And like that, we went on the hunt for our set of pieces. My heart pounded steadily as I found a stick that I could break up into four little twigs for the knights, a dying flower that I could pluck four petals off of for the bishops, managed to find two bottle caps for the queens, and four acorns for rooks. I brought them back to the chessboard, laying them out as Beck finished collecting sixteen pebbles for the pawns.
He slowly eased himself into the seat across from me, setting each stone in its space. “What about the kings?” he asked, but his eyes flicked to my necklace, answering his question.
I removed it carefully and slid the two charms off the gold chain. I pressed the opal pendant to my spot, the four-leaf clover to his. “Don’t forget which piece does what,” I told him, the words giving me déjà vu.
“Never,” Beck murmured, then tipped his chin. “Your move.”
I regarded the board, at the array of trinkets on it, committing it all to memory. Pebbles were pawns, flowers were bishops, acorns were rooks. Beck was my opponent, and I was his. Forone final time.
I moved a pebble forward.
“Did you get in trouble for coming home all dirty?” he asked as he mirrored my movement.
“They were more concerned with the way I actedbeforeshowing up covered in mud.”
His lips twisted a little, but it wasn’t the signature smirk I’d grown used to these past few weeks. This one seemed more tired. More resigned. “Add it to your short list of moments you weren’t perfect.”
“Perfect is boring.”
Now Beck’s smile twitched bigger. “Listen to her,” he said to no one in particular. “She turns eighteen, and she becomes a changed woman.”
“Why are you going back to Stanford for the summer semester?” I asked, and pushed forward another pawn. “I thought you said it was boring.”
Beck picked up a pebble and shifted it forward a space. “I didn’t finish the spring semester. My advisor suggested making up for it in the summer.”
“Why didn’t you finish?—”
“Nellie.” Beck’s voice was firm, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Let’s just play so you can get back inside. I don’t really feel like answering questions.” And then, quieter, “Your move.”
“What about my necklace?” I cleared my throat. “Will you answer that question? Where did you get it?”
“From Aunt Ally.” Beck studied the board. “She said she knew there was a girl I liked. Told me to give it to her.”
Ms. Jennings had known, then, as soon as he’d put that necklace on me. I remembered the way her eyes fell to iton Senior Night, the way she’d traced it at Mimosa Morning. It was a strange thought, knowing Ms. Jennings had known this entire time.
My neck felt bare without it now, our pieces on the board, the chain on the table.
We played the next few turns in silence, with only the chirping crickets filling the absolute quiet between us. My fingers trembled on each piece I picked up, but Beck pretended not to notice, steadily moving pieces of his own. He swiped up a pebble of mine, and then an acorn. I’d gone into the game with no strategy, and Beck had gone into it to win.
The tables had really turned.
“I am really sorry for everything that happened in the garden,” I whispered, trying to speak past the clench in my throat. “I wasn’t trying to throw you under the bus, or throw you away. I was just… so afraid. And it’s not an excuse, but I?—”
“You asked me why I never said anything,” Beck murmured, still eyeing the board, as if he couldn’t look at me. “Why I didn’t tell anyone the truth about who set the rosebush on fire.”
You were scared, he’d replied.And I wasn’t.
“You were my best friend.” Beck shifted his makeshift knight forward, fingers lingering on the piece. “Even if we weren’t really that close, I thought of you as my best friend. I would’ve done anything for you. If Mrs. Johnson had tried to tell everyone she’d seen us kissing, I would’ve saidI’dkissedyou.” And then, hesitantly,his eyes flicked up, the green electric. “As long as it meant you weren’t in trouble.”
Even though I was sitting in the wire chair, I suddenly felt weightless, floating and falling all at the same time. Beck’s expression was open, the softest I’d seen it since he’d come back to Addison. He looked even more like the boy I’d known before—the boy I loved before. He was giving me one last glimpse before he left.
“I never was mad about the fire.” He looked back at the board. “Even if Mrs. Johnson hadn’t blamed me, I would’ve taken the blame myself.”
Hearing those words on his lips had me gasping. “But—you said that I ruined your life?—”
“I was mad that you kissed me. And mad that I kissed you back, and that I let myself think it meant more than it did.” Another non-smile twisted Beck’s lips, but in the dim light, I could see that it was embarrassment. “You didn’t ruin my life. You just broke my heart.”
My throat closed around the breath I drew in. Tears were back and burning my eyes, but I blinked quickly, refusing to let them fall. “Did you come back to get revenge on me, then?” I asked in a tight voice, pushing my rook forward one space. A waste of a move.
