Unplayed: The Queen's Checkmate

The moment I said yes, laughter nearly tore the roof off.

The man who had chased me for six months turned around and took another girl's hand. "Chelsea, I won," he announced, grinning. "So now it's your turn to say yes to me, right?" She shot me one taunting look and kissed him.

I covered my face and sobbed. Right on cue. Under all that roaring laughter, nobody noticed my hand sliding into the corner, closing around the hidden phone.

The HD lens had caught every second of that scumbagandsnake performance. By morning, one video owned the campus confessions page, the forums, the hashtag threads.

All of it… Chapter 1 Dorian Wells had never spoken a single word to me. Then one day he tossed me a "hey" out of nowhere, and I just stood there, too stunned to answer.

Dorian was the department's certified heartthrob. Great face, rich family, student body president, more admirers than he could count. Golden boy, and he knew it.

Proud enough to look straight through people. Every student government meeting, he swept in like royalty and chewed out the underclassmen. His circle was small and sealed tight.

The department had one famous sight: Dorian and his friends. They traveled as a set: four guys, two girls.

The guys were hot, the girls were gorgeous, and they moved through campus rolling like an entourage. Nobody got in. Nobody left. The four guys were Dorian and his roommates.

The two girls were Chelsea Vaughn and Chelsea's bestie. Except for the bestie, all five of them were not just in our department. They were in my cohort. Same classes as me.

After he walked off, my roommate grabbed my sleeve and squealed under her breath. "Oh my god. Sera. Tell me I didn't imagine that.

Did Dorian Wells just say hi to you?" I nodded, still dazed. "I think… he did." I figured it was a oneoff. A whim. Except after that, he said hi every single time we crossed paths.

Then he sat next to me in class. The seats around him were reserved for his friends. Everyone knew that.

So when he dropped into the chair beside mine, I did the smart thing and grabbed my bag to move. He caught my wrist and looked up at me. "Stay.

There's nowhere else to sit anyway." I checked. The back row had space. But my eyes are a little weak and I don't wear glasses, so I sat back down.

Chelsea, front row, turned to look at him. Then she smiled at me. Creepy. Since when was everyone this warm?

During the lecture he leaned in close, eyes on my notebook. "Your handwriting is really pretty." "Ha. Thanks." I scooted toward the other side. His low laugh followed me.

After class, my roommate and I went out for boba. Dorian's whole crew swarmed in right behind us, and every student outside the shop turned to stare. They had that effect.

I pulled out my phone and told the owner, "One medium boba, hot, please." When I went to tap and pay, Dorian's hand covered the reader.

He smiled down at me. "My treat." Then he turned to my roommate. "What are you having? I've got it." Her whole face went red. "Taro milk tea.

Thank you!" I moved to stop him. "No, really. I'll pay for mine." The corner of his mouth curled, all friendly. "It's one drink.

You don't have to fight me this hard." The line behind us kept growing. I let it go. The second we had our drinks, I grabbed my roommate and got out of there.

Nobody's that nice unless they want something. Chapter 2 That night, Dorian added me through the program group chat.

His friend request said: "Class rep, I need to ask you something." Probably about the project groups from a couple days ago. I accepted.

Being the responsible type, I texted first: "Hi, what did you need?" It read a little stiff, so I added a cute waving GIF. Friendlier that way.

Ten minutes later, he replied: "So I can't add you unless I need something?" My days were packed. No actual business meant no reason to chat.

I shut off my phone and started on the group project. Then my phone wouldn't stop buzzing. Almost every message was Dorian. "About the groups.

I want to switch." I'd put his whole clique in one group on purpose, out of mercy for everyone else.

The day we picked groups, I'd even asked: anyone who wants to change, work it out yourselves and let me know. Nobody said a word. The list was already with the professor.

Now he wanted to switch. I couldn't exactly refuse him. "Switch how?" "I want to move to your group." Uh. Didn't that count as betraying his friends?

I shook it off and typed: "Our group is full. If you want in, you'll need someone willing to trade. Find a volunteer and I'll ask the professor." "Already did.

Todd's willing." Honestly? I didn't want him. With Dorian around, the rest of us would never relax. But someone had agreed to trade, and the professor signed off.

I had no grounds to block it. I updated the list. Todd had been assigned the presentation. With him gone, that job fell to Dorian. I texted to ask if he was okay with it.

He agreed, no pushback at all. "I'll send you the slides. If anything's unclear, just ask me." He replied: "No class tomorrow, it's Saturday.

Let's meet somewhere and I'll do a practice run. Texting back and forth is slow." Fair point. "Okay. The café by the campus gate? Does that work?" "Nine a.m.

Good?" "Good." The next morning I got there ten minutes early, set up my laptop in an upstairs booth, and waited. Then I saw him walk in with his entire crew behind him.

I felt a headache coming on. Chelsea waved at me, smiling. "Hi!" I smiled back, then looked at my laptop screen. They took the booth next to ours. The partition was thin.

Every word came through. Movie plans for Sunday. Laughing, talking over each other. Impossible to tune out. Not that I minded for myself. I was worried it would throw Dorian off.

It didn't. He came prepared. He had nearly everything down cold and could run the whole talk without notes. I clapped, honestly impressed. "You're really good.

Todd dragged it out a whole week and never got through it once." He smiled. "If I flopped, I'd be letting you down, wouldn't I?" I laughed. It came out thinner than I meant it to.

Chapter 3 The practice run took all of ten minutes. I packed up my laptop, ready to head back to the dorm, but he insisted on treating me to dinner.

The two girls pushed and pulled until I caved. They picked a hibachi place. I stuck out like a sore thumb.

I trailed at the back of the group, feet dragging, texting my roommate a running rant while my soul howled in private. At some point Elliott Rhodes fell in step beside me.

His voice was flat. "If you don't want to go, just say no. Why torture yourself?" I killed my phone screen and shot him a guilty look. "What? Someone's buying me dinner.

I'm thrilled to be here." He said nothing. Just walked beside me, unhurried. Then, after a while: "You're not one of us.

Get too close, and people will only get sick of you." I understood the jab, and the wall behind it. But I'm an easygoing person.

As long as he didn't get personal, he could say whatever he wanted. We all put our pants on one leg at a time. Nobody's better than anybody.

At dinner, all their attention landed on me. It looked like kindness. It tasted like charity, as if this meal were a favor they were graciously handing down. Whatever.

Eat up, dust off, walk away. Back at the dorm, I Venmoed Dorian my share. He sent it right back, and he sounded annoyed. "What is this?" "You have your social graces.

I have my rules. If you won't take it, I'll have to pull you from the presentation." A few minutes later, he accepted the money. Then: "Are you free tomorrow?

We're going to a movie. Come with us." "Sorry. I'm busy tomorrow." He didn't reply after that. I closed the chat, and that's when I heard my roommate pounding her mattress.

I climbed up to her bunk. "What happened? Who hurt you?" Katie lay there in a sheet mask, wailing. "Sera, I can't beat him. Help me." One look and I had it.

A game had done this to her. She peeled off the mask, close to angry tears. "I killed the other team's Healer once. ONCE. And their Blade has been hunting me ever since.

How was I supposed to know that's his girlfriend?" I checked her match stats. Brutal. Her power rating sat at ten percent, lower than the enemy Healer's. She'd already died twice.

One more death and she was out of the match for good. She shoved the phone into my hands. "Sera. Please." Katie had joined a fivestack through matchmaking.

They had one slot open, so she hopped in. She just hadn't expected her own team to turn on her. Everyone in the squad except the Blade was typing away, trashing her.

Katie was playing badly and didn't dare fire back. Well. They'd officially woken up my competitive streak. I took Katie's phone and started clawing the game back.

Even after I dragged her stats out of the gutter, the team kept at it. Now I was a killstealer, apparently. A laugh escaped me. Cold. A team like this didn't deserve to win.

So I started leaving openings on purpose. Feeding the enemy everything I had. The Blade saw exactly what I was doing. He sent a consoling message: "Bro, keep playing for real.

Next match I'll duo with you. We'll get your revenge." I typed back, seething: "You don't deserve to win!" Chapter 4 We lost the match. I felt fantastic.

To make up for the rank Katie had dropped, I let her log into my alt account and played a few rounds with her. Right as we queued up, a friend request popped in.

Our Blade, of all people. He offered to carry Katie for a match. Call it an apology on behalf of the team. Katie approved, so I added him and pulled him into the lobby.

Three straight wins later, I handed the account back to Katie and let her keep playing with him. I logged off. Katie logged off right after me.

The Blade wanted to add her, she said. Wanted to carry her longterm, too. I gave her my best evil grin. "And you said yes?" She ducked her head. "Oh stop.

He just wants help climbing ranks, that's all." I turned back to my readings and let her have it her way. Presentation day. Dorian didn't show.

Ten minutes into class, he texted: he wasn't feeling well, he'd gotten excused.

I swallowed the urge to curse him out and sent back a smiley face. "Get some rest, then." He sent a guiltyface GIF. "I'm sorry.

I thought I could make it, but the second I reached the building I got dizzy. Had to go to the campus health center." The group chat blew up. Everyone panicking, asking what now.

And not one of them dared to say a word against Dorian. I texted the group: "Don't worry. I'll present." Good thing I'd made the slides myself. I could handle it.

Dorian, in the chat: "Are you sure you can?" "I'm sure. Don't worry." Please. I've stared down worse than a class presentation. Piece of cake.

Walking up to the podium, I happened to catch Chelsea's eye. Something in her look was off. Like she'd settled in to watch a show. I couldn't make sense of it.

I ran our group's presentation without a single stumble. The room broke into applause, everyone clapping except Chelsea, who stared at me like I'd stolen something from her.

Two days ago she was all smiles. Now I owed her money, apparently. The professor liked me, and she praised our group warmly.

The group chat exploded with confetti GIFs. "Our leader is a legend." "We got praised!

Does this mean a bump on the participation grade?" Dorian sent three question marks. "What's going on?" Someone had recorded me and dropped the video in the chat. "New rule: everyone performs to our leader's standard now." Dorian chimed right in: "Amazing.

Thank god you were there, or I'd never forgive myself @Sera." I played humble and Venmoed the group boba money: twentyfive bucks, five people, one drink each. Dorian sent fifty.

An apology, he said. He did seem genuinely guilty, so I threw him a bone. "It's fine. It was one presentation. It's not like you did it on purpose." Case closed.

I dissolved the project group chat. To thank me for covering, Dorian bought me boba. The largest size they had. "Thanks." He grinned. "Stop being so polite.

It's like we're strangers." We kind of are, I muttered inwardly. There was a concert on the quad that night. Dorian dragged me along.

His roommate's band was playing, and he had to show support. The only person from our cohort in that band was Elliott Rhodes. Chapter 5 He was the lead singer.

That raspy voice had earned him a real following, and with a face like his, he counted as a campus celebrity all on his own. Chelsea and her bestie had spots in the inner circle.

We couldn't get in, so we watched from the edge of the crowd. Elliott was singing a folk song. Smoke and gravel on a slow melody. If that didn't put a spell on you, nothing would.

He wasn't easy to get close to, but the talent was real. He didn't just sing. He wrote his own songs.

All across the quad, students raised their phone flashlights and swayed them to his voice. Dorian grabbed my hand and lifted it, swaying along.

I pulled my hand free. "You enjoy the show," I said, stiff. "I'm going to find my roommate." Away from the crowd, I dug a wet wipe out of my bag and cleaned the hand he'd grabbed.

The rumor started drifting through the cohort soon after: Dorian Wells was chasing me. I played deaf and tuned the whispers out.

Then Dorian sat down beside me and set a box of chocolates in front of me. "Do you believe it?" he asked. "Believe what?" I didn't look up. My eyes were on my book. My mind wasn't.

He watched me, and his voice went serious. "The thing about me liking you." I gritted my teeth and looked up at him. "It's a rumor.

What's there to believe?" He held my gaze and smiled a little. "I believe it." "Huh?" The word jumped out of me. He gave a wry laugh. "They've got it right.

I like you." He didn't say it quietly. Every row around us heard it, and the gasps came rolling in, one wave after another. The professor walked in and saved me from the moment.

I'd never dated anyone. But I knew what liking someone looked like. Whatever Dorian was doing, it wasn't that. It looked deliberate. Rehearsed. Flattery with a plan behind it.

In his eyes, at least, I couldn't find one trace of it. Once he'd hammered the rumor into fact with his own mouth, the fullcourt press began.

I turned him down, clearly and more than once. He didn't quit. Fine. Chase away. Just stay out of the way of my grades.

To everyone else, Dorian was hopelessly gone for me, the marryherornoone type. To me, it looked like a rich boy's passing itch. He wanted to stir me up and watch what happened.

He gave me the latest designer handbag. I Venmoed him the full price. He wouldn't accept it. So I blocked him. Out of moves, he called me. "Unblock me.

I'll take the money, okay?" I didn't even like the bag. So I returned the bag instead and kept my money. "I don't like owing people.

But if I pay you for that thing, my whole allowance is gone. Take it back." He went blank. For a long moment he couldn't produce a single word.

While he stood there rebooting, I turned and left. His pursuit felt like an assignment. No matter how many times I refused him, he didn't care. It never even dented his mood.

Then one night he appeared at the foot of my dorm, blocking my path as I came back from the library. His nose was red from the cold. A film of mist clung to his lashes.

My brows pulled together. "You're frozen stiff.

What were you thinking?" "Waiting for you." He smiled, and brought a bouquet out from behind his back. "Happy birthday." Chapter 6 I looked at the roses and didn't take them. "How long have you been standing here?" I asked instead.

He tucked his chin deeper into his scarf. "Almost an hour." "Go back.

You'll catch a cold." He pushed the flowers into my arms anyway, then gave an awkward little laugh. "Sera, I bought you a birthday cake, but I couldn't reach you, so I came here to wait.

I owe you the cake till your next birthday." "Thank you. But I don't do birthdays." My soft no rolled right off him.

He just nodded. "Got it." After he left, I stared down at the flowers in my arms and sighed. Back in the room, Katie needed me again.

Her Blade, the gaming god himself, had started to suspect her. He didn't think she was the same Mage as before. He'd asked her, point blank, if she'd hired a booster.

To keep riding her gaming god's coattails, Katie begged me to play for her again. So I played.

Katie mained Healer, and to keep the peace with the rest of the squad, I picked Healer too. Five minutes in, the Blade messaged ingame: stay back, just keep me healed.

I was used to playing Blade. My hands itched to push forward. A Healer hits like a pillow, and it was killing me.

He took first blood off the enemy Healer and told me to grab the loot. I grabbed it. Instead of crafting healing potions, I crafted an attack item.

Three question marks floated up over his head. I typed: "Potions heal too slow." Mostly, they had no bite. I couldn't stand watching.

The Mage cut in: "Healing that way burns thirty percent of your own health bar.

Too risky." I typed back: "It also burns five percent of theirs." The Blade walked back to spawn and just stood there.

A beat later, a text popped up on Katie's phone: "Did you hire a booster?" I replied: "No?" He wrote: "This doesn't feel like your usual style." I wrote: "My usual style is playing helpless so I have an excuse to cozy up to a gaming god." Katie read the message over my shoulder and nearly died on the spot.

She grabbed my arm. Unsend it. UNSEND IT. I unsent it. Odds were he'd already seen. A teammate asked in the squad chat: "Healer, are you a girl?" I replied: "Nope.

Dude." The Blade's DM came right back: "Last time you were on mic, you sounded like a girl. A sweet one, too. Voice changer?" I turned to look at Katie.

She gave a sheepish little laugh. "I maybe put on a tiny bit of baby voice." The match ended, and he said I'd played well today. Like a whole different player. I typed: "No way.

All credit to your coaching, oh great one." I played Mage for the next two rounds. When we finished, his message came again, ingame: was I a booster or not? "Nope.

My hands work sometimes and don't work other times. Today they worked." "Huh. Is that so." That one landed a little too close to home. I stopped replying.

Chapter 7 For the last match, the Blade pulled in the same two teammates who'd trashtalked Katie before. Four in the squad. One slot open.

The second I logged in, Katie pulled me into the fivestack. Time to teach those two noobs some manners. The match loaded. And the two noobs actually hopped on mic.

Katie and I looked at each other. That voice. Why did we know that voice?

My roommate's eyes went wide. "Is that Chelsea Vaughn?" Katie and I stayed off mic, listening to the two girls talk. By the end there was no doubt left. Chelsea and her bestie.

The two of them didn't even know how to upgrade their gear. They ran straight into a fight, died once, fed once, and then started taking it out on Katie.

Chelsea's voice came through first. "Healer, are you dead over there? Ever heard of healing?" I typed back for Katie: "Ah.

The mighty roar of the helpless noob." I whittled the two enemy heroes down to slivers of health. I didn't finish them. Then I messaged Katie in squad chat: "Healer, get over here.

Two enemies at low HP.

Kills are yours." Ten minutes into the match, Chelsea and her bestie had already stolen my kills several times, and botched every single one, letting the enemy slip away. Fine.

This time I'd let them steal properly. They'd both died twice. One more death and they'd be corpses for good.

Even at a sliver of health, those two enemy heroes could still turn around and kill a pair of noobs. Katie played along in squad chat: "Coming!

Wait for me!" Chelsea and her bestie came running instead. Of course they did. Three seconds later, the system announced their deaths.

Chelsea hopped on mic, furious. "Blade, you did that on purpose, didn't you?" I answered in text: "Lol. You're just that dumb." The match ended. We lost.

Katie's Blade messaged me in squad chat: "Bro. Nice hands." I typed: "They're okay." Then Chelsea's bestie put on her sweetest voice. "Elliott, you're amazing too.

Way better than him." Katie stared at me, eyes huge. "Tell me I heard that wrong.

Did she just call him… Elliott?" I stared back. "You've been playing with him this long and you never figured out who he was?" "He never goes on mic! He only ever types!

How was I supposed to know?" Thank god Katie and I had stayed off mic ourselves. We'd lost the match, so I queued up one more to make it up to Katie. A party invite popped up.

I nearly spat out my water. Elliott Rhodes wanted to join us. Katie worshipped the guy. She clamped onto my arm, vibrating. "Oh my god. He's Elliott.

I friended Elliott Rhodes's smurf." He joined the lobby.

And the man who never touched his mic turned it on. "Sorry about earlier," he said. "The two girls last match are friends of mine. They went too far.

I'm apologizing for them." Katie hit her mic and answered in the softest baby voice known to science. "It's fine. We're bigger than that.

We don't fight noobs." I bit down on a laugh and gave her a thumbs up.

Elliott huffed out a laugh. "Let's go." When the match ended, he said he had a favor to ask, and asked to add me. I gave him my alt.

Chapter 8 His first message: "Hi." Me: "Can I help you?" I figured he'd warm up with small talk. Instead he went straight for it: "Are you in college?" "Yeah." He sent me a link.

Fatebound's publisher was running the Collegiate Championship: college students across the country, matched into teams of five. Registration closed in a month.

I was still reading when his next message landed: "Our team is short exactly one player. Would you join us?" I loved esports. I'd always wanted a shot at this event.

But the moment Elliott learned who I was, would he feel played? Get angry? Kick me right back out? I replied: "I'm not that good. Better not." "I watched your old match replays.

Your mechanics are excellent. Some of your plays, even I can't pull off. Would you think about it again?" Then he pulled me into a group chat. Five people, counting me.

The moment I joined, voice messages came pouring in, one after another, all of them welcoming me. My finger hovered over the leave button but couldn't press it.

The chat was filling with clips, all edited by Elliott, all starring me. The rest of the group piled on the praise, hyping me somewhere into the stratosphere. Hyped into a corner.

I had to hand it to them. They were so warm about it that refusing again felt impossible. I said yes. Then the problem hit me. Registration required legal names.

Which meant Elliott, as captain, was going to learn exactly who I was. My head hurt just thinking about it. The next day, he messaged the group: "Sorry, forgot to introduce myself.

I'm Elliott Rhodes, Riverton University, junior year @Blank." The others followed, one by one. Every single one of them was from Riverton.

After all that, I couldn't pretend I hadn't seen it. "I'm in Riverton too. Junior year." An intro so halfhearted even I could barely look at it.

On New Year's Eve, Dorian invited me to a movie. To dodge the awkwardness, I brought my roommate. At the theater entrance, I spotted Elliott. And Chelsea. And Chelsea's bestie.

So much for reading into it. He'd invited me along on a group thing, not out for a date. Dorian walked over to me, smiling. "You made it. Go on in." "Thanks