Checkmate

By Melodee Stromotich, Grade 11, Alcuin College

“Hi!” a blonde girl says, golden curls bouncing as she sits down. She extends her

perfectly manicured hand over the chessboard. “I’m Jodie.”

“Hi,” Alex responds, taking her hand. “Alex.”

And that’s it.

She’s back the next day. And the day after that. Before Alex knows it, she’s found herself

a consistent chess partner. She’s the first person she’s met who’s provided a challenge.

Jodie is loud, and bright, and wears too much perfume. She never has any chapstick, yet

her lips are always pink and glossed. Jodie tells her she joined the chess club through her cousin, Joe, who Alex is friends with.

Jodie almost always wins the games, and Alex is wonderfully obsessed with the new

competition.

Everything about Jodie is new and thrilling. Alex is enchanted by her.

“I won’t be here tomorrow.”

Alex looks up. “Oh?”

The clock ticks.

“Mm-hmm,” she hums.

Her knight ruthlessly kills Alex’s bishop.

“Where are you going?”

“Ireland.”

“Hmmm.” Alex feels oddly sad by this, for a girl she hardly knows. “Sounds boring.”

“It’s the land of fairies.”

“Weird.”

Jodie laughs, the sound bright like windchimes, “I’ll set up a chess game for us online.”

Alex nods.

Online chess is fine. It’s the same game. Just longer. She can only make her moves

between classes, so single games can last for days.

Turns out, Jodie isn’t very good at online chess. It’s odd.

Alex misses her.

School is boring. Eventually, the wet and shivery winter shifts back into a glowing

summer. Jodie starts winning games again.

Without warning, Jodie returns.

“Hi,” she greets, sitting in the opposite chair. Her hair is bright, blinding. Her skin is

tanned. She’s golden and warm. Sunlight incarnate.

“Hi,” Alex responds. Her lips want to tug up into a smile, for some odd reason.

“I brought you this.” Jodie hands a small book over the table. The air sifts and the breeze

brings the smell of honey and flowers.

The cover shows an illustrated image of some mythical creature. Rows and rows of

rotten, crooked teeth and ugly, acne covered skin. “It’s a book about fairies.”

“Thanks.”

The summer air gradually picks up a chill, and the wind must sweep Jodie away with the

warmth, because she disappears once the school year starts.

Alex reads the book. She learns about fairies enchanting humans. Luring them away from

home and eating them whole. She learns they’re ugly, evil creatures.

In passing, she asks Joe about his cousin.

“I don’t have a cousin.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t. I’d know if I did.”

“Your cousin, Jodie.”

Joe blinks. “Are you trying to gaslight me?”

“No!”

“I don’t have a cousin named Jodie. I don’t even know anyone named Jodie.”

That makes absolutely no sense.

At chess club, she asks the organizer if she knows if Jodie is coming back. The

conversation follows a similar pattern.

The chess games continue, but online. Alex wonders who’s on the other end of the

screen.

Once the flowers come back, plugging Alex’s nose with snot and pollen, Jodie starts

winning the games again.

School lets out. Summer starts. Chess continues.

“Hi,” Jodie says. Her hair is longer. Her skin is immaculate.

“Hi,” Alex says, and suddenly can’t remember any of her burning questions.

At the end of the summer, Jodie invites Alex to her house. It’s the first time Jodie has

offered to spend time with her outside of the club.

Alex goes, heart pounding and grinning wide.

Jodie spends the summer in a cabin in the woods nearby. Alex hikes her way through the

underbrush, sweat clinging to her skin.

The heat doesn’t affect Jodie. The farther in the woods they go, the more she seems to

come alive.

“Did you read that book I gave you?”

“Yeah. It was weird.”

Jodie hums. “I find human interpretations of fairies very interesting.”

Jodie turns, her golden curls sunlight itself. Skin flushed with life and devoid of a single

blemish. “What do you think?”

Alex looks up at her, and feels the other girl's breath fan her face. She’s so close. Alex

thinks she can feel her skin buzz, and Jodie’s hum in response.

“They’re dangerous.”

Jodie tips her head forward. Alex can feel their noses graze. “What else?”

“They’re ugly.”

White pointed teeth curl over pink, plump lips in a smile. Tipping closer... closer... “Are

they?”

No, Alex thinks. Her last and final thought, they are dangerously beautiful.