Page 49 of Chess Not Checkers
“I’m a journalist. It’s in my blood.”
I grab a pillow from beside me and chuck it at Marigold. It hits her in the face, then drops onto her papers. She stares at me for a second before we all burst into laughter.
Once our giggles subside, Saylor gives me a thoughtful look. “What scares you about liking him?” she asks.
I toy with the edge of my blanket, uncomfortable with the sudden shift in mood. “I already have one therapist in my life—my sister—I don’t need another,” I grumble, but it doesn’t faze her.
“I know we’ve all got histories that we haven’t shared yet,” Saylor says, and the other two girls look away, proving she’sright. “But if we’re going to be best friends like you said you wanted, we have to talk eventually.”
I press my lips together. What she’s saying is true, but that doesn’t make it any easier.
Saylor lets out a sigh. “Fine, I’ll go first. My dad left my family when I was eight. He said he was tired of being tied down and wanted to travel and see the world. I haven’t seen him since.”
“That’s terrible, Saylor,” I say. “I’m sorry you went through that.”
She shrugs. “It hurt, but I’m going to build my own family now. That’s what I’m working toward.”
Herwhy. She’s working herself to the bone and searching for a husband because she wants to reclaim what she lost. My throat tightens. I can relate to that. If I can prove myself, then I’ll have a place in my new family that feels as secure as the one I had in the past.
“Jameson and I were best friends,” Marigold admits in the heavy silence. “We’ve known each other since elementary school. I did everything with him. All my memories are filled with him. When it came time to apply for college, we were both so excited to have gotten into our dream school. Then we found out the paper only took one summer internship.” She stares down at her article, not daring to look at us. “We agreed that neither of us would apply. We competed a lot in school, but this was too important to risk our friendship over.”
“He applied anyway,” I say, remembering her explanation of what happened.
She nods. “I trusted him, and he betrayed me.”
“He’s definitely going on my hit list,” Saylor says, breaking the tension by making us laugh.
I glance at Aurora, wondering if she’ll share, or if I’ll have to next. She sighs and brings her knees to her chest.
“I don’t do emotions, in case you couldn’t tell.” We all stay silent, and she lets out a soft laugh. “You don’t have to agree, I know. I guess sometimes I worry that because I’m not as expressive, people will give up on being around me. That you guys will kick me out because I’m not bouncy or funny.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Marigold says in her straightforward way. “We like you just as you are. Personally, I think if we didn’t have you, the apartment would go up in flames.”
Aurora laughs. “What does that mean?”
“You balance us out,” I explain, and Marigold nods.
“If you say so,” Aurora sounds hesitant.
“We do,” Saylor says matter-of-factly, then turns to me. “Your turn. You can’t avoid it now.”
She’s right, more than she probably realizes.Vulnerability invites vulnerability.
“Long story short: my parents are dead,” I start.
A surprised laugh bursts out of Marigold, who immediately cringes afterward. “I’m sorry, that just caught me off guard.”
I wave a hand. “It’s fine. I just figured it would be easier to get that part over with so we can get back to the whole kissing Shepherd thing. It’s not super fun for me to talk about.” My stomach clenches with nerves.
“Share as much or as little as you want,” Saylor says. “We’re here for you.”
I shoot her a grateful smile. “Basically, that terrible plot twist makes me a little hesitant when it comes to relationships. My sister fell in love, and she makes it look amazing, but…”
“The idea of losing someone is scary,” Saylor fills in the blanks. I nod. “I know my dad didn’t die, but his leaving left me feeling similar. That’s why I want to find the perfect person. Someone who won’t leave.”
Our confessions settle like puzzle pieces. They click together and create a clearer picture of who we are and who we will be as friends.
“There’s a risk involved with opening yourself up,” Marigold adds to the conversation.
