The Girl He Used to Know(15)
Today I manage to come out ahead, and I move my knight into position. “Checkmate.”
There’s nowhere for her to move her king and she can’t block me or capture my piece. I can tell by her creased forehead and the way she’s staring at the board that she’s already beating herself up for the loss. “I let you win,” she says.
I laugh. “No, you didn’t. You played well, but I played better.”
“I hate that you beat me.”
“I know.”
As we’re picking up the pieces and putting them away, Annika says, “After we went to coffee, you didn’t act like you wanted to see me again.” My teasing smile fades, but I’m not sure if Annika will pick up on the hesitant expression that replaces it.
“I did want to. I just wasn’t sure if it was a good idea.”
“But we’re in the same city now. I’m ready and I’m making things happen this time. I’m not leaving it all up to you.”
“There are things we haven’t talked about yet. Because I don’t think you want to talk about them.”
“I thought we could skip over everything that happened and start fresh.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“It would be so much easier if it did.” She stares down at the blanket and neither of us says anything for a minute.
“I go to therapy once a week. I started as soon as I moved to the city. Her name’s Tina. She’s really helped me understand why I … why I see things the way I do. I told her you probably didn’t want anything to do with me because of what happened between us, but she said maybe it was because of the divorce.”
“It’s a little of both, I suppose.” It’s a hard pill to swallow when you have to admit, even to yourself, that you were wrong about the person you were certain was perfect for you. It was even harder to admit that part of Liz’s allure was that she was the polar opposite of Annika. At the time, I’d convinced myself that it meant everything until the day it backfired on me, and I realized it hadn’t meant as much as I thought it did. “You get cautious after a divorce. Second-guess yourself a little,” I say. But Annika was right to accept some of the responsibility for my hesitation, because it was definitely a factor. “What about you? Any breakups in your past?”
“I dated one of my coworkers at the library. He’s a nice guy and we got along so well. We tried to make a go of it romantically for about six months, but he was too much like me.” She looks into my eyes and then looks away just as suddenly. “It was a disaster. People like us need people who are … not like us to balance things out. We’re just really good friends now. I dated the next man for over a year. He said he loved me, but he could never quite accept me for who I am and treated me as if I wasn’t worthy of his attention and affection because of it. Sometimes I worried that if we’d stayed together, I might have started to believe it.”
“Maybe he did love you, but you wouldn’t let him.”
She shakes her head no. “It’s because of you that I know what it feels like to be loved and accepted.” Her eyes fill with tears and she blinks them away.
“Maybe I’m the one who needs to take it slow this time.”
“I can do slow, Jonathan. I’ll wait for you, the way you always waited for me.”
Annika is wearing slip-on shoes without socks. I reach over and gently take them off. She looks at me and smiles as the memory hits, and she wiggles her toes in the grass like it’s the best feeling in the world.
I smile, too.
12
Annika
THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS
AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN
1991
Jonathan campaigned relentlessly in his effort to convince me to join the competition team. It didn’t help that Eric was now in on it, and I was receiving pressure from both of them.
“What if I came to your apartment and picked you up for the meeting on Wednesday?” he asked. “Then would you go?” I’d only just begun to feel comfortable talking to Jonathan. I wasn’t ready to add another activity, especially a higher-stress activity like competitive chess.
“Maybe.” I wished I could protest that I didn’t need a babysitter, but the truth was that I avoided trying new things at any cost, and that’s exactly the role Jonathan would have to play.
We packed up our things and left the student union together because Jonathan now walked me home every Sunday night after chess club ended. The others would head out for dinner and we would fall in step side by side until we reached my apartment.
It was the highlight of my week.
The sky had threatened rain on my way to the union, and now upon leaving the building, I discovered it had arrived as a heavy downpour. I pulled my umbrella out of my backpack and debated calling Janice to ask her to come get me in her car. I didn’t know how to drive and despite my mother’s urging, refused to obtain a license. The thought of piloting thousands of pounds of metal terrified me, and the closest thing I had to transportation was my old blue ten-speed Schwinn.
“I drove tonight. I can give you a ride home.”
Nervousness about being alone with Jonathan in his vehicle almost prevented me from taking him up on the ride, but before I could think too much about it, he pushed open the door, opened his umbrella, and held it over both of our heads as he headed in the direction of the parking lot. The wind was blowing and we walked quickly as he led me toward a white pickup truck. He unlocked my door and ran around to the driver’s side and unlocked his.