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“About your move? It can’t be that complicated. You either move this guy here or here.” I point. “You want to avoid getting jumped, so I think steer clear of this guy. Do I have to go on?”
He quirks his lip up. “No, though I appreciate the lesson. I’m thinking… this is fun.”
“It is.” I’d say something snarky, except there’s something about Nick that makes me feel okay about opening up a little. Maybe it’s because I know he owns Kermit slippers.
“Really fun,” he adds. “Maybe the best Friday night I’ve had on campus since moving here.”
“From where?”
“Philadelphia. What about you?”
“I was raised here in Stillwell. My grandparents own the Stillwell Diner. Gran cooks, Grandpa chats up the customers. My parents work there, too.”
“Ah-ha. Hence, your grandmother not wanting to cook on her days off.”
“Hey, not bad listening skills. It’s nice to have someone actually paying attention instead of ignoring me to stare at their phone. So, Philadelphia? You’re far from home.”
He shrugs. “Yeah, but it doesn’t feel like that right now.”
He’s right. There’s something about playing this game—with Nick—that makes me feel like I’mhome. I feel happier than Ihave since moving to campus. More comfortable, more relaxed. And giddy, too, like I’m alive and excited about… everything.
“Maybe we should make it a weekly thing,” he says.
“Checkers?”
“Yeah. But more boards, so more people can play. Maybe we’re not the only ones who need this. You know how many freshmen I’ve seen wandering around like they’re homesick, but they don’t want to say it? And there’s no way beer pong is everyone’s thing. There are some of us who don’t want to be sweaty and listening to loud music and in some kind of weird, freshman mosh-pit.”
“I think you described the only party I’ve been to on campus this year. It was awful.” I consider his idea, and it takes me about two seconds to see he’s onto something. “You know, it is a nice way to hang out. No pressure, and a good change of pace from hitting the books… Okay, I’m in. Friday Night Checkers Club. What’s first on the agenda?”
“We need about ten more checkers sets. And we should put up flyers.” He says it with such excitement.
“You think we can get twenty other people in here playing board games on a Friday night?”
“I bet more than that, but that’ll be a good start.” He slides his red piece forward. “Pay attention, Purple Glasses, I’m about to lure you into a trap.”
“Geeky co-host of your board game club?” I slide my piece diagonally.
He jumps my piece and removes it from the board. “Nope. A checkers trap… Don’t worry. It was just one piece. You haven’t lost yet.”
“Yet?”
“I have a strategy. Distract you with chitchat.”
“Ha. Not gonna work. I have a strategy, too. Purple Glasses is going to control the middle of the board.”
“If you were a real master, you would have kept your tactic to yourself.”
“I figure since I’m playing against a beginner, I don’t have to be that tricky.”
He jumps me again.
I groan.
“Your chitchat got you,” he says. “You might lose to a beginner tonight. What do you say to that?”
I mime running a zipper over my lips and fake-scowl down at the board.
But inside, I’m far from upset.
