Page 17 of Chess Not Checkers
I laugh. “That’s one way of putting it. I don’t know, I guess I’m not a huge fan of the game itself. I’m not a cheerleader because I love football, you know?”
They nod in understanding.
“I feel like a bunch of guys running into each other would get boring,” Saylor comments.
Aurora doesn’t say anything, but she’s faintly smiling from her spot in the corner of the couch. Saylor is on the floor, her usual setup of textbooks and flashcards spread around her. She’s been splitting her attention between work and interacting with us. Marigold is up on the couch with Aurora, while I opted to settle onto the floor, my back leaned against the couch and a blanket draped over my legs.
“Well, hockey is more entertaining because they actually fight, but football is interesting too. There’s strategy involved. Once you understand the game, it starts to be more fun.”
“I didn’t know you were a sports fan,” I comment, craning my neck to look at her behind me.
Marigold looks down, poking at her pint of cherry ice cream with her spoon. “Uh, yeah, I got into it when I was younger.”
She doesn’t elaborate, and I start to wonder if it has something to do withTheTraitor, Jameson.
“What about you, Aurora?” Saylor shifts the attention, likely sensing the change in mood.
Aurora shrugs. “I’m not big on any sport outside of dance. I enjoyed watching you cheer when they showed it, Jasmine.”
I smile at her. “Thanks! It was sweet of y’all to watch for me. I’m sure they didn’t show us a lot.”
All of the girls stayed home, promising to use their student passes to see me next week at the home game.
“It was likeWhere’s Waldo?, but searching for you instead. We’d be doing something, and one of us would shout that you were on the screen so we could all look,” Saylor says.
I laugh, but my eyes start to burn. This is exactly the kind of friendship I hoped for when I made that roommate post in the Thrashers Support Group. I didn’t think I’d be this blessed, though. To have them watching from here and my family at the game? It’s too much for my tired brain to take. I attempt to discreetly dab at my eyes with the sleeve of my hoodie.
“Are you crying?” Aurora asks in her straightforward way.
I sniffle. “Maybe.”
“Awww,” Saylor coos, and comes over to give me a hug.
Marigold squeezes my shoulders from behind.
“Sorry, I just got emotional because I didn’t expect y’all to watch the game and get me ice cream. It’s too much.”
“Don’t apologize.” Saylor smiles as she pulls back. “And it’s not too much. It’s barely anything at all, considering we’re friends and this is what friends do.”
“You’re the best,” I tell her, then look at the other two girls. “All of you.”
Marigold smiles, while Aurora looks uncomfortable with the praise.
“Okay, enough of the mushy stuff.” Marigold raises her brows suggestively. “I want to know if you flirted with any of the players during all this traveling.”
I laugh. “We don’t travel with the team; we have our own bus. But now that you mention it, one of the veteran cheerleaders said that usually the players come over before or after the game to talk to them, but they didn’t this year. So I don’t know what that’s about.”
“Maybe one of the guys got burned by a cheerleader, and the team is standing in solidarity,” Saylor says with a giggle.
“Or maybe they heard about how Jasmine hates Shepherd,” Marigold says wryly.
I roll my eyes. “I don’t hate him. I just find him obnoxious.”
“Either way, they may not like that you have it out for their star quarterback,” she teases.
“I doubt any of them even know who I am.” Though I wouldn’t put it past Shepherd to brag about beating me at chess, I can’t see him talking about me with his friends.
“Maybe it’s Saylor’s theory, then.” Marigold shrugs.
