“How in Kasparov’s name did become friends with a creature like that?”

“...did you just use ‘Kasparov in place of God?”

“Answer the question.” Pep had left before Sai and I, leaving just the two of us in the clubroom. It had only been an hour or so, but Pep had already completely exhausted Sai’s conversational stamina. I had to stop myself from smiling at the distress on her face. “Seriously, how does a repulsive loner with no conversational skills, good looks or redeeming qualities end up close with… that.”

“I feel like some of those details you added were unnecessary. And I’ve pretty much known Pep for as long as I’ve been able to talk.”

“So for the last six months?”

“Choke on a dick and die.”

“Whose? Considering how much you compensate I can’t imagine yours could choke a hobbit.”

“I hate you so fucking much.” I’m not sure what annoyed me more, the fact that she insulted me at every turn or the fact that I couldn’t think of a good rebuttal. “But I can’t say I don’t get what you mean.”

“You really do have a one-incher?”

“Bite me. I meant about me and Pep. If we were to meet nowadays, there’s no way we’d become friends. I’d just call her an annoying bitch and she wouldn’t look twice in my direction, the way Kasparov intended. She’s just been such a consistent part of my life that I can’t imagine not being friends with her.”

“Funny, I had assumed that having no friends would be easy for you to imagine.”

“Fuck you.”

“You wish you could.”

“I’m not into beastiality.”

“Are you calling me a beast?”

“I’m calling you a bitch.” Every conversation with this arsehole drives makes me wish I was lobotmised. Hurling obscenities at her was far kinder than she deserved. Once again, it took us five times longer than it should have to get information across. Every time we spoke, neither of us could resist spewing vitriol at one another.

“And… why does she have pink hair?”

“To make it easy to tell her apart in illustrations.”

“Makes sense.”

After a lull in conversation (which I was somewhat thankful for), I figured there was no point in both of us sitting around doing nothing. Wasting my own time was one thing but wasting someone else’s surprisingly made me feel a tad guilty.

“Well, since I’m the club president I’ll get in trouble if I leave early. Wanna actually play a game, or are you gonna bunk off early like Pep?”

“As much as I would love to be devoid of your company, I’ve been informed that attending club time is mandatory. I guess they think I’m on the track to become a delinquent so they’re tryna make me interact with my peers or whatever.”

“You are a delinquent. But yeah, I get it, this school loves to discriminate against loners.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“On this, we agree.” She sat down at the table, and the two of us began our game. Me on white her on black.

Vienna gambit.

“You rely too much on cheap tricks.”

She declines. d5 countergambit.

“You rely too much on theory.”

Pawn takes e5. Play continues with her trying to carefully control the pace, making no risky moves and playing exactly to theory.

Refusing to accept a draw, I started looking for more exciting lines.

“You play like an idiot.” She says, as I make a bold bishop sacrifice on the f7 pawn.

“You play like a coward.” I reply, as she continued to make boring theoretical moves. Just as I had predicted.

The bishop sacrifice had opened up a brutal check-fork for the queen, winning me a knight and flipping the tempo in my favour. With the king now in a precarious spot and castling impossible, I continued harassing her back line with checks, allowing me to slowly whittle down her pawns and gain a three point advantage.

Because she was forced to make several defensive moves in a row, she had been forced to undo much of her piece development, while I used my remaining bishop and knights in tandem with the queen to keep my tempo advantage alive. In just a handful of moves, I had consolidated my positional advantage so much that Sai’s moves started to get desperate.

Eventually, she made the exact fumble I had hoped for, allowing me to force a trade of queens. With a three pawn advantage against a weak defensive position, my eventual checkmate was all but assured.

“…fuck. I resign.”

“You don’t even want to try?”

“Bite me.”

The satisfaction of using the same line against her as she previously used against me made me smirk, though I quickly hid that fact.

“Your problem is that you play exclusively according to theory. If you were a grandmaster that would be fine, but if I were to guess you’re probably around my elo. At this level you have to be more open to risk. If you’re too passive, you’ll eventually make a mistake and your opponent will exploit it.”

“…huh…”

“What? You not get it?”

“No, I get it completely, I’m just… confused as to why you’re genuinely trying to be helpful instead of just… like… calling me a useless bitch and gloating that you won.”

At first I thought to just snide her back and call it a day, but it was actually a fair question to ask. Considering the two of us generally never went a full sentence without vitriol, it probably seemed completely out of character.

“Well, like it or not, the two of us are stuck in this club together. And considering the only other member of this club can barely tell her arse from her elbow, you’re probably my best chance for having actual interesting games. If my advice helps you get better, that just means I won’t get bored of stomping you over and over again.”

“Despite the narcissism, I actually understand that sentiment. Very well. I’ll work to get better at Chess, maybe both of us will be able to alleviate our boredom somewhat.” Her expression didn’t change from her usual half-scowl, but as a fellow loner I was able to recognise that she was feeling some sort of mild excitement at the idea. “Incidentally, how did a loner like you get this good at a game that requires two people?”

“That’s a hurtful question and I hate that you just asked it without hesitation, but if you must know I mainly play it online. No direct interaction needed with the other player, so I don’t have to worry about how much my opponent looks down on me or thinks of me as less than human.”

“I feel like you’ve just said something incredibly sad as if it were perfectly normal. But I can’t say I don’t understand. Some people are condescending, annoying and rude. Especially when they feel like they’re better than everyone else.”

“Don’t I know it.”

“I’m talking about you, dickweed.”

I stopped in my tracks. I was fully ready to agree with her shit talking other people, but she meant me? The hell does that mean?

“What are you talking about? I don’t think I’m better than everyone else.”

“Oh really? So you didn’t earlier say that our entire class has ‘barely enough intelligence between them to count to ten?’”

“That’s not me thinking I’m better than them. It’s me thinking they’re all worse than me.”

“That’s the same thing!”

“No. One is born out of narcissism, the other out of contempt. There’s a difference.”

“That doesn’t explain why you act like a prick at every possible opportunity.”

“Call me black all you want, doesn’t change that you’re even worse than me, you pot. You shit talked me to my face before I even had a chance to introduce myself.”

“Because I could see in your disposition that you had already written me off as just another braindead moron. Just like you do to everyone else.” With that, she stood up from the table and wordlessly walked out the door, not even giving me a chance to rebuttal.

“You bastard. The hell do you know about me anyway?” I said to the empty room.