The Slut's Guide to Chess

prologue

"The first time I really talked to Eliott Hearse was after the whole school had seen that picture of my boobs," I began, voice shaky.

The lights shone on me brightly leaving spots of darkness within my already hazy vision. It was completely silent except for the squeak of shoes against the linoleum flooring of the studio. The large camera peered straight forward and stared at me. My heart stuttered and I didn't want to keep talking. Not when the crew gawked at me with blank faces just waiting for that one line which would skyrocket the ratings for the TV show.

Blackwell Boarding School was renowned for this crap. Saturday night the country would sit down and watch how our weeks played out at the elite boarding school for the rich. Children of politicians, celebrities and royals were watched under a magnifying glass, our every mistake broadcasted on television for all to see.

"Picture of your..." The interviewer trailed off from his place behind the camera. I didn't recognise him and the strangeness of his stare was what brought bile to my throat.

He looked at me with a twitch in his eye that left me burning with venom. I knew he'd already forgotten about the scandal that had rocked my whole perspective of life. Sometimes, I would trick myself into thinking that the other students had forgotten too. But then I'd see the crude messages scrawled out onto the bathroom walls about me and I was reminded that students of Blackwell Boarding School never forgot anything.

"Yes, my private pictures were leaked and Eliott was my roommate, she felt bad for me. That's when we started to become friends."

At the time, I was mortified. Griffin Blackwell and I had been talking for a month or so and I really liked him - he made me feel pretty. So, when he asked for pictures, I did it. Of course, I was hesitant but I trusted Griffin enough to see it and keep it between us. I took a blurry picture of my body in the bathroom and sent it to him. Then, Griffin sent it to his friends, who sent it to their friends, who sent it to their friends until everyone in the damn school had seen it.

It didn't happen all at once, either. The picture crawled around the school halls humiliatingly slow as gradually more and more people saw it. It was as if the air had shifted and the back of my neck tingled from shameless stares.

One day, it all got too much and I ran. I escaped to my dorm room to see Eliott sitting on the carpet between our two beds with a pack of playing cards in her hands. She shuffled them slowly and the only sound was that of cards as they shifted against one another. I even held my breath just to listen.

She gestured to the spot in front of her with kind eyes and I felt enveloped in her embrace of lavender and comfort. She lined the deck out carefully and as though we'd done it countless times before, I picked a card. They were worn with wear and crisp with age, as fragile as my heart at that moment.

"Turn it around," Eliott urged and I did.

Ace of hearts.

As I studied the yellowing card in my hand, Eliott had lifted her clear blue eyes to meet mine. They reminded me of the ocean, crashing with passion and the effect of it weaved its way over to me and pushed a heavy pressure against my chest. It wasn't painful, it was different.

"Welcome to the slut club, Zora McQueen."

I nearly choked.

"Pardon."

Laughter bubbled from her thin lips and it caught me off guard. I could only stare at her. She had a milky complexion, far paler than I had ever seen that made the light sprinkling of freckles across her button nose pop out. She'd recently dyed her naturally light brown hair a midnight black and bleached the front two strands a blazing white. Eliott Hearse was badass.

"I'm not judging you, Zora," she recovered. "I mean, I'm the president of the slut club after all. I'm just here to welcome you with open arms...and open legs."

My face heated and I was incredibly glad for my dark skin that managed to hide the blush well. Eliott gathered the cards back in her dainty hands and began to shuffle them again. We fell into a buzzing silence.

"Hey," she began, visibly perking. "Wanna play chess?"

Before I could have replied she reached out, extending her skinny body under the bed and pulled out a wooden board. Decorated with checkered black and white tiles, the chessboard was ancient. Much like the playing cards, her board was battered with use and littered with chips along the wood.

"Did she ever say anything to you?" The interviewer broke me from my thoughts. His voice was deep but bored.

A woman rushed up to him holding a scalding hot coffee which he snatched gratefully. I waited for a moment and watched as Mr Interviewer pulled his tanned hands through the gelled mess of his blonde hair. His blue eyes urged me to continue while he took short sips, his adam's apple bouncing up and down. The microphone above me seemed to get closer by every second and I was afraid it would fall onto my head. Everything was pushing in and the bright light made the back of my neck prickle with sweat.

"She liked chess. A lot," I commented and couldn't help the smile as it tugged at my lips. The picture-perfect memory of Eliott as she jutted out her tongue in concentration, placing old wooden chess pieces on the board with ease and the jangling of her braclets against one another. When she finished putting down the black pieces on my side, I interrupted her train of thought.

"I've never played," I admitted.

It seemed as though she hadn't heard at first. Instead, Eliott placed the white pieces on her side of the board. The sound of wood on wood was all that reverberated past the thrashing of wind outside our dorm window. When she'd successfully finished, she looked up at me with a sly grin. I pushed my braids behind my shoulder with a shuddering breath.

"Well, consider this the slut's guide to chess." And she moved the white pawn forward with amusement.

Two months later, Eliott Hearse would go missing without a trace and it seemed that only I had the faintest idea where she could have gone. It all led back to that board game. She trusted that I'd find her because we were entwined with one thing. We were the whores, the captain and co-captain of the slut club.

If I wanted to get anywhere, I had to follow the slut's guide to chess.