Chapter One
The last bell of the day echoed its high pitched squeal through the halls of Central Glade High School. Tamara hung back, walking slowly, contemplating each step she took. Other students passed her in a collage of blurs. She didn't know where they were headed, but it had to be better than room five eighty five.
“It's only for two hours,” Amber said patting Tamara on the shoulder.
“You sure you don’t want to come with me?” Tamara said managing a small giggle.
“Positive!”
“Some BFF you are!”
Tamara wouldn’t be going to room five eighty five either if it was up to her, but the choice had been made for her. She rubbed her temples and then pinched the bridge of her nose.
“I’ll be with you in spirit,” Amber said and bumped her shoulder playfully.
“Ready?” Josh called out, waving to Amber.
“Almost!” Amber called back and turned to Tamara, “Sorry, we have tickets for a four-fifteen movie. If we don’t leave now we’ll miss the beginning.”
“Have fun,” Tamara said and leaned back against her locker.
“Thanks, call me tonight, okay? Like eight-ish?” Amber said, walking backwards away from her.
“Talk to you then.”
Tamara slung her backpack over her shoulder and headed for the stairs. Why was Chess Club held on the top floor? What sort of school made students walk up four flights of stairs to get to a classroom? Central Glade
School, that’s what school.
Step by step Tamara made her way up the staircases. Her feet moved as if she had a bag of bricks tied to either ankle. Her usually swift feet dug their heels into the ground and would not move. This time last Friday Tamara was sprinting off to volleyball practice.
“Time machine, please.”
Mrs. Bailey, the school’s only volleyball coach, broke her leg while rock climbing the previous weekend. After a few days of unsuccessful searching the school board had given up on finding a replacement and disbanded the team. Their decision left Tamara facing the possibility of losing her scholarship. Her father worked for a large law firm that offered a scholarship program to the children of their employees. To remain eligible for the funding Tamara had to remain active in at least one extracurricular activity all four years of her high school career.
The clause had meant very little to Tamara when she signed up with the program at the beginning of the previous school year, because she had planned to play volleyball throughout her high school career. Upon hearing the news of the team’s disbanding Tamara and her teammates had swarmed the principal’s office and even attended a PTA meeting. In the end, the girls were reluctantly forced to accept that volleyball was over for the year.
Not sure what new club or team she should join Tamara spent many hours talking it over with Amber, but almost a week later when she was still undecided her mother put her foot down: Tamara would be joining the Chess Club. The resulting argument had lasted three days, but in the end her mother won.
Tamara’s grandfather had been an expert chess player and Mrs. Kelly, the school’s English teacher and the sponsor of the Chess Club, had been her grandfather’s student. The team needed one more person in order to compete in an upcoming tournament.
“It solves everyone’s problem,” her mom told her.
“And it kills my social life. I’m never going to get a date to prom,” Tamara groaned.
“Prom’s not for another two years, young lady, you can worry about it when it’s closer. Right now you need to worry about your scholarship.”
Tamara took a deep breath and pushed the classroom’s heavy wooden door open. The room was expansive making Tamara wonder what teacher needed such space to teach. What the heck were they teaching? Her eyes darted around the room searching for Mrs. Kelly, but she hadn’t arrived yet.
“Hey, Tamara,” Greg waved to her.
Greg was the captain of the Chess Club who had spent most of freshman year flirting with Amber. It took Tamara months to convince Amber to tell him very bluntly that she was never going to date him.
“Hey, Greg,” Tamara said and sat down her backpack.
Across the room stood a large scale replica of a black knight piece with gleaming eyes that followed Tamara’s gaze as she tried to look away.
“That thing’s creepy!” she said rubbing her arms to rid herself of the goose bumps that were rising on her skin.
“Don’t insult, Sir Bedivere,” Greg laughed, “He’s our good luck charm. We owe him big time. He's the reason our team has never lost a tournament.”
“It’s a little big to carry around isn’t it?” Tamara laughed.