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I dry my eyes and shuffle downstairs to steal a sandwich from the lounge area. Some of the other challengers are sitting there, eating and drinking and laughing. They’re all going to be playing tomorrow, but the stakes are low for them. Their tournament is over.
Davies, the British guy I beat on day two, notices me and beckons me closer. My previous informal interactions with other chess players have taught me to just . . .not, but I can’tbelievably pretend I didn’t see him. I go to him, clutching my caprese panini, fully expecting some version ofShe doesn’t even go here.The group quiets. “Greenleaf, we need to ask you something.”
I brace myself. “Yeah?”
“A favor. Not a question.”
The bracing intensifies. “What’s that?”
“Could you please massacre Koch tomorrow?”
Everyone laughs.Atme?With?“Excuse me?”
“We’d be really grateful if you could humiliate the shit out of him,” someone adds.
“Every time he loses, a dragon shits a goldbrick.”
“Sex is good, but have you ever heard Koch’s little whine when he’s checkmated?”
“Basically,” Davies cuts through the others, “we despise him as a human being and we’d revel in any unhappiness you could provide for him.”
“Please, Greenleaf, don’t doodle on the score sheet.”
This time when everyone laughs, I join in. “Wow. And there I was, thinking I was alone in my revulsion.”
“No way. He’s been a total dickhead to every single one of us.”
“And his stupid tricks. When he trash- talks during a game while you’re trying to focus.”
“Or when he starts walking in circles around the chessboard. I’m thinking about the next move and he’s making me dizzy!”
“You’ve only been dealing with him for a few months—we had to put up with his cologne phase.”
“Sauvage by Christian Dior. Jesus.”
“Hebathedin it.”
“I’m pretty sure he drank it.”
I shake my head, laughing. “I’d love to win. I just don’t know if I can.”
“You are an alchemist,” Thagard- Vork says kindly. “You can do anything you want, Greenleaf.” I feel myself flush.
“Hey, Greenleaf.” Kawamura. “Are you on Discord?”
“Discord?”
“The messaging app. We have a server with most of the toptwenty players. We talk chess, gossip about FIDE, the usual. I’d love to send you an invite.”
“Oh.” I scratch my neck, looking around. These guys range from my age to late thirties. Would I even fit in? “I’m not in the top twenty.”
They laugh. Someone says, “Yet,” and they laugh harder.
“Koch isn’t in it, by the way. Which is great, since we have a whole channel dedicated to him.”
“And we’d rather crap glass twice a day than voluntarily interact with him.”
“Our love language is anti- Koch memes.” More laughter.
