Check & Mate by Ali Hazelwood

“Okay— it’s okay! You didn’t do anything wrong, honey. I swear I’m not mad. And . . .” She’s right that we don’t really discuss Dad, or what happened to him. Maybe we should? Maybe I should be talking about Dad to her? Not Mom— it would be painful for her. It would be my responsibility.

It’s only fair, considering that it’s my fault in the first place he’s not around anymore.

I kneel in front of her and take her hand in mine. “Do you want to talk about Dad?”

“Not now.” The relief that sweeps over me is embarrassing. “I’d like to know what a Zugzwang fellow is, though.”

Walked right into that one. “It’s a . . . a job. I am being paid to learn about chess. For one year.”

“And the senior center?” Her eyes widen. “And the pigeons?”

“There are no— well, there are pigeons, plenty, more than we need. But no senior center.”

“Do Mom and Sabrina know? Did you lie just to me?”

“No.” I shake my head energetically. “No one knows.”

She seems relieved. For a split second. “So you’re playing chess for money?”

“Yes.”

“Isn’t that like gambling?”

“What?”

“And isn’t gambling illegal?”

“I— ”

“Is that why you’re lying? Because you’re working for the gambling mob?”

“It’s not gambling, Darcy. It’s a sport.” I notice her raised eyebrow. She knows my athletic prowess. “Kind of.”

“Why don’t you want us to know, then?”

“There are . . . things you might not remember, because you were very young when they happened, but— ”

“Because Dad used to play chess.”

I sigh. “Yes. Partially. I just want to protect you guys from something that could hurt you.”

“I’m not fragile or— ”

“But I am. And so is Sabrina— even though she’s in her rebellious phase and would deny it. And Mom . . . Many painful things happened, Darcy. But we’re happy now.”

“Sabrina’s mostly just sullen.”

I chuckle. “True. I just want to take care of all of you.”

“And yet, you brought the Kingkiller into our house.”

“How do you even know about— ”

“The Wikipedia entry was very thorough. Did you know that he once played Jeff Bezos for charity? He beat him in twenty seconds, then asked if the water bottle next to the chessboard was for peeing.”

“A true hero of the working class. Darcy— ”

“Also, there’s tons of fanfiction on AO3, mostly of him making out with some Emil Kareem guy, but— ”

“What? How do you know what fanfiction is?”

“I read it all the time.”

“Excuse me?”

“Chill. The PG-13 stuff.”

“PG means parental guidance, which means that a parent— me— should be there with you.”

She cocks her head. “You are aware that you’re not my parent, right?”

I take a deep breath. “Listen, Darcy, the reason I was keeping a secret— ”

“Oh my God. Mal, now it’s our secret!” All of a sudden, she looks seriously pumped up.

“No. No, I don’t want you keeping secrets from Mom— ”

“I don’t mind,” she says quickly. “I want to!”

“Darcy, you were all about us telling each other everything at dinner. I’ll explain to Mom— ”

“You said it might be painful to her. And I want to have a secret with you. Something just ours!”

I study her hopeful, shining eyes, wondering if she’s been feeling isolated. I’m in NYC a lot, after all. It’s not like Sabrina can be coaxed away from her phone, and Mom is too low- energy to spend much time with her. Plus, telling the truth would open a whole silo of worms. And I’m reasonably confident that neither Mom nor Sabrina will be looking me up on the internet.

“Okay,” I say. It’s a terrible idea, but Darcy fist- pumps. Then her face takes on a calculated expression.

“But it’ll cost you.”

My eyes narrow. “Really? Are you going to blackmail me?”

“I just think that my morning oatmeal could use one more tablespoon of Nutella. Half? A teaspoon? Please?”

I shake my head and go in for a hug.



I DON’T SEE NOLAN AGAIN.

Not like, ever. But not for weeks, and I don’t hear about him, either, with the exception of a Tuesday afternoon when he trends on chess Twitter, after forgetting about a virtual tournament and showing up on camera five minutes late while still pulling a Henley over his chest (#KingkillerSoHot). The fact that I notice his absence from my life has me slightly rattled. I might be even more rattled, but it’s the busiest I’ve ever been.

After Philly Open, Defne changes my routine. She schedules more time for me with the GMs (including Oz, who loves it) to focus on specific weaknesses in my play. She also has me play online chess to increase my rating, and daily matches with Zugzwang’s patrons. “It suits you better— learning by doing,” she tells me.

She’s right. My game improves quickly, positions and strategies easy at my fingertips. “Who’d have guessed that deliberately cultivating a natural talent would lead to the betterment of said talent,” Oz says tartly. In retaliation, I chew an entire bag of kettle chips at my desk.