โBy 3:00 p.m. on the following day, Nolan has spoken fewer than fifteen words to me.โ
Why knight a5?
Could sacrifice the queen.
And my personal favorite:ย Getting a muffinโ want one?
Maybe I hallucinated the previous night. Maybe our kiss was a dream. Maybe the way I woke up in his empty room, a mug of hot coffee on the bedside tableโ maybe I need a checkup toโ
โWhat do you think, Mal?โ Tanu asks. From her tone, not for the first time.
โAbout what?โ
โThis position. What would you do?โ I glance at the board. Weโre analyzing a Koch game from last year. Well,ย theyย are analyzing. Iโm ruminating.
โItโs weak. The left side could be exploited.โ โYeah, thatโs what Nolan said, too.โ
I look up at him, and instantly flush. Because thatโs apparently what I do nowโ stress over whether some dude I didnโt even sleep with isnโt interested in me anymore because Iโm a total mess, because I toss and turn at night, because my morning breath smells like the dumpster behind a fish restaurant.
This is uncharted territory. An entire new galaxy. Iโm used to caring about what Mom, Darcy, Sabrina, Easton think of me. I have room for no one else, andโ
โWould you agree, Greenleaf?โ Emil asks.
Shit. โSorry, with what?โ โWith what Nolan said.โ
Nolanโs eyes are unreadable. โHe castled too late,โ he repeats.
I glance at the board. โOr he shouldnโt have castled at all,โ I say, pretending Iโm not flustered.
โKochโs so uneven.โ Emil rubs his temples. โHow can one go from disastrous blunders to near- genius moves like the one against Greenleaf? Heโs like two completely different players.โ
โAnd which one will he be in Italy?โ Tanu asks.
No one answers. Nolan stares in the mid- distance, and I stare at him like a twerp.
We analyze Kochโs end games until late. By the time Nolan and Emil stand to make dinner, the sun has been down for hours. โYouโre staying till the end of January, right?โ Tanu asks me, voice low. The others are arguing over whether one should throw the pasta into the water before it boils. (Nolan: โWho cares? Itโll be faster.โ Emil: โYou areโ and I cannot stress this enoughโ aย tasteless peasant.โ)
โThatโs the plan. You arenโt?โ โOnly until the semester starts.โ
โOh.โ I think of Nolan and me alone in this house. โOh.โ โDefne will come up and help, of course,โ she continues.
I frown. Defne approved of me becoming Nolanโs second because she said that it would be great training for me, but . . . โI didnโt think they were that close.โ
โOh, theyโreย superย close. They both trained with Nolanโs grandfather before . . . well. But Nolan still needsย you. He doesnโt show it, but Kochโs unpredictability rattled him. He needs someoneย heย cares about who also cares aboutย him. Like you do, you know?โ
Oh God. โTanu, Nolan and I . . .โ I shake my head and shift closer, perched on the edge of my chair. โI guess weย areย close in some ways, but weโre not . . . together.โ
โOh, I know relationships are weird.โ Her smile is reassuring. โI mean, Emil and I technically arenโt together, either, because . . . well. Not that he deserves me, but mostly, the distance sucks. But Nolan is so into you.โ
โItโs . . .โ I shake my head. โItโs complicated.โ
She laughs, a mix of confusion and amusement. โWellโ I donโt know whatโs going on, but Iโve never seen him as calm and happy as when you stick around, soโ โ
โHey, do you guys want to play two versus two?โ Emil interrupts me. โThereโre four of us, so two teams.โ
I quickly consider the possible permutations. Iโd be either against Nolan, orโ
โIโll team with Mallory,โ he calls from the kitchen.
Tanu lifts her eyebrow at me, and I close my eyes. Theyโre still closed a few seconds later when Nolan returns from the kitchen and, instead of taking a free seat, lifts one leg and slides between me and the back of my chair.
I nearly gasp. He takes up a lot of room, always, and this isnโt going to work. Iโm going to fall over.
Or Iโll be fine, here in his lap. The hand thatโs not busy adjusting the black pieces to the center of their squares casually rests against my abdomen, spanning its width. Itโs the same hand as last nightโ confident, soothing. This feels nice. Smells even better. Tanuโs eyebrow lifts a millimeter higher, and Emil moves his pawn to d4, unbothered by me sitting between his closest friendโs thighs.
โWant to go first?โ Nolan murmurs, lips to the shell of my ear.
I shiver. Then I nod, and my hair brushes against his chin. My skin heats, and Iโm too flustered to think, so I do the first thing that comes to mind.
Knight to f6.
I remember how much Nolan hates the Grรผnfeld only after he groans and sinks his teeth into my earlobe.
WE PLAY FIVE GAMES. NOLAN AND I WIN ALL EXCEPT FOR ONE,ย and thatโs my
blunderโs fault. The hanging queen.
โThat was . . . a move,โ Tanu says, advancing her knight, and Nolan makes a choked noise in the back of his throat and hides his face in the curve of my neck, as though unable to witness the mess I made. I want to hiss that if he werenโt tucking me into himself with a hand on my belly, maybe my brain wouldnโt be a slushie. But his breath tickles my nape, and while everyone thinks hard about the next move and the room is silent, I can feel his heartbeat warm against my back.
Itโs the closest Iโve ever been to someone without s*x. The closest Iโve been to someoneย withย s*x.
And the most distracted Iโve ever felt in a chess game, in life, and the worst part is, I donโt believe Nolanโs toying with me. Sometimes his chin rests on my shoulder, boyish, artless, and I know that heโs just doing what feels good. It justย happensย to distract me.
Heโs the first to say, โIโm going to bed,โ when Tanu offers to put on a movie. He loads the dishwasher, heads to his room with an absentminded wave, and I am left there, stuck between his absence and Emilโs scathing takedown of Aronofskyโs filmography. Iโm a balloon, blown larger and tighter and fuller by the second, ready to explode.
So I bolt. I leave the Aronofsky convo behind and march down the hallway. I donโt bother knockingโ just open the door and let myself in Nolanโs room. Not my best idea, since he just took off his shirt and is wearing only his jeans.
I lean back against the door.ย Shit. What am I doing?
โThat hung queen,โ he says with a small smile, like me barging in is as natural as sundown. Heโs fit and well muscled. I wonder when he finds time to work out, to look like that. โThough Iโm sure Tanu and Emil appreciated the winโ โ
โCan you please explain?โ
โExplain?โ
โLast nightโโ I gesture confusedlyโ โand then this morning, and then today, tonight, justย now.โ
He tilts his head. โYes. Thatย isย how time works.โ โNo, Iโ โ I squeeze my eyes shut. โI hate this.โ โHate what?โ
โThat Iโm here asking you . . . that youโre in my head, and Iโ โ I run a hand down my face. โNo. Listen . . . I donโt care. Iโm notย supposedย to care about whether you . . . Iโm not supposed to be thinking about you at allโ I have aย familyย to take care of. Shit to get done. But youย kissย me, then ignore me like nothing happenedโ โ
โRight.โ He crosses his arms. โThatโsย yourย move, isnโt it?โ โWhat?โ
โYouโre the one who ignores people. Leave them behind before they leave you, right? Spare yourself the mortifying ordeal of being known.โ
โThatโs unfair.โ I push away from the door. Begin pacing inside the room. โItโs different. I donโt usuallyโ I haveย responsibilities. I donโt have time toย moon, Nolan. I cannot be distracted by people who donโt need me, but then youโย youโ โ
My eyes catch on something on his desk, buried under a pile of chess books thatโs not unlike something Dad would set aside to make room for me on the couch.
Itโs the German Chess flier. From Toronto. From the night we . . . โThe tic- tac- toe sheet.โ
โWhat?โ He comes to stand behind me. โOh, yeah.โ
Itโs on his nightstand, preserved like a trophy. He brought it from Toronto, to Moscow, to his apartment in New York, toย here. Warmth spreads in my stomach.
I resist it. Bite the inside of my cheek. Then give in, and ask. โWhy did you keep it?โ
โIt made me think of you.โ
His arms close around my rib cage, right below my breasts, and I close my eyes. โWhy would you keep something that makes you think of me?โ
I feel him shrug. โBecause I think of you anyway, Mallory.โ
I turn around. Break contact. This is unbearable. This closeness with him. These tugs toward him, deep in my stomach. Itโs what Iโve been avoidingโ something that I know can only end in lies and betrayal. Iโve seen it happen before.
โWhat do you want from me, Nolan, andโ will you please stop
smiling.โ
โIโm not.โ He grins wider.
โIโm serious, if you donโt quit smiling.โ
โThatโs not a threat. Itโs not even a grammatically correct sentence.โ โWhat do you want from me? What are we . . .โ I bury my face in my
hands. This is too raw. Too untraveled. Too risky and confusing. โI donโt understand why youโre in my head.โ
โYouโre in mine, too. But I know why.โ
I groan and make myself look at him. Heโs not smiling anymore. โJust . .
. what do you want from me?โ
โI want everything.โ His tone is calm. Matter-of-fact. Naked, in a way that has nothing to do with his clothes. โIโm all in.โ He slowly lowers his forehead until it touches mine. His eyes merge together into one, right on his nose. All I can hear is the sound of our breathing, and something inside me clicks into place. โWhat about you, Mallory?โ
I donโt answer. Instead I do what I know: I push my chin up to kiss him, and it works just as well.
Itโs even better than yesterday. His arms cage me against the dresser, and mine loop around his neck. Iโm wearing a T-shirt, and my hands make contact with the vast expanse of his back, smooth and sunshine- hot. I open my mouth, and he licks my lower lip before his tongue slides against mine, clumsy and hot and insistent and delicious. The helpless, eager, guttural noises weโre both making are maybe embarrassing, but itโs okay.
Even if I never catch my breath again.
โSlow down,โ I tell him. โLetโs just . . .โ
โI think about this every second of every day.โ His palm slides up my back, and my body is like a pawn in his hands. He turns us around and then
weโre on the unmade bed, the twisted sheets digging into my spine. โYouโll be playing the most beautiful chess Iโve ever seen, and I dream about having you under me. Itโs fuckingย confusing.โ
Weโre both wearing too many clothes, and suddenly Iโm impatient. I want bare. I want skinโย moreย skin. I want him closer, in a seamless, sticky way. Heโs hard against my stomach, and the two of us feel both familiar and soul- baringly intimate, like nothing has been before.
โDo you . . .โ My hand slides down his abs, meets the waistband of his jeans, and itโs finally there, a hint of that hesitation, that wobbliness I expected from him. โNo?โ I ask.
His throat bobs as he swallows. His full lips tremble for the barest second. โAre you real?โ The air between us swells, overflows. โSometimes Iโm scared that I imagined you. Sometimes I think youโre only in my head.โ
โIโm here,โ I breathe out. Iโm a pool of liquid heat.
โI have no idea what Iโm doing,โ he says, biting softly the hollow under my ear.
I shiver. โI can help,โ I tell him, even if my neurons are boiling to mush. โYeah?โ
โItโs kind of like chess. I do one thing . . .โ I undo the first button of his jeans, slowly. Feel, more than hear, the hitch of his breath. โAnd you do another.โ
He holds himself up on his arms and looks down at me, like heโs inventorying, deciding where to start. His index finger hooks on the hem of my shirt and drags it upward, stopping right below my bra. He stares at my navel for what feels like minutes, then says, โI want odds. Since itโs my first time.โ
โYou want a handicap?โ โI wantย twoย moves.โ
I laugh. And then sober when he pins my hands above my head, in a way that suggests that he might not know what heโs doing but he has plans, fantasies, strategies, a rich interior world that will be put to use, and . . .
โI hope,โ I say, serious, โthat youโre going to like this as much as chess.โ โI think,โ he tells me with a small smile, โthat I already do.โ