Idle (The Seven Deadly #4)

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.