Checkmate

This is my first actual story, so please let me know what you think.

All characters are over 18 and fictional. If that makes any sense...

*

"Jack, what are you staring at?"

She was knew what I was doing. I was thinking. her childish attempts to distract me weren't going to work, but that had never stopped her from trying.

"The board's down here retard, and the birds aren't going to help you win."

"Like I need help...and its night time dumbass..." I muttered turning my head to the chess board.

I always stared out the window when I was thinking. It always seemed to relax me, help me see things more clearly. I looked again at the pieces scattered about the board. She was looked like she was winning from any point of view, and had taken most of my important pieces, as well as my pawns. But I had already won. She had left a subtle-yet-obvious gap in her defence. If I knew her like I thought I did, this was a "necessary risk", and not a trap. I laid my finger on my one remaining knight. I looked up into the face of my best friend. I could see it. She was smart, an amazing "strategist", but she never could lie properly. I sighed and leaned back. We were on the floor of her bedroom, and I had my back against her bed. I looked around for a while, taking in the familiar surroundings. I knew her room almost as well as I knew my own.

We had been best friends for years, kind of hard not to be, growing up with each other like we had. We weren't exactly neighbours, but only lived a few blocks apart, and our moms were really good friends.

I closed my eyes and looked thoughtful, resting my head between my hands and laying back on them

"Giving up?" she goaded, but I could hear the tremor in her voice. She wasn't sure if I had seen her mistake, and was trying to trick me with false confidence. I didn't even open my eyes. I just reached out, and moved my piece into position, and lay my head back again.

"Checkmate"

"Dammit! How did you see that?"

I opened my eyes and smiled.

"You're too easy"

She glared at me. I dint know which face was more familiar, this, bright large eyes open wide and full lips in a classic pout, or the smug, thin lipped, victorious look she had half the time.

"I mean, you had me on the run there for a bit..."

"I was kicking your ass!"

"And yet..." I gestured towards the board.

She turned her head away with a disgusted look on her face. I smiled and stretched. The instant our eyes met, the game was forgotten, and she smiled at me. I had always been like that. We had always been competitive with each other, but no matter how bad the insult, or humiliating the defeat, it was always forgotten just like that.

"Ugh, I'm bored now" she complained.

"Yeah, I imagine repeatedly and consistently getting your ass handed to you gets a bit boring after 18 years." I said smirking

"Huh, you got lucky, or have you forgotten my three consecutive backgammon wins yesterday?"

"Yeah I let you have those, I felt sorry for your crushing poker defeat the day before"

"Hmm...we play a lot of crap don't we..." she remarked thoughtfully

"Yeah we need to get like, a T.V. or something."

"Or like...a puppy..." she trailed off

"A puppy?" I asked "You couldn't look after a puppy, you can't even look after yourself"

"Oh please can we?" she begged "I'll feed it and clean and look after it and everything!"

"Yes, for about 2 days, and then it will be dead, just like your fish...and your snake....and that one thing, the weasel or whatever." I mocked

"It was a ferret, and how was I supposed to know it needed food every day?" she asked laughing.

"Yeah...so what now?"

"Dunno...thirsty?" she asked standing up.

"Hungry actually, could you make me a sandwich or something?"

She rolled her eyes, smiling, and turned towards the door.

" You're gonna have to learn to fend for yourself someday you know." She said closing the door behind her.

I sat up onto her bed and lay back against her pillows. I was on her side of the bed, which was a little strange. When we watched movies or whatever together, I was always on the side with the window, whereas now I was closer to the door. I tried to make myself more comfortable by putting my hand under the pillow to support my head better, but when I did I felt something. I pulled it out and sat up. It was a quite thick but short, leather bound book. More specifically, a diary. More specifically, Katie's diary. I was a little surprised she even had one. Without really thinking I flipped it open. On the inside cover, scrawled in childish crayon was

Katie's Diary

I started off at the earlier parts.

First page:

"I had a great birthday today got loads of neat stuff and this book"

Weird..."neat"?...she must have only been 8 or 9 when she got this. Flicked forward some more, a few pages:

"Jack says I should put the date in my diary, so here it is"

followed by the date.

This was about ten years ago, so she would have been about eight. Weird, I couldn't remember ever talking about a diary. I flicked to about three quarters of the way through, until I got to the blank parts, then I backtracked until I got to where they started. The date on this one was only a few nights ago.

"I had another dream about him last night. I came so hard this time. I feel like I'm going crazy"

Whoa. I had to re-read this a few times before I really got it. She was having sexy dreams about someone? That was so...confusing. we hadn't really talked much about guy or girls we liked before, but "again"? If she liked this guy so much, why wouldn't she tell me, especially if she was so worried?

I flicked back a few pages. I noticed she had an irregular way of entries, some were a few lines, full weeks taking up a single page, and some were almost like essays. There were noticeable jumps too. I guess she only wrote things she thought were important.

I skipped back a bunch of pages, I think it was a few months, I didn't check the date.

"I wonder what Jack would say if he knew how I felt."

Wait...Jack? As in me, Jack? she was having dreams about me? Before I could even begin to process this, I heard her footsteps coming up the stairs. I didn't know what to do. I froze. I couldn't let her know that I'd read this. I didn't know what to think yet.

But if her weakness was her inability to bluff, then mine was the inability to work under sudden pressure. Still, thinking quickly, I flicked back to near the front and tried to look amused as she walked in the door. As soon as she saw me she froze. She let out a small gasp.

I read aloud:

"Today I got extra homework cuz Jack made me laugh, I hate him"

I actually remembered this day. She had been so pissed off, considering she had started it.

"Wow", I said, "you know, you were a really whiney 9 year old" I looked round and smiled at her

She looked horrified

"What are you doing? Gimme that!" she dropped the plate of sandwiches on the floor in her haste to get to me. She grabbed desperately at the book, but I held it away from her, playing with her a little.

"Stop it, just GIMME IT!" she screamed. I gave the book to her quickly and she clutched to her chest, like I was gonna try and get it back.

"Jeez, calm down!" I said smiling. I was getting nervous. She was nearly crying, and she was looking at me. She was staring at the ground with her long black hair covering her face.

"What's the big deal? it's not like I don't already know everything about you" I joked. I changed my tone so I sounded more serious.

"What's so bad in there that I can't see?" I asked. She just shook her head and half whispered

"I'm sorry.."

"But I thought we told each other everything..." I said dejectedly. She just shook her head again.

I sighed. "fine then..."

"Maybe you should just leave..." she said quietly.

"Fine. See ya around" I stood up and left quickly.

My mind was blank as I walked down the street, but when I got home, my thoughts felt like a hurricane. She liked me? She had dreams about me? She masturbated... thinking of me? Was it even me? There were lots of guy called Jack in our school. I was only one of two in my class alone. Was it him? Why wouldn't she tell me? Why didn't she tell me? What was she afraid of? Was she ashamed? What else could it be?

Rejection...obviously. But...would I reject her? This opened up a whole new line of thoughts.

I thought hard about her, bringing her image into my head. I mustered as much detail as I could, which was quite a bit. Her smooth, white skin, always pale, no matter how hard she tried to tan. Her flowing dark hair, her full lips and bright smile. Her dark brown almost black eyes, slightly too large for her face, giving her a very cute look. Her long delicate fingers, her thin pale arms. I thought more and more, bringing together everything I could remember. Her body. About 5'5 ,large C cup breasts, which I knew from checking one of her bras when she wasn't looking. Her slim waste and round hips. I pictured her face again, only differently this time, a memory. She was looking down slightly, avoiding my eyes. She was biting her lip, smiling. She was so nervous. When was this?

I remembered. The night of the "Fall Ball" the first real dance we were allowed to go to. We had gone together, as friends obviously. It was kind of a big deal, but I never really got it before. Even when we slow danced together, I still didn't feel any different about her. I had an image of her pushing her face into my chest and sighing. It was only when I remembered this, this time, and her face, and everything about her when I realised how truly beautiful she was. I opened my eyes and fell back against my bed. Did I like her like she liked me? How, exactly, did she liked me? Was it even me?

I stood up and opened my wardrobe door, looking at myself in the full length mirror. I was pretty tall, about 6'1 and had short black hair. My eyes were bright blue, my skin clear and my teeth shiny and white. I took my shirt off and looked at my naked torso. My arms were a little thin, but I had real muscle from when I took some self defence classes with my mom. I had started some light weight training, and kept it up, because it helped me burn excess energy. It had even come in handy once. I had some light muscle definition around my stomach, and if I tensed, you could see my abs clearly. I wasn't exactly drop dead gorgeous, but I didn't think I looked that bad...

Did she really like me that way? Could she? I didn't have much self esteem issues, but I'd always considered myself kind of...plain.

What was I thinking about? If she really did like me, I wasn't because of my looks. If she did like me...

The main question I kept coming back to that night was whether or not I liked her. She was almost like a sister to me. She was the closest thing I had to a sibling.

I sighed deeply and walked over to my window. The light was off, and the moon was barely there. I could see the stars unusually clearly tonight. I just thought. No, I planned. That was what I needed, a plan. A strategy. What does a strategy need? A purpose. I already knew what I needed to find out. One, was it me she had been writing about. Two, how deep were her feelings. Was it just a sex thing or more...emotional. how I felt wasn't important. I knew that if I let my feelings, or lack thereof, get in the way, I would never really know the truth. It was time to win. The Game, if you'll pardon the cliché, was on.

I met her the next day in the usual place. The bus stop near her house where we got the bus to school. It was Monday morning, and the air felt unseasonably cold considering the bright summer sun. I was there earlier than usual. I felt so nervous. I knew from now on, basically everything I did with her from now on would have to be an act. My throat caught as I saw her walking nervously towards me. She really was beautiful, how had I never noticed before? She was wearing dark jeans and a plain blue t-shirt, and her dark hair was styled in the usual way, one eye partly covered by her fringe.

As she approached, I gave her a reassuring smile, which she almost shyly returned.

"So...hi," I said when she got close to me

"You're here...early" she replied

"Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about last night" said turning to face her.

"Oh..." her face fell slightly and she opened her mouth to talk, but I cut in before she could say anything.

" I wanted to say I'm sorry. I should have respected your privacy better, and I know you don't have to tell me everything. You're my best friend, and I shouldn't have acted the way I did"

She smiled a little.

"That was unusually formal." she said

"Yeah, it doesn't suit me, right?" I said smiling. She gave a little laugh, but stayed silent. I stepped closer to her.

"So... we good?" I asked

"Yeah," she said, her smile getting wider, "we're always good, remember?"

I was very relieved, and I started to feel guilty about my upcoming plan, but I pushed my feelings back. I had to know what she was really feeling.

I waited a few days before the "First Move". It was hard, I so wanted to ask her about this. But what if it wasn't me in the diary? Or what if she wanted to know how I felt? I didn't even know...

So anyway it was Thursday, and we were talking on the bus home from school. She had just said something funny, and we were laughing. I turned to her suddenly.

"You know what? You should stay over tomorrow night."

"Wow, a sleepover, it's been ages since we've had one." She said wistfully

Our sleepovers had always been great. We'd stay up for ages and watch movies or play games, but it was true it had been months since our last.

"So you up for it?" I asked

"Sure, sounds like fun" she answered.

That was the First Move. Well, not really but it was like the beginning of the First Move, or something. Anyway, it was Friday night, and we were in her room again. It was about 8:30, so she suggested we get moving. Thankfully, we got out of the door without her realising what I'd done. Id brought a book over, and had been reading it while she finished her homework. I was going to wait until she went to the bathroom to plant it somewhere, but I didn't get a chance. I didn't question it, but she seemed reluctant to leave me alone in the room. The reason was obvious, which is what the book was for. I managed to inconspicuously drop it under her bed while she set up the chess board. I know, right? Two 18 year olds spending their Friday nights playing chess, we were a couple of party animals.

Anyway, we were on my bed watching a movie. I waited about an hour after the beginning. I put my hand up to my forehead and groaned.

"What's up?" she asked turning towards me.

"I knew I'd forgotten something. I just remembered I left my book in your room!" I said annoyed.

I moved towards the edge of the bed and stood up.

"You're not going to get it now are you?" she asked

"I need to. It's from the library and needs to be back tomorrow. I was going to finish it tonight" This was actually true " But you made me stop to play your fucking chess." I continued smiling.

"No, I'll go get it." She said moving to get up.

"Don't be stupid, just wait here." I said

She looked she was going to argue, but I already had my shoes on.

"Look I'll be a couple of minutes, you just keep watching. Now where did I leave it...?" I asked myself as I left.

As soon as I got outside, I had to stop myself from running to her house. I knew if I was too long she'd suspect something, so I did walk quicker. Her parents were watching TV when I called, and were happy to see me, if a little confused. They always were. Happy, I mean, not confused. I just told them I'd forgotten something and I rushed upstairs.

I quickly scanned her room. I had spent all night thinking of where it could be. I knew it wouldn't be in the same place, so didn't bother checking. I started to try and think like her. Where would she hide it? I knew what I would do. Pry up a floorboard under the bed and cover it with extra carpet. Practical, if a little extreme, and effective. But she wasn't like me. She would have spent ages thinking of a suitable place. Somewhere unexpected and clever, assuming she was expecting someone to look for it. I glanced at the bookshelf, and almost immediately found myself falling into a mental loop.

"No, it's too obvious. A book on a bookshelf. But, exactly, he wouldn't look because it's too obvious. But what if he sees that coming, and looks in the place he's least likely to look because of its likelihood? But what if sees that coming, and doesn't look there because he knew I would think that..." and so on.

But luckily, I wasn't the one hiding it, so I walked over and immediately started running my hand over her books. She had quite a lot, more than me anyway, so I couldn't see a difference just by looking. If she were to take this "necessary risk", she would at least keep it out of obvious sight.

Assuming that the searching reads in the English format, top to bottom, left to right, then the bottom left is logically the last place they'd look. I ran through the last couple, but they were just normal novels. Ugh, who gives a kid such a random present anyway. It was hard backed and leather, so it would blend in with all her other weird books, and I couldn't remember what the spine looked like. Hmm... bottom left was also too predictable, but I still thought this area was close. On an impulse, I checked the middle of the second row from the bottom.

I almost shouted for joy. It was in between two books similar to it, to disguise it, but I'd actually chosen the right book. I'd only been up here for a minute and a half, but that was a little too long for just to quickly grab something. I flicked to about the area I'd been before, where I saw my name but I couldn't find the right page. I was only reading the first couple of words of each line. I kept skipping through the pages. I finally got to a close enough date, but no sign of me on either of the pages. I went back a little. I knew the date had been about two months ago, but I wasn't sure exactly what it was. I wasted two minutes skipping through pages frantically, aware of the time pressure. Her mom might come at any second to see what was keeping me.

I found something interesting eventually though:

"I think I had a wet dream last night. I didn't even know girls could. I don't remember it, but when I woke up, I felt like I'd just cum and my bed was wet"

Next night:

"Another dream like last night. It was a little clearer when I woke up. I remember a face or something."

A few days:

"Jack was in my dream last night, and I woke up horny. Feeling strange"

A few pages went without much mention of me, just normal stuff, then:

"I keep having dreams about Jack. I don't know what to do."

Later:

"I can't stop thinking about him"

More:

"I had such a strange about Him again. Just see his face. I came when I woke up"

After this there was a gap of about two weeks, then two sentences dated about a month and a half apart, the biggest break I'd seen. But it wasn't the date I was really interested in:

"I think I love him."

Followed by:

"I know I love him"

Holy shit. Love? She loved me? I quickly flicked back to where I has finished last time.

There was one new entry:

"I don't what I would've done if Jack had found out. What would he do? What would he say? If he didn't love me, I don't know what I'd do."

My heart was racing. I could hear my pulse in my ears I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Once again, my thoughts were interrupted by footsteps coming up the stairs. I quickly but carefully put the book back, then leaped across the room and stuck my head under the bed. Just as I did Katie's mom walked in.