I still remember when I met him. The carnival dance theme had my face painted shamefully in the orange and whites of a childlike tiger, and my hair was tossed up in the most unruly of knots. Each day before this, I’d entered and rentered and then rentered again the same small dorm lobby. That was one thing I’d always remember from those days. Lizo and him. On this particular occasion, I walked into Lizo with every intention of returning to my room and erasing every and all memory of that horror of a dance.

But then a voice broke my thoughts, “Phoenix!”

I turned, blinking in surprise when my eyes roamed over the nearly empty lobby. Drawing a momentary blank, I took another scan of the room until my eyes fell suddenly on the form of my friend, Parker, at a table hidden by the grand piano. His arm, raised high above his head, waved me over from across the furniture-cluttered room with a bright smile shining.

The painted monstrosity on my face quickly forgotten, I smiled right back, moving without hesitation toward him. Passing through couches and stepping carefully over laptop wires, I rapidly approached my destination when suddenly I, a vision of poise and grace, tripped clumsily over a chair leg– a chair leg, of all things– and toppled unceremoniously to the floor.

“Oh my God, Phoenix!” Parker’s voice pierced the air and the sound of a chair scraping warned me of his impending approach. But when I rolled to my back, laughing at myself and my own clumsiness, I was met with a tall form towering over me and the warmth of a welcoming, extended hand.

I blinked, taken momentarily aback as my startled gaze wandered up and up to the face of my rescuer. Before me stood a boy, about my age, with soft features and long brown hair. His eyes, a deep, murky green, watched me delicately, yet with an intensity that pierced into me like a knife with a golden hilt. I took note of those eyes, subconsciously ingraining them into my memory. I knew then, just as I know now, that those eyes would haunt me for the rest of my life.

“Are you gonna get up or what?”

A deep, jovial voice leapt out at me. I blinked again, shaking myself out of my reverie and reaching up to take his extended hand. Within the next moment that hand hoisted me to my feet and then he greeted me, very suddenly, with a great white smile. When my eyes adjusted and my feet planted firmly in the ground again, I stole more than a small glance at the boy and offered him a smile back.

“Thanks- Jackson, right? From seminar?”

He nodded, his smile unwavering, and stepped away, “Yeah. I’m kinda surprised you remembered. I don’t really interact much.”

He took his seat again at the table, adjusting a backwards hat that lay atop his curly locks, while I tried to recall what I’d seen of him. It was true, he didn’t talk much in seminar. Thinking on it then, I could vaguely remember seeing him around campus and, truthfully, he didn’t seem to talk much anywhere. Hadn’t it just been the other day in seminar that we did the PC Pipeline exercise? Everyone had gotten so aggravated over that silly team builder, but Jackson never said a word.

Guess he’s shy.

Jackson was quickly joined by Parker again at the table and my friend gave me a playful shove as he sat, “Klutz. First you’re running into street lamps and now chair legs? I’m gonna have to put you in a bubble.”

I sunk my elbow deep into Parker’s side, “We swore never to talk about that!”

“Check.”

Parker and I both returned our attention to the table, where there lay a chessboard strewn about with pieces. Jackson moved a piece forward and gave Parker a smug look, leaving my friend with a groan.

“I turn my head for two seconds and he’s already put me in check!” My friend turned to me with an expression mocking offense. “I blame you for distracting me.”

Jackson leaned back in his chair, a light chuckle filling the air around him, “You’re done for, man. You can move a few pieces to try to save yourself, but my queen’s got you in a corner.”

Parker opened and closed his mouth like a catfish, denial written over his sharp features as he ran a hand through his fiery hair and muttered something about “castling.”  

“Ah no, man. It’s way too late for that,” Jackson laughed. He looked at me expectantly, gesturing to his opponent. “Right, Phoenix? Tell him I’m right!”

But my thoughts were elsewhere. He’s a lot bolder when you actually get to talking to him. Who would have thought he could be so lively and friendly?

“Come on, Phoenix. You know I’m right!”

I blinked, shaking my head to clear my mind, “What?”

Jackson laughed at me, “Spacecase. Tell him I’m right! He should have castled a long time ago, there’s no saving his king now.”

A hot blush flooded my cheeks and I coughed out a laugh, “I’m not the one to ask... I don’t know the slightest thing about chess.”

Parker turned to me so fast I thought his head might fly off and he looked at me like I’d just hit him, “Are you joking? Everyone should know how to play chess!”

Jackson, however, said not a word and instead reached over to lay Parker’s king flat across the board, “You forfeit, Parks. Move it.”

Parker moved to protest but Jackson held up a hand, gesturing to me pointedly. As I was confused, Parker seemed to get the idea and stood from his seat, taking me by the shoulders and planting me in it.

“Sit. Stay,” He ordered, patting my head like a dog.

I shot him the most poisonous of glares just as Jackson reached over, a little closer than was good for my heart, and flicked my forehead.

“As of right now,” he checked his watch, a dark false wood that I was shocked to see was still ticking. “There are two hours until curfew. You are not leaving this spot until you can play a good game of chess and maybe even beat Parker. You up for it?”

I choked on a laugh, shaking my head. “N-No, really. You guys have your fun. I have some homework to do–”

Parker began to set up my side of the board, “Our homework for Dr. Cumming isn’t due until next Monday. Your excuse is invalid.”

The two boys before me shared a mischievous look and then Parker popped a squat beside the table, nodding to Jackson who raised a small chess piece to my line of sight, “This is a pawn. It can move forward by one space unless…”

Thirty minutes were left until curfew. Parker had left to do homework some time before and now Jackson and I met eyes in a dead lock for many moments. Finally, when I’d made up my mind, I reached forward and moved my queen.

“Are you sure you want to do that?”

“I’m sure you’re just trying to trip me up.”

A proud smile, “Smart girl.”

My queen moved to the left and I looked up to watch for his next move, confident in my decision. But Jackson gave me no time to cherish that before he moved a specific piece that I’d completely forgot to consider. His bishop came down on my queen in one fell swoop and I groaned, tossing my head back and stomping a foot under the table.

“Come on, don’t whine. Just play,” He reprimanded lightly, a triumphant smile hinting at the corner of his lips.

“We may as well call this game won. You’ve got all my good defensive pieces now. All I have left is my king and some stupid pawns.”

Jackson picked up a pawn, pointing it in my face just close enough to scrape my nose, “Never underestimate the value of a pawn. I’ve won games with only three pawns to defend myself, so don’t just give up.”

I sighed, nodding in defeat and studying the board intensely for my next move.

It was as I was lost in thought that I began to feel the intensity of eyes boring into my skull. Sneaking a glance up, I caught Jackson with his gaze rested tenderly on me. His lips sat motionless but his eyes shone with a smile so bright I found myself struck with a tender form or awe. When he caught my eyes on his, he looked away quickly.

Suddenly I felt a little… lonely.

Shaking my head vigorously to clear any of those thoughts, I refocused on the game before me. Suddenly, after taking a moment away from staring at the board, I could now spot a rare one of Jackson’s discrepancies. Acting faster than I could think, I pounced. One of my pawns shifted forward, diagonal to his king. A huge smile spread over my lips and I leaned back in my chair, fighting a giddy laugh as I proclaimed, “Check.”

Jackson, as if he hadn’t at first heard what I’d said, blinked at me in confusion and asked, “What?”

I pointed down to the board, “Check!.. I– I just put you in check!”

His eyes flicked down faster than a lightning bolt and his irises widened to the size of dinner plates. Though this surprise was short lived, I still relished the disbelief on his face.

A moment later, as promised, any worry vanished from his face and he laughed, picking up his queen and traveling straight to my king.

“You also left yourself wide open. I called check like five minutes ago, spacecase. You practically just offered me your king on a silver platter.”

I sat speechless, amazed at my own mistake.

Jackson lifted his watch again, standing and putting the pieces and board away, “Curfew is in ten, but I expect you back here at the same time tomorrow. Your training isn’t over just yet.”

I groaned again, planting my head on the table in defeat, “Yes, sensei.”

Ten minutes later,, when I’d finally made my way up to the seventh floor and padded sleepily into my dorm room, I paused as the door closed and turned, mortified, to the reflection I’d barely caught in the side mirror.

After two hours of intense chess, intense thought, and intense staredowns between Jackson and I, I almost dropped dead with mortification when I saw my tiger face, untouched and glowing, as if the paint had become a part of the skin itself.

My roommate Emily, looking up from her laptop on her bed, laughed out loud, “The dance ended like, forever ago. How long have you been forcing people to look at that?”

I’d never wanted to shove my head into a pillow until I suffocated more than I did in that moment.

Two days later, we sat in seminar after a long day of classes and guest speakers. I was still in my nicest dress, my ballet flats rubbing blisters on my heels as our seminar leader, Anna, droned on relentlessly about the importance of making connections.

“We have two more weeks together, guys,” she said quietly, her voice bordering solemn. “If you haven’t met everyone yet, I suggest you go around and talk to people. You don’t want to leave this community and wish you’d been closer to someone.”

Closer to someone, eh?

Part of me was content with just the few amazingly close friends I’d made already, but another part of me was shouting to put myself farther out there, to meet new people, or maybe even connect more deeply with someone I’d already met.

A thought struck me, sudden and strange, and before I knew it I was looking up and across the room at Jackson.

His eyes were trained solely on Anna, his face mildly withdrawn as he nodded his head to her incessant lecture. I smiled looking at his mess of brown hair, the bulk of it hidden by his ever present cap. The hair that escaped its hat prison fell gently down to his shoulders, and I found  myself staring at each individual curl, each silky tendril of-

Cut it out, Phoenix. I berated myself. He was nice to you. So what? Big whoop!.... Well, and he’s kinda pretty… No! Bigger whoop!

I shook my head viciously and turned back to Anna, my ears almost listening but my mind a million miles away.

Half an hour later, Anna dismissed us.

“Hey, Nix! Wanna meet up in a couple hours for dinner? It’s taco day!” My closest friend and dorm neighbor, Maxwell, approached and greeted me hurriedly, singsonging the last and most exciting part of her outburst.

I laughed, tossing my hair up into a rust-colored bun atop my head, “Yeah, sure. I’m probably gonna go back to Lizo for a while though and relax. After my book presentation in Cumming’s class today, all I want is some yoga and a nap.”

Maxwell giggled, a sweet, tinkling sound, and nodded, “Sounds good to me. See you then!”

With a delicate wave, characteristic of only my Maxwell, she turned and left the small lounge. Sighing, I reached down for my seminar journal and made my way out the door as well.

It was just as I’d exited the building, stepping out onto the sidewalk, that a voice called out after me, “Phoenix!”

I paused, turning slightly and trying not to look as surprised as I felt when Jackson, in quite the hurry, rushed up beside me and stopped abruptly to place a warm hand on my head,

“You up for a game of chess? Come on, I’ll walk you back to Lizo.”

Surprised as I was, I couldn’t deny myself of the happiness that filled my chest. I merely nodded, walking alongside Jackson through the shower of rubbery leaves and white petals as they fell from the magnolia trees.

“Have you met everyone yet?” He asked, his hands tucking themselves leisurely into the pockets of his cargo shorts

I shrugged, “Not everyone, but most. I’ve noticed that a lot of people have started to form cliques and social circles… It’s a little disheartening, but I know it’s only human nature.”

He chuckled faintly, “I’ll give you that.”

A pause, followed by a comfortable silence. We walked this way for a few minutes, content with the light air surrounding us and simply relushing each other’s company.

“So where are you from?” His voice broke the silence.

“Tiny little town four hours from here. You wouldn’t know it if it spit in your face,” I laughed. “What about you?”

He chuckled again, this time with real humor, “My house is literally half an hour away from campus. My Mom came just this morning to get my dirty laundry…”

My smile widened, “Ah, alright. What’s it like living here? I’m sure you must have a lot of fun with your friends and girlfriend around town. There’s so much to do! Or so I’ve seen.”

Jackson replied so quickly, so adamantly that I almost tripped over the air in front of me with surprise.

“I don’t have a girlfriend… Actually, I’ve never had a girlfriend.”

To say I was taken aback would be the understatement of all understatements. I had to force myself to keep walking, widening my strides to keep up with him.

“Really?... I have a hard time believing that.”

Ack! What are you saying? What is he saying? Ugh, Phoenix, stop talking!

He shrugged, “I just never had any interest in relationships or anything. I’m not really the romantic type. That and I hate hugging. Unconditionally.”

At this, of all things, I laughed, “Hugs? You don’t like hugs? Who doesn’t like a good hug!?”

His cheeks started to turn a little red and he chuckled almost nervously, “Dude, I can barely hug my mother.”

It was at this that I was left unsure of what to say. Jackson also seemed to feel an odd shift in the air between us and he glanced away as I stared down at my feet. Like this we walked, in an oddly tense silence, until we reached Lizo and approached the chess table.

A pattern developed after that day. I found myself giddy in the early mornings, doing yoga and only thinking excitedly about meeting Jackson at the chessboard before breakfast. After a short practice match, we’d eat our meals together in the cafeteria and then part to go to class.

Yet even during class I found myself eager. Eager to leave, eager to play, eager to see Jackson. My thoughts were filled with him, and just knowing a game of chess waited for me back at the dorm excited me.

He definitely knows how to play on the offensive, I thought to myself early the next week in my visual art class. But on the rare occasions that I appear to have cornered him, he seems to panic. Maybe If I can force him on the defensive…

“How’s everything coming along, Miss Ma’am?”

I jerked out of my thoughts and shot my head up, the oil pastel in my hand freezing where it had been lightly shading the aspects of an orange tulip on my paper. My instructor, Glenn, looked at me in my mild state of surprise and laughed heartily, “I didn’t mean to scare you there. You just looked so serious, I had to get you to loosen up.”

Resigned and a little relieved, I breathed out a short chuckle, “Sorry about that. My head is in the clouds today.”

Glenn took a step away and towards the nearby glass wall, “So is the sky apparently.”

At this I took a short glance outside, to which I was met with the downpour of rain and dark, nearly black clouds filling the sky. Suddenly aware of the pounding of the rain on the roof above me, I shook with a mild worry.

Of course, a storm. And during my favorite class too.

But then suddenly, as if a banshee had been released from some far off prison and was now hellbent on shaking me to my core, a shrill,  screaming siren echoed into the room even from beyond the windows and my classmates and I froze in unison, turning to Glenn with even expressions of uncertainty on our faces.

His phone buzzed in his back pocket and he retrieved it swiftly. One glance down at it was enough to send his head shooting back up.

Hurriedly, in a sudden panic, he announced, “The Dean wants everyone back at Lizo immediately. We’re a far ways off, kiddos. Grab your things and start running.”

“Running?  Wha- why? What’s going on?”

A classmate of mine approached me and grabbed my backpack, shoving it to my chest and ushering me out the door quickly, “Haven’t you ever heard a tornado siren before? Come on, we have to go.”

Tornadoes?! Tornadoes! You have got to be kidding me.

My greatest fear being realized, I was seized with panic and my feet began to move. Before I knew it, I was out of the building and running at top speed back to what I prayed was the safety of Lizo and trying not to slip on the wet asphalt.

Five minutes later, a new record for all of us, my class and I burst through the doors of Lizo, drenched and afraid. Shaking, we were ushered into a stairwell by an unknown staff member and were readily assured that this was the safest place to be in times of severe weather.

That reassurance wasn’t enough, however. For many minutes I sat, alone and shaking with wet and cold, reigning in my breathing to keep my mounting panic at bay. Trying to draw my mind anywhere but the inclement weather that was one of my worst phobias, I drew my knees up to my chest and shivered uncontrollably, my teeth chattering despite how hard I fought to still them.

For many long minutes I sat still like that, afraid and unwilling to reach out for help. My panic was all my own and I dreaded allowing anyone to witness it for any reason.

Storms come and go, I told myself desperately. That twister will roll right on out of here and Auntie Em and Uncle Henry will swoop in to your rescue-

Something warm was draped over my shoulders, and my head moved up slowly in numbed surprise. Glancing up cautiously, there stood my fierce opponent in skill, moving to sit beside me and pulling a warm fleece blanket tighter over my shoulders.

“Scaredy cat,” Jackson’s voice was tender and soft. “It’s just a storm, so don’t cry, alright? I get flustered around girls when they cry.”

I hadn’t realized I’d been crying until that moment, but even so I swiftly swiped at my cheeks and turned my face away in embarrassment to hide my puffy eyes.

He nodded his head behind him and turned to pull something toward us, “Can I interest you in a game?”

A warmth flooded my heart and I knew, before I ever turned and saw, that there was a chess board set and ready to go just behind me. Upon shifting my body and laying eyes on the object itself, I looked at Jackson and clenched my shaking hands, willing them to be still.

“You’re on,” I smiled through my still shaking voice.

The move of a queen, “Check.”

Shift of a king, “Check.”

Forward move of the opposing queen, “I heard something about check?”

Slide of a rook, “Check, indeed.”

I groaned, laying my head back against the wall, “How are you still avoiding me? I think I’ve got you and then you get me right back! This is absurd!”

“Quit staring at me and focus on the board! Maybe then you’d make a decent move instead of letting me chase you all over the place.”

“I am not staring at you!”

“Oh yes you are!”

I opened my mouth to protest again, but paused when I came to terms with how futile it would be. I had indeed been staring at him, for what reason I couldn’t say. But I knew that I enjoyed watching him. I enjoyed the intensity on his face while he played. Something about it… put me at ease.

“Okay, fine. Maybe I was. But that’s just my game tactic! I’m trying to read your mind. It has yet to work, but it will! Just wait!”

He laughed, reaching over and flicking my forehead because he knew I hated it when he teased me like that. For a moment we sat, neither of us speaking, until his head lifted up and he sat a little straighter, indicating his attention was no longer on our game. Slowly I watched his lips tilt up in a soft smile.

“I’m glad you’re okay.”

My cheeks, which were already warm, flushed with heat.

“Thanks to you. Ever my hero.”

He looked away for a moment, seemingly embarrassed, but continued to speak softly, “If something like that happens again… Come find me, okay? I’m always in your corner. I’m your queen when your king is in need.”

“My protector...” My heart felt like it was going to explode and my voice was barely audible. “Thanks, Jackson.”

A smirk, apparently because our conversation was a little too… mush, painted his lips. “And even defying gender roles. We are on fire today.”

We met eyes for the first time and what I saw in his gaze was undefinable by any word or adjective in the English language. A spark was lit, though, and both of our faces shined as we shared a laugh that filled the whole stairwell with light.

Later that night, after the storm had come and passed and I was safe in bed, I remembered the exact moment when I felt something unlike anything I’d ever felt before. I fantasized about holding his hand, even for a moment, and I wondered how his fingers would fit between mine.

Remembering that night now, I can’t recall whether I was really fantasizing or merely lost in a dream.

The week went by in a flash. Before I could blink, we were working on final reports and everyone was gearing up for the epic closing ceremony and the last night’s lock-in. On that Friday morning, as I was packing up the bulk of my things in my room and clearing my desk, my roommate threw down her suitcase and groaned as loud as she could, face-planting into her bed and screaming into her mattress.

Before I could react, a pounding sounded on the door and then, without pause, entered Maxwell.

“Am I the only one here who is miserable?” she sighed, leaning against the door and swiping at her red, burning eyes.

Emily looked up, tears I hadn’t before noticed trickling down her face, “Tell me about it! I can’t stand the idea of leaving. We’ve only just gotten close to one another, and now they’re dragging me back to Alabama. Nix, you’re off to God-knows-where out in no man's land! And Max, you’ll be heading back to the city. It’s not fair.”

I remained silent, a lump forming in the back of my throat and tears, hot and aggravating, pricking the back of my eyes like a million tiny bees.

Maxwell came and took a seat on my bed, nodding at our despaired friend with a look of maturity and wisdom that only Maxwell could pull off, “We have text, and calls. Right? Not to mention Nix has already promised me she’d write.”

A tear slipped down my cheek and I bit my lip, “It’s more personal that way. It means so much more.”

Maxwell and I, exchanging a look that meant we were clearly thinking the same thing, stood and moved to sit beside Emily as she laid limply across her bed. Upon our arrival, she sat up and wiped her cheeks for stray tears.

“I’m gonna miss you guys,” She sniffled, her blue eyes glassy.

Maxwell and I enveloped her in a massive hug, tighter than that of which I’d ever experience or given. For a moment, I briefly thought of Jackson and my tears renewed behind my eyes.

“Me too,” Maxwell murmured simply, her chin tucked against Emily’s head.

I laid against Emily’s shoulder, squeezing her tightly and reaching over to take Maxwell’s hand.

“Me too.”

After lunch that day, all students were instructed to convene for one final seminar session. At this news, I wasn’t sure whether to be overjoyed or filled with dread. When I reached our seminar location, along with my peers, we all froze when we saw our Anna, accompanied by her staff assistants, Bernard and Glenn, with a huge ball of multi-colored yarn and a sad smile on her face.

“Come on over, guys. Form a circle, and make sure everyone gets in!”

We all shuffled about, making room for stragglers as they came in, and situated ourselves next to our friends and classmates. As our circle expanded, I caught sight of Jackson across the circle beside Anna. His eyes darted around, vaguely in my direction, and I got the idea that perhaps he was trying too hard to look anywhere but at me.

The room quieted after a few moments and then Anna spoke, lifting the ball of yarn high above her head, “For our final group activity, I wanted to do something that all of us could connect to. So, Melissa-”

The short girl, sweet with a bright smile, looked up in surprise and barely caught the ball of yarn that had been chucked directly at her head.

“I want to stay connected to you,” Anna said, her sad smile yet to waver. “You have influenced me every day that I have had the joy of being around you. Your happiness and charisma never fail to bring joy to others and your strive for everyone to feel welcomed will always warm my heart each day I think about it.”

Anna turned back to the group, “One at a time, you will throw the yarn to someone and tell them why you want to stay connected to them once we leave this place. If you are chosen, you take hold of the loose string and then toss the yarn to your choice of person. In the end we should have large web. Everyone understand?”

A solemn hush fell over the room and Anna nodded to Melissa to continue.

“Tatum.”

Next, “Caroline.”

And, “Jason.”

Followed by, “Grant.”

And then suddenly, “Jackson Byrd.”

My eyes flicked over to Grant, a tall guy with a broad frame and sharp features. He smiled at Jackson kindly, tossing the yarn over to him with ease.

“You’re a good guy,” He beamed. “And one helluva chess player. If there’s one reason I wanna stay connected to you, it’s so you can coach me on how to play a good game.”

The room chuckled, and even Jackson looked pleased for a moment. His eyes though, almost immediately, moved sharply away from his friend and landed, undoubtedly, directly on me.

“I’m gonna go with Phoenix,” he said without hesitation, a shy yet somehow bold smile tilting at his lips. “Because… well…”

He looked down sheepishly, as if he had so much he wanted to say but so little courage to do so. All the while my heart was gaining speed in its beating and a heat spread over my entire body.

“You’re just a wonderful person,” He said finally, his eyes meeting mine as if in hopes of drowning me in the melted chocolate of his irises. “I’ve asked myself who wouldn’t want to know you. You’re just so lively and… and selfless. I’m… really glad to know you.”

The room was silent, as if they somehow knew the gravity of the air between us, and we stood silently for just a moment. Whenever he finally tossed the ball of yarn my way, my hands caught it almost effortlessly and I held my end of the string tighter than was probably necessary.

After that, I couldn’t recall who I’d chosen or who was chosen after that. My eyes remained on Jackson, and his eyes on me. Despite this, there was no tension. We stood still, silently staring at each other with a smile growing wider by each passing moment.

After the last person had been chosen and everyone had a piece of string, Anna instructed us to lay the web down on the carpet.

“This is our web of connections,” She said, her voice bright. “As long as you have a piece of this yarn, you’ll always be connected to each other.” She tossed a pair of scissors lightly on the floor, “Make what you will out of it. Bracelets, necklaces, keychains. Whatever you’ll be able to keep for a very long time.”

To this day I still wear that bright, colorful anklet. The fibers are worn from countless showers and I have an ever-present tanline. That first night, if my memory holds true, I was no stranger to my new ornament. It felt like a part of me. A part of me that had always been there, that had never been foreign.

The closing ceremony was long and tear-jerking. I received the Hamilton Award for “Most Likely to Perform on Broadway” and Jackson had clapped for me, beaming with pride. I cherish that image as it sits in my memory, even now.

The lock-in, immediately after the ceremony, was loud and busy. The lobby of Lizo was filled entirely with energetic teenagers and we were all up until at least 4am. (Despite having to vacate the dorms by ten the next morning.)

Maxwell and I sat with a group of friends, playing an intense game of rock, paper, scissors. We all laughed ourselves into tears, our wheezing fueling the laughter of those around us.

Eventually, Parker and Jackson approached us where we sat on the carpet.

“Losers. Rock, Paper, Scissors? Really?” Parker teased, plopping down beside me and gearing up for his round.

“He says as he joins the game,” I retorted, trying not to allow myself the joy that threatened to overwhelm me at Jackson’s consuming presence behind me. I felt more so than saw him kneel down beside me, just close enough to murmur a soft proposition.

“Chess board is open. What do you say? One last game?”

The word “last” shoved a knife straight into my heart, but still I was somehow able to smile, “You’re on.”

His hand extended down toward me, and briefly I flashed back to that day just a couple weeks ago that now seemed to have happened years ago. The chair, my fall, and then his hand. Beckoning me closer to him. Foreshadowing to the comfort that was his presence.

My queen, I thought with a smile. The most reliable piece on the board.

He hoisted me to my feet quickly, leading me without ever releasing my hand to the chess board that he’d already preset. He gestured me into the chair next to the white pieces and he took his seat across from me.

“Your move, Nix,” He said hurriedly, wasting no time. “Remember. You’ve got first-move advantage. Don’t blow it.”

I looked down at the board, deep in thought yet ever aware of Jackson’s eyes on me. Under such odd pressure, my mind wouldn’t dare focus on my options for my first move. Knowing this, I swallowed a helpless groan.

Eventually I picked up a pawn, resolving just to move something and get on with the game.

It was then that I began to notice a shift in the air between us. My pawn in midair, my heart pounding painfully slow within my chest, and my eyes glazing over, there came a sudden stillness throughout the whole room- no, the whole world- and time seemed to just… stop.

Jackson’s eyes were so intense I thought I might suffocate.

My hand still waved in the air, unsure of what to do with my pawn or whether to do anything with it. Jackson’s hand, however, shot out at me with lightning speed and suddenly my heart rate spiked.

He grabbed a tight hold of my wrist, surprising my gaze up to his eyes only to show me pure determination and what appeared to be… need. With a force unlike any other, he pulled me up and slightly across the table, scattering the chess pieces and leaving a few to spill in the floor.

But the chess pieces were forgotten.

The surrounding people were forgotten.

Tonight’s goodnights, tomorrow’s goodbyes.

Today’s sorrows, tomorrow’s uncertainties.

None of those things dared cross my mind.

Because the only thing worth comprehending at that moment was Jackson’s soft, warm lips laid delicately, desperately over mine.

I don’t know when he pulled away. I don’t know why. All I remember about the rest of that night, just as staff began to usher us all upstairs for 4 AM curfew, was Jackson’s forehead rested gently against mine and the murmured words,

“Checkmate.”

In the morning, when my mother pulled into the parking lot and came inside to carry my things to the car, I was left to say my goodbyes.

Maxwell, Emily, and I shared one final group hug and tearful farewells. For the millionth time I promised to write and stay in touch, and for the millionth time I meant it.

Parker, standing by the door with his own parents, waved me over for a brief hug and solong. He promised to text me before the next semester started and made me promise in return to send him pictures of my dog– he made sure to remind me how much he loved dogs.

And then there was Jackson, standing quietly at the empty chess table with his ever-present hat turned backwards and his hair down to his shoulders, clean and curly.

This is how I want to remember him. I promised myself. Rested, happy, and beautiful.

He lifted his head, our eyes meeting. Almost immediately, as if by nature, he nodded me over and I dared not hesitate for fear he wouldn’t make such gesture again.

“So this is it, huh?”

“Indeed, it is.”

We stood for a moment, neither of us daring to speak. I flicked a curious glance up at his face, cast in a quiet shadow, and took a breath shaking with unshed tears– tears that would remain unshed.

“Phoenix?”

“Yeah?”

Our eyes met, both of our gazes as cloudy as the stormy weather just outside.

“If you’re ever in town…”

“You know I’ll call.”

Because this couldn’t continue after we left. Because this was us, this was Phoenix and Jackson, and beyond this… neither of us knew anything more. And neither of us could learn any more… for fear of ruining a perfect thing.

A perfect thing.

I still tell myself that. To this day I reason with myself that we were young, filled with nothing but naïveté, and we made the right choice.

Oh but if one could only imagine how it rained, how it poured that day after my mother and I had left. The most awful downpour pelted the glass of Lizo lobby even as Jackson and I said our final goodbyes.

And yet something I will always remember about Jackson Byrd:

My phone buzzed in my back pocket, undoubtedly my mother telling me to get to the car before the rain picked up.

It must have been the sound itself, or maybe the realization on my face when I thought this, that Jackson knew and acted.

Two strong– unbelievably strong arms wrapped tightly around my waist and squeezed me, crushing me in the most beautifully painful of ways to his chest.

And I just froze, my arms holding onto him weakly with the after effect of my shock.

“But I thought you didn’t–”

“I don’t.”

“But then why–?”

“Because I want to.”

If I close my eyes, even as I recount this, I can still feel the ghost of his arms around me and the warmth of happiness that filled my heart.

And to this day I miss his arms, his warmth, his light.

And to this day I miss him.