In one move I would have my opponent beaten. He moved his knight forward, but the next move I made had him cornered. "Checkmate," I said with a smirk. He looked in astonishment at the chess board. I stood up to shake his hand and applaud his attempts, but all he did was run away frustrated. I shrugged my shoulders, since this wasn't unusual to me, and walked over to my mother.
My mother was sitting on the bench, reading a book since that was the norm of all things she did. She didn't bother to look up as she asked, "Who won?". "Me," I responded. Finally closing her book and looking up she said with a chuckle, "Of course you did." My mother never really understands how I feel about chess, I mean I'm just a bunch of dollar signs and camera flashes to her. My mother sees me as something to profit off of, not a daughter. As long as she's alive, I'd have to win every chess match, or I'd be in deep trouble. . .
"Can we go home now?" I asked my mother, who was still sitting and reading. "You can honey, but I'm gonna stay and read, and maybe do more interviews with the press." "Alright," I said, knowing this wasn't something that hadn't happened before. So I crossed the street to our townhouse, it mocking me with its colored siding and front door. The black and white siding that reminded me of the chess boards I'd played on for hours at a time, the gold door symbolizing the trophies I won, not for me, but for my mother. Then there was the boy, the boy that was sitting on the steps, the boy I had once loved.
He stood up as I approached, and gave a slight wave. I froze in my steps and just stared at him, my heart longing for him. The next thing he did absolutely melted my heart. He ran to me and hugged me with his whole body, crushing me into him. I hadn't noticed I was crying until he pulled away from the hug and wiped a tear off my face with his thumb. "Gene," he said, "I've missed you so much." "Anthony," I said about to burst into tears, "Why did you have to leave?" "You know my parents control me, and I cant do anything about it. It wasn't my choice to move away," he said. "Just never leave again okay?" I pleaded. "I won't," he said, "Because my parents don't control one thing. . ." "What?" I asked. "My heart," he answered.
I was about to say something else, but he had already had his lips pressed against mine. The kiss could have lasted forever. It was so deep with emotion, so deep with love. I knew at that moment Anthony meant more to me than stupid chess and pleasing my mother, and I knew I meant more than anything to him. He pulled back, even though I wanted it to last a lifetime.
He cradled me in his arms, my head pressed to his beating heart, and I said, "I love you Anthony." "I love you more Gene," he said, "and I always will." Then he tilted my head up by putting his hand under my chin, and gazed into my eyes before once again kissing me with a deep passion.