Page 30 of Chess Not Checkers
“Black or white?” Jasmine asks, holding a white pawn in her hand. It’s poised over her side of the board.
“Black,” I answer.
She sets the pawn down and continues placing pieces on the board. We’re both quiet as she does.
“How did you find my dorm?” I finally break the silence.
She glances up from the board, her expression unusually shy. “I asked one of the football players in my class.”
I try not to grimace. That’s…not good. Whoever gave the dorm number to her must have been a good friend, otherwise I’d be in Coach’s office getting yelled at right now. But still, it’s not a great look for the captain to be breaking a rule the Coach told me to enforce.
“You could have asked me,” I state.
She tucks a curl behind her ear. “I didn’t think of that.”
She’s lying. A smile tugs at the edges of my mouth.
“Tell me the truth, Chamberlain. Were you nervous to come over here?”
She rolls her eyes, but her face is turning pink. “Why would I be nervous?”
“I don’t know.” I lean back against the couch and cross my arms. “That’s what I’m curious about.”
“This candle smells really nice. Where did you get it?” Jasmine asks instead of addressing my statement.
“My sister-in-law gave it to me.”
“Oh, then I bet she got it from one of those really nice candle places. The ones where the candles cost, like, a hundred dollars—”
“Jasmine,” I cut her off.
She looks up from the board, her green eyes wide.
“We don’t do this.”
I’m about to elaborate when she speaks.
“Exactly. That’s why I’m nervous, I guess. I came here, and I don’t know what you’re thinking, and I barely know what I’m thinking,” she rambles, making me smile.
I’m thinking you’re adorable, I want to say. But that’s a level of risk I’m not sure I can take. Roundabout flirting by teasing heris one thing, but to be straightforward is asking for certain death by Bash’s hand.
“Ithinkwe’re rivals who can’t go too long without playing against each other, because everyone else is far too boring.” I say the safe answer, and I’m rewarded with a laugh.
“Is it wrong to feel that way, though?” She giggles again, and warmth fills my chest. “Because I do. Barrett was a great player, better than me to be sure, but he just sat there silent like a statue.”
I grin. “So what you’re saying is, you like the sound of my voice?”
She groans. “You ruin everything.”
“Says the woman who came to see me.”
Her lips press together to keep from smiling. “Are we going to play or are you going to keep making me regret all the life decisions that led me to this point?”
I laugh. “You go first.”
“Oh!” she exclaims, then reaches for her backpack that she wore in. “I forgot I brought this.”
She pulls out a plastic container and opens the lid. The scent of garlic and herbs makes my mouth water. Flaky pastries are stacked on top of each other, covered in seasoning and oozing with melted cheese.
