The Pawn

"You're going to construct a  giant chess piece out of paper mache!" The teacher explained over-enthusiastically to the room full of bored teenagers. "Don't you see?" she continued, desperate for the class to share her vision, to affirm her ability to teach an art class using the degree she had thought she'd teach biology with. "We'll be able to take them out in the atrium on the checkered floor and play a giant game of chess!"

Nobody cared. We were all there for the easy A credit, for craps sake it was crafts 101 and scheduled right after lunch, most of us didn't even plan on showing up very often, certainly no one expected it to be a great learning experience.

"Okay, well I've assigned what piece you're supposed to construct, take a look on the sheet I've passed out to find out what you're supposed to make. We want to be sure we have enough of the correct pieces to play that game of chess!" she finished and got busy tearing more newspaper into strips.

Of course I was assigned a pawn.  I stared at the page I was supposed to sketch an idea of the shape I'd be making with no idea how to proceed until the chatter from the girl next to me started to make it's way in. "I'm new, too. From Seattle." she said.

"You can tell I'm new?" I asked her. It was strange in this smaller school. Back home at the beginning of the year there were too many people from too many place to use geography to cast outsiders.

"Oh yeah." she said. Her hair was a shiny black a-line curtain that swung open and shut with the motions of her head. "where are you from?" she asked.

"Portland."

"Oh I love Portland. Have you been up to Seattle much? Don't you just hate it here? It sucks."

"Yeah. I guess so."  I started doodling on the instructions sheets, band names and swirly gigs rather than chess pieces. "What's your name, anyway?"

" Chelsea. Don't look, but that guy at the table behind us is sorta cute. Okay look but real casual like."

I didn't turn around.  "You don't look like a Chelsea. The one with the glasses?"

"Yeah, he's been staring over here."

"I know." I tried to re-tie a worn out hemp bracelet on my arm with one hand.

"Do you know him or something?" she asked

"No. I just know he's been staring."

"Oh." she was disappointed. "I haven't really met anyone yet." she admitted, we were a few weeks into the school year so I could see why she'd be worried. "Except you! Do you know any cool people yet?"

"I've met some people, ya wanna meet them I'll introduce you."

"He is totally staring over here!" she said laughing excitedly. "He's sorta cute, isn't he? I think he's an asshole, I heard someone say he's an asshole."

"What's with the tapered pants?" I said rhetorically, raising an eyebrow. "and why is he wearing a leather jacket in here? It's not even cold."

"ahahahaahah! You're mean!" she said, delighted.

"No I'm not!" I turned completely on my stool and met his gaze. He pulled his wavy hair behind his ears self-consciously and leaned back, holding the large, low table for balance and then sat back up, flexing his hands and breaking eye contact first. I turned back around to face my tablemates. "Do you think he smokes?"

"Maybe." Chelsea said. "Why, do you smoke?" Instead of answering her I got up from the table and walked over to his, sitting down on the empty stool across from him.

"Do you have a cigarette I could bum off you?" I asked him

"Sure. I have a whole pack you can have." He said.

"I don't want your entire pack. I just want one."

"Well. I don't really smoke them so I'd just as soon give you the whole pack."

"Why do you have cigarettes if you don't smoke them?" I asked. The entire exchange was being held in the low stage whisper teenagers use so that adults can pretend not to hear them. He shrugged off my question.

"Do you want them or not?"

"I guess if you don't want them."

"I don't have them here."

"What? Where are they?"

"They're at my house."

"That doesn't do me much good, here now does it?" I laughed at him. "You made it sound like you had them right now."

"Nope. They're at my house. I'll bring them tomorrow."

"I won't need them tomorrow."

"You could come to my house after school."

"Ha! I don't even know you! I'm not going to your house for a cigarette! Besides, I would miss my ride home."

"It's up to you." he said

"Thanks anyway." I went back to my original table.

"What happened, what did you say!!" Chelsea asked, laughing. "You were over there for forever!"

"He's weird. It was weird. I don't know."

"I told ya he's an asshole!"

"He wasn't an asshole… exactly." I laughed. "Just weird."

"You didn't even draw a pawn piece!" Chelsea pointed out as the teacher dismissed us.

"Oh. Yeah. Well, I can't draw. I don't see what drawing it has to do with making it. I'll just wing it."

"It's going to be one fucked up pawn." she laughed.

"Maybe." I admitted. "That's half the fun, isn't it? I can't wait to see Ms.P's face when all the lousy fucked up paper mache chess pieces are out in the atrium, lumpy and wet."

Chelsea laughed and gestured toward the stares. "I have to go this way to my next class." she said regretfully.

"Look for me at lunch tomorrow." I told her and she nodded before being sucked in amongst the throng of bustling students.