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Never negotiate with those hormonal, anarchic, bloodthirsty sharks. God, I love them so much I could cry.
“There’s no way you’re here of your own free will, not with those two. So either they found out about the tentacle porn, or—”
“But this is my emotional support sandwich.” “Then have a mental breakdown.”
“Lucky for you, in chess deserving and undeserving wins count the same.”
“You are a chess child. An infant. I could shove my nipple in your mouth and you wouldn’t be able to latch on to it.” Defne’s eyebrow lifts. “I didn’t know you lactated, Oz.”
The match will be fine. Uneventful. Not a big deal. A micro deal. Nano deal.
Sistercide. Sistercide is the only option.
“That’s kinda sad,” Darcy says. “I see my family every day of every week of every year.” “That’s also kinda sad,” Sabrina mumbles.
“You should stop swearing in front of twelve-year-olds. Mrs. Vitelli says that my brain’s still all squishy. I’ll probably end up in juvie if you swear just once more.” “Fuck.” “Here goes another promising young woman.”
“Are the three of you in some polyamorous relationship?” “Did you just ask if I’m sleeping with both our teammates?” He lifts one eyebrow. “I’m going to FIDE’s HR.” “What? No—don’t go to HR.” “You’re overstepping, Mal.” “You came to my house and ate many of my ice cream sandwiches.”
“Who’s the current champion, by the way?” “Germany. But they won’t be strong this year, with Koch already in Moscow.” “That’s why the North American continent felt so much more pleasant than usual,” Nolan mutters.
Nolan. Nolan will know. He’ll want to fix this, too. I need to get in touch with him, but how? I don’t have his number. Do I summon him with a pentagram made of rooks, or—Emil!
“This apartment he left you…It’s big for one person,” I murmur. “Want to move in?” His tone matches mine, intimate. “Sure. I’ll sell my pancreas. It should cover the first three months of rent.”
“I usually have dinner standing up in front of that chessboard over there.” “I’m surprised you have dinner at all. And don’t just sustain yourself on the tears of your rivals.”
They don’t know what it’s like, being told that you’re inherently destined to be second best.”
“Don’t be alarmed,” I say, mostly to myself. “But I think that I might be—”
IN LOVE WITH YOU!!!!!
The last six months have been a party, and I’m the last to get here. Or maybe I was here all along, blindfolded and locked in a closet.
“Just checking in if you’re done acting like a big whiny shit who’s all alone against the world. Any updates?”
“Well, you know how I feel about agreeing with white guys with trust funds, but…I might have to give him a brownie point here.”
