybe we stick to the prescribed color scheme?” I suggest to keep the peace. “No orange at all. Unless we start including the schedules of our enemies.”
Marigold nods. “Sounds good to me.”
“Sure,” Aurora adds.
“You guys have enemies? It’s only the first week of school!” Saylor exclaims.
I burst into laughter, and the rest of the girls—including Aurora—join in. As I’m doubled over on the carpet, joy warms my chest. Maybe these girls aren’t my sister, but there’s definitely sister potential in each of them. And that’s something worth being happy about.
Chapter seven
