“What’s on this list?” he asked.
I ticked off each goal on my fingers. “Finish the house, get visitation, get the girls, mourn Mom, and deal with Trace.”
“Lily, that’s admirable, but—”
“But what?” I interrupted him.
He raised his hands defensively. “Listen, life doesn’t work like that. You need to embrace what hits you here,” he said, pressing a finger at my temple. “You try to force things and you can do more damage.”
“I know what I’m doing,” I told him.
“I guess,” he said, but he didn’t look convinced.
“Let’s just see who we play first.”
“Fine,” he said and started walking back toward the main convention hall lobby.
“Listen, I know what I’m doing,” I told him one more time.
“You said that.”
“I can’t let anything distract me from getting my sisters back.”
“I know this, Lily. I’m just saying if you delay handling Trace and, more importantly, grieving your mom, it will eat you alive when you finally embrace it. It feels like you’re delaying the inevitable.”
He walked faster than me again, so I tugged on his arm for him to stop. He stared down at me. Tears filled my eyes. “I know what will happen if I let the loss of my mom come tumbling out of the cage I’ve put that grief in, okay? I won’t recover, Salinger,” I harshly whispered. “Do you understand that?” His gaze softened. “I won’t recover. I owe Mama this. I owe her this. Grief this profound isn’t something I’m equipped to handle when I’m the deep root of it. I killed them, Salinger. I ignored her when she pleaded for help.” I grasped a handful of the shirt near my chest. “I killed her. I’m going to have to live with that the rest of my life. Avoiding it won’t rid me of the eventual blame. I know I’m still left holding the gun, but you want to know the part that gets me? I didn’t even notice until after the trigger had been pulled.”
Tears threatened to spill over. Both Salinger’s hands found my arms and he pulled me to an alcove, away from prying eyes.
“That’s exactly what makes it an accident,” he told me, his eyes desperate.
The tears I’d fought to keep back crept over without my permission.
“What do you call an accident that could have been prevented, huh? What do you call that?” He began to open his mouth, but I cut him off. “Negligence, Salinger. I was careless and I failed to help her. Accident or not, I am culpable for this, and I will feel it every day for the rest of my life.”
“Jesus Christ, Lily. You’re nineteen. Yeah, you fucked up, but this fallout isn’t normal, do you hear me? You cannot hold yourself accountable for what happened. There are too many variables. What if they’d been better parents and not required so much of you? What if Sterling had not beaten the ever-living shit out of you all the time? What if he wasn’t a drunk who gambled all your family’s money away and held a job like a fucking real man would have? What if your mom had chosen a different path in life? What if they had been normal? You can’t hold yourself culpable for an accident that could have very well been prevented by them had they been the adults they claimed to be!”
Tears streamed down my face. “Great questions. Those are great questions, but I can’t answer for them. Wanna know why? Because they’re not here, are they? They’re not here, and it was because I didn’t do what she wanted. The girls don’t have a mom because of me, Salinger.”
He shook his head.
“I don’t know what you’re looking for, Lily.”
“Just stop, Salinger.”
“So this is what it’s going to be for you? This is your forever?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Why?”
“I won’t ever be able to amend for this, to make it right, make it perfect.”
Something flashed across his face. “Ah, I see now.” He paused. “It’s all an illusion, Lily. Did you know that?”
“What is?” I asked.
“Perfection. Nobody has it. The only good in perfection is the seeking of it. It’s in the seeking we find hope and love and light. It’s in the seeking we sacrifice for others, in the seeking we abandon selfish.” I stared at him. “Every person falls back, but not every person picks themselves up.” He looked at me. “Pick yourself up, Lily.”
He brought me to his chest and held me tightly against him. I fought him at first, but he refused to let me go. I eased into his embrace and cried into his chest tears I swore to everything I wouldn’t let fall until I’d completed the list. I’d promised myself, and I was seething at him for making me approach my grief when I wasn’t ready, but I also desperately needed the hug. The physical touch of another human being. He comforted me. I didn’t deserve it, but I needed it.
He held me for countless minutes. I both hated and loved him for it.
“This was never on the list,” I spoke into his chest.
“Add it to the list then, Lily.”
“Why did you make me say those things?”
“You can’t blame me for that. You wouldn’t have said them if they didn’t need to be said. I don’t agree with some of your thinking, but I’ll respect you enough to disagree peacefully.”
“Thank you.”
He brought me away from his chest and the skin on my cheeks fell cold. He held my face, wiping the tears away with his thumbs.
“Are you gonna be okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
“You’re not but that’s all right. I’ll be here for you always.”
His words struck me like an arrow. He was always right there. He was always right there.
“Do you feel like I’m using you?” I asked him.
“No,” he replied without an instant of thought.
They called for the first round and my stomach plummeted to my feet. We walked out into the lobby once more and followed the group inside a large room. Two rows of rectangular tables lined end to end in a long succession sat in between raised observation decks with railings. People sat in groups there. Competitors’ families and friends I could only assume.
“Name?” a man with a clipboard asked me at the entrance.
“Lily Hahn.”
“Table seven, seat twenty-two.”
“Thank you.”
“Name?” the man asked Salinger.
“Salinger Park.”
Table nineteen, seat seventy-six.”
“Thanks.”
We came upon Salinger’s table first on our left.
“Kill it,” I told him and started to walk away, but he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward him.
“You got this, Little. Do you hear me? You got this.”
I nodded my head and we bumped fists.
“See you in the skittles room,” he said.
I watched him take his seat across from a kid half his age. Neither of them greeted one another and that set me on edge for some reason. I took a deep breath and followed the rows of tables. Table number seven was on my right and my seat was closest to the deck wall. I sat down and stuffed my bag beneath my chair, then tucked my hands underneath my legs to keep them from shaking.
After a minute, an older man sat across from me. If he was surprised I was a girl, he didn’t show it. He didn’t greet me or make eye contact with me. Instead, he took off his thick glasses and cleaned the lenses with the bottom of his button-up shirt. He looked all around us and pointedly refused to look my direction. I looked around me and found this to be the norm. It all felt really strange to me.
When everyone had seemed to settle in, the officials settled randomly in the room amongst the tables. Everything Bernard had mentioned to me was happening in that instant. I faced my opponent and he faced me. The director, Charles, made a flourished announcement and the officials moved closer to the tables.
“Good luck,” the man said, still not making eye contact. The offer was perfunctory. He probably barely remembered having said it.
“Good luck,�
� I volleyed back.
The game moved quickly back and forth. We recorded our moves and the pieces seemed to move smoothly. I couldn’t believe I’d remembered everything Bernard had coached me on. The man made a move I decided was fatal and steered him a particular direction. He was casual and I felt like he was unaware, but I didn’t drop my guard. I wouldn’t until I had his queen.
And I got her.
“Good game,” he said and stood up, walking out of the hall.
I looked down at my board.
I won? I won!
I looked up and saw Salinger still at his board. He stared at his pieces. I picked up my bag to head toward the skittles room, but when I passed by him, he looked up. He raised his brows in question and I smiled at him. He winked at me, giving me butterflies, and I skittered past him. Instead of heading to the skittles room, though, like we’d agreed, I decided to head up into the observation deck to watch him finish his game.
There weren’t many people against the railing near him, so I leaned over. His long fingers moved fluidly over his pieces and I felt those butterflies fly into a frenzy. The game didn’t last long after I arrived. Salinger won. He smiled genuinely and told the boy he played well.
He stood and looked up at me, throwing his head the direction of the hall’s double doors. We walked together, him on the convention floor, me through the parallel observation deck. I raced down the stairs and met him outside the hall.
“How was it?” he asked.
“Really fun,” I told him and meant it. I smiled at him. “It was so much fun.”
“Right?” he asked. “It’s a rush.” He looked up and down the corridor. “Let’s find the skittles room.”
We found a sign that read Player’s Room and headed inside. There were all sorts of people running around. It was loud, so different from what I’d experienced in the tournament hall. Teenagers clumped together, older men napped, little kids chased each other around their talking parents.
“This is wild,” I told Salinger.
He smiled at me in answer. We found a bit of wall and slid down it.
“How long until the next round?” I asked.
He checked his phone. “Another hour or so?”
I nodded. I laid my backpack down and used it as a pillow.
“You’re too far away now,” he said and did the same. Placing his backpack directly next to mine and laying the opposite direction, our faces right next to one another.
“Too close?” he whispered.
“No,” I said but barely.
“Let’s talk about your next tournament,” he said.
“Okay.”
“There’s one I know of. It’s part of a big chess convention. The U.S. Open Invitational.”
“How big is the pot?”
“Fifty thousand dollars, Little.”
My mouth dropped. I blinked slowly, trying to process that kind of cash. “When?” I asked.
“Next Saturday.”
“Damn, that’s close.”
“I know.”
“Where?” I asked.
“Richmond, Virginia.”
“We couldn’t drive that far,” I observed.
“We’d have to fly, for sure.”
I smiled at him. “I guess one of us is going to have to win this thing?”
He smiled back. “I guess so.”
My phone indicated an email and I brought it out of my back pocket, up to my face. It was an email from Sylvia at Legal Aid. I sat up and opened my email.
Hello, Lily, I’m writing to let you know that we’ve got a court date next week, Tuesday, July 3rd, to address visitation. It would be a very good idea if you were there for this one to show good faith, present to the judge how well you’re doing, and show him how responsible you’ve become. Wear something conservative and respectful. Come clean and well rested.
Attached you’ll find the court details. Show up an hour before our scheduled time.
Let me know if you have any questions.
Hope to hear from you soon,
Sylvia
“What is it?” Salinger asked. I handed him my phone and he read Sylvia’s message. “This is good.”
My chest felt tight with gratitude. “I know.” I let out a slow, shaky breath. “I’m getting closer.”
Salinger smiled up at me and handed me my phone back.
We dominated the next five rounds. Salinger and I were in the final four. We’d been there for hours and we were both pretty exhausted. The skittles room was mostly empty. Most of the opponents who had lost in the previous rounds now joined family and friends in the observation decks.
We laid down for a few minutes, but it felt like as soon as we’d gotten comfortable, they called us back into the hall. The nerves I’d felt that morning came flooding back to me. The hall was full of people. There were two lone tables in the center of the hall and everyone crowded around them.
“Lily Hahn?” an official addressed me.
“Yes, sir?”
“Table one, seat one.”
“Thank you.”
I found my seat and dropped my bag on the floor then sat down, my body coursing with adrenaline.
“Peter Aurek?” the official asked a tall boy around my age. He had on dark, thick glasses and had a shaved head. He wasn’t anything like I’d expected.
Salinger had tried to point him out to me earlier in the day, but I’d only caught glimpses of him, and he didn’t ever come into the skittles room.
“Table two, seat one.”
He didn’t respond. Kept his gaze at the floor and sat down, staring only at the top of his board. He intimidated me. I whipped my head back Salinger’s way when the official announced his name.
“Table two, seat two,” he told him.
My heart started to race for Salinger’s sake. I watched him as he walked by. He gave me a side-eye and smiled at me. It was subtle and crooked and just a little bit sexy. He sat in front of Peter.
“Diego Hurtado?” the official asked the last opponent.
I recognized him from when he’d greeted Salinger in the morning, when we waited to register.
“Yes,” he said.
“Table one, seat two.”
Diego took the seat across from mine. He glanced Salinger’s way and nodded once in greeting. He turned toward me and smiled and nodded as well, but didn’t say anything.
“Ladies and gentlemen, these are our final four!” an official addressed the crowd. “We ask you remain as quiet as possible.” He turned toward the tournament officials standing near our boards. They each nodded at him. “Whenever you’re ready, gentlemen.” Salinger cleared his throat and the official glanced at me, his face turning pink. “And lady.”
“Good luck,” I told Diego.
“Good luck,” he returned.
And thus we began. Diego was a good player, but I was better. I made short work of our game and by the end, he couldn’t keep the look of shock off his face. When I took his queen, he smiled at me, a genuine smile, and stuck out his hand.
“Brilliant,” he told me. “You’re brilliant.”
I took his hand as my face heated. “Good game,” I hushed his way.
He leaned over the board. “What’s your name?” he whispered.
“Lily Hahn.” I told him.
“Good game, Lily.”
He stood up and walked from the hall with a small wave when he reached the exit. I waved back. Instead of following him out, I turned toward Peter and Salinger’s game. I watched them battle it out for several minutes. I was impressed Salinger held his own, though Aurek had a higher rating. That’s when I saw it, though, Salinger’s fatal mistake. I didn’t know if he’d seen it, but I knew Peter Aurek had.
In an additional twelve moves, Peter Aurek had defeated my poor Salinger. He sat back and looked up at Aurek when he stood.
“Good game,” Salinger said, standing up as well and offering a hand.
“Good game,” Peter returned, taking his hand.
<
br /> The official who’d made the previous announcement raised his hands when the crowd began to titter. I could feel their stares on the back of my neck.
“Ladies and gentlemen, our final match between Lily Hahn and Peter Aurek will commence at six o’clock this evening. We hope to see you all there.”
When he finished his announcement, Salinger ran over to me and picked me up.
“You did it, Little! You’re in the final two!”
I hugged his neck then pulled back. “I wish it could have been the two of us, though, instead.”
“Never would have happened,” he said, setting me down. He screwed his face up. “Did you see where I messed up?”
I smiled up at him and closed one eye. “A little.”
He playfully balled a fist and hit an open palm. “Damn it!” He laughed. “I knew what I’d done almost as soon as I did it, but I am improving.”
“I noticed that.”
“It’s because I’ve been practicing with you.”
I lightly punched his shoulder in answer, a little embarrassed by his praise.
“Let’s get something to eat and get ready for the final match. You hungry?”
“A little.”
We grabbed our bags and headed toward one of the casual restaurants nestled amongst the walls of the convention hall floor. We found a table and settled in, glancing at the menus a waitress had handed us. Salinger tapped his foot on the side of my leg and I looked up. He threw his head to his left and I glanced that direction. It was Peter Aurek. He sat with another guy, older than me, mid-twenties, I thought.
“Peter Aurek,” I said.
Salinger shook his head. “No, it’s the guy he’s sitting with.”
“Who is that?” I asked behind my menu.
“That, Lily, is last year’s National Chess Champion. Name’s Tao Zhang. He has the highest rating of any person alive today.”
I dropped my menu to study him.
“What is he doing here?”
“Not sure.”
“Why isn’t he competing?” I asked.
“Probably because he wouldn’t gain anything from it.”
“I see.”
“He’s friends with Peter?” I asked.
“I guess so.”
Salinger and I ordered a few sandwiches and a plate of fries between us then returned to the skittles room so I could relax, get out of my own head. I laid down and Salinger let me borrow his headphones. I closed my eyes and tried to calm my nerves. Before I knew it, they’d called for the final match.
IDLE: Book Four of The Seven Deadly Series Page 17
