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He studies me, silent. Then: “Is this because your father— ”
“No.”I close my eyes. There’s a loud roar in my ears, drums pounding at my temples. Slow, deep breaths make it recede. A little. “No.” I hold his gaze. “And please, don’teverbring up my dad again.”
He briefly looks like he won’t let it go. Then nods. “I’ll give you the money.”
“What?”
“I’ll give you the tournament prize. The one you should have been competing for.”
“Are you for real?”
“Yes.”
“If I beat you, you’ll give me fifty thousand dollars.”
“I’ll give it to you even if I win.”
I laugh. “Bullshit.”
“I’m not lying. Fifty thousand dollars is nothing for me.”
“Yeah, well.” Having him say so in front of my lower- middleclass house- and- apricot- tree combo stings. “Screw you.”
I walk away again, and this time he doesn’t grab my wrist. He doesn’t need to: with two steps he’s in front of me, between me and the house. The sun has set again, and the garden is pitch black. “I meant that I’m good for the money. I’ll pay you to play with me.”
“Why? Is it because you can’t stand to have someone best you? Are you like Koch, unable to accept that you once lost to a woman?”
“What?” He looks genuinely appalled. “No. I amnothinglike him.”
“Thenwhy?”
“Because,” he near- growls. “Because I— becauseyou— ” He stops abruptly and takes a few steps away. He makes a frustrated, abortive gesture with his arm, something I recognize from his rare losses at chess.
I guess I won, then.
“Listen, Nolan. I’m sorry. I . . . I’m not going to play with you.” I expect the disappointed expression on his face. The mirror feeling in my chest, not so much. “It’s not personal. But I promised myself that I’d keep chess at a distance.”
I turn without saying goodbye and walk back inside the house, hating myself all the way to my room for the odd feeling of loss in the pit of my stomach.
I’m stupid. He just hates the idea that we played once and he lost. I’m not special. This is not about me— it’s about him. His status. His insecurities. His need to dominate.
I let myself into my room. My head throbs, and I cannot wait to go to bed. I cannot wait for this day to be over.
“Did Nolan leave?”
Darcy’s voice startles me. I’d forgotten she’d be in here, doing homework at her desk.
“Yes. He had to go home.”
“Well, that’s understandable.”
I nod, looking for my pajamas.
“He must be very busy. He’s the number one chess player in the world, after all.”
I blink.
I blink again.
