Page 46 of Chess Not Checkers
She rolls her eyes but comes closer to me anyway. I set up our little camp by pushing two armchairs that were across the room together. In between them is a small table where I set a few snacks I grabbed from the hotel store.
“Hopefully your chef palette can stomach some junk food,” I say when I see her studying the array.
“You bought all this?” she asks, eying the caramel chocolate bar before picking it up. “This is one of my favorites.”
I shrug. “I figured if we were going to keep baring our souls to one another, we needed sustenance.”
She laughs and sits down in one of the chairs, tucking her feet up under her. “Thank you. This means a lot,” she says softly, setting the chocolate bar on the arm of her chair. “I don’t know where to start.”
“You don’t have to share,” I tell her. No matter how much I crave to know more about her, her feeling comfortable with me is more important.. “We can just hang out.”
She shakes her head. “I want to. It’s just hard. I guess I could just rip the Band-Aid off.” It seems like she’s talking more to herself than me at this point.
She sucks in a breath, then lets it out in a whoosh. “My parents are dead.”
The statement rocks through me. It feels like I just got sacked. I stare down at the floor for a moment, processing her words.
“They died a few years ago, and after that, I went to live with my older sister, Dahlia. You’ve met her.”
I nod in acknowledgment of her statement, though my mind is still reeling. With how much Jasmine mentioned her family, I would have never thought her parents would be gone. I remember her mentioning that she wanted to be a chef to honor her mom, and my heart cracks at the recollection.
“Well, the first few months—really, a year—were rough. I fought against Dahlia being my guardian a lot. Finally, we had a breakdown moment, and I realized in my haze of grief I’d forgotten she lost her parents too.”
My throat grows tight. I can’t imagine that kind of pain.
“Over the years, Dahlia sacrificed everything to take care of me. She worked hard and scheduled her life around mine. When she met her now-husband, Levi, she finally started to do thingsfor herself again. But even then, she couldn’t fully embrace her newlywed life because she was saddled with me.”
I see where her story is going, and I already hate it. She shouldn’t feel like she owes a debt to her sister. I’m certain Dahlia wouldn’t think that. All of the Carter/Holt family are the most selfless, loving people I’ve ever met. They’re so close it makes me green with envy whenever I’m around them, because I never had that growing up. It was just me and Jason.
“When Dahlia joined the Carter family, she brought me with her. They’ve treated me like their own since the beginning.” Jasmine’s smile is soft but pained. “Levi’s brother Grayson taught me chess and supported me training to make the Thrashers cheer team. Bash and MJ paid for my apartment and pulled strings so I didn’t have to stay in a freshman dorm. They’ve given me so much.”
She pauses, and I can see in her eyes that she won’t make it through the next part alone. I reach over the table and hold my hand out. Her green eyes bounce from my hand to my face. Slowly, she slips her palm against mine. I squeeze her hand and she gives me a small smile.
“I have to pay them back. That’s my why. Dahlia is finally getting to live her own life, but it doesn’t make up for all that she lost. And everyone else invested time and money into me. I have to show them it wasn’t a waste.”
“Jasmine,” I say softly. “I don’t think that’s how you should look at things. They wouldn’t ask that of you.”
Pain mars her expression. “That’s exactly why I have to. They’d never take anything for themselves. This is how I can give back.”
I rub my thumb over the back of her hand. “Will it be enough?”
She looks down at our hands. “What do you mean?” She replies with a question.
“If you accomplish all of your goals, will it be enough? Or will there always be something else you could do to repay them?”
She stays silent for a while. I don’t fill the void, instead choosing to lose myself in the feel of her soft skin beneath my thumb.
“I don’t know,” she finally answers. “But I have to try. Isn’t it the same for you? The reporters might keep talking about Jason for the rest of your career. But you’re still going to try to beat his record.”
Her words hit home like a blow to the chest. She’s not wrong, and it makes my advice to her seem hypocritical.
“You’re right.” I sigh. “I guess I was hoping you’d be healthier than me.” I give her a wry smile.
“It’s not really hurting anyone, is it? We’re just going after our goals. Being ambitious.”
“That’s true,” I say. “Maybe we’re only a little toxic.”
She laughs. “I’ll take it.”
