ChessMature

‘I thought you would never ask’ I mumble out of his ear length as I rise from my still chilly red plastic seat, creaking with misuse as I stand.

He should have known this was coming. What would he of expected, for me to keep silent over that claim?

No, he just likes to make me squirm. He gets pleasure from my frustrations as much as I do from him. He’s just playing a game of eternal chess, with me as his constant opponent.

And as a pawn, I must make my move.

“The only one that is plausible?” I repeated his words.

“Well?” he questions with a raised brow.

Knight to rook’s square.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought this was a philosophy class is it not?”

He huffed rather loudly through his nostrils, wrinkling his nose “you’re not wrong on that, Ms Engel.”

“Then tell me why you believe that only the theory of Charles Darwin is the most logical and, dare I say, more correct one?”

“Because of general evidence, constant study and philosophical meaning behind it back it up more so.”

“More so? Don’t be ridiculous.” My words are getting more confident and more challenging to his position.

“Ridiculous?”

Bishop to queen’s square.

“You’re a Doctor, are you not? You cannot claim that there is only one answer to every question, it is beyond logic.”

“’Beyond logic?’ Ms Engel-

“You making it sound as if you have disregarded everyone else’s opinion and theory to life itself; we do not have the answers, so you cannot claim to know them-

“Ms Engel!”

Check.

His disgruntled voice rebounded off the thin interior of the dome shaped lecture room, piercing through my middle ear with such strength, I winced at the slight ringing in my ears, yet I feel no shame or regret from my actions.

“Weather you like it or not, this class is teaching this theory. The world does not revolve around your brain, or your ideas. You came to this class, weather you knew it or not, to learn these theories and abide by them; to learn philosophy, did you not?”

I breathe “Yes Doctor Cohen, I did.”

“You’re in a philosophy class, are you not?”

“That’s arguable, but yes.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

 “Then, Ms Engel, turn to page 64.”

Checkmate.

 ********************************************************************

Me and my friend Zachary’s interval had arrived; our void between classes which we fill with regular chatter and bearable refreshments. We are seated at the Café Amber, famed for its more so fast food given a sense of upper class, yet maintaining a student environment, having internet access for Laptop usage, and a few rather average arcade machines for the wasteful.

I hated to admit it, but I lost the fight with the infamous doctor Cohen. In truth, he was right. It was my choice to study for this degree, to become the perfect, the norm, and the acceptable. To speak my mind, in its own ways are frowned upon, no matter what they explain to you through therapy.

We can never be unique.

Because it means to be an outcast.

Zack was an exception, a male of twenty years who has attempted to drag me under his wing. On occasions, it has worked. He’s been my friend throughout the years of my loneliness. He was there to pull me out of the gutter from my grief. There to hold my hair back during my years of binging on the piss.

And dealing with the death of the only relative I had left, my grandfather.

Oh woe is the orphan, the homeless, the unloved and unknown.

Yet I do not deserve any of these titles.

“You know,” Zack began, his voice muffled by the half eaten contents of his curly fries, “You sort of asked for it.”

“What are you talking about?” I lie with a mellow frown.

“Your failed argument with Cohen.”

“I didn’t fail; I just chose to finish it.”

“You never were the type to admit defeat, Lee.” He smirked without hesitation. Oh he’s asking for it, the twit.

“And I’m not starting now.”

I was half expecting Zack to reply with some form of sarcasm, but his mouth was too filled with potato mash to reply. I wasn’t really hungry, I realized this when I began to prod at my plate of avocado salad with disinterest. Something of much greater importance was plaguing my appetite.

Zack must have noticed as he swallowed his fries downward, using his fingers to wipe away the debris from his heat swollen lips, his face turning towards my eyes with sincerity. “What’s on your mind, Kay Lee?”

Does he really want to know about the woman’s mystique? I guess that’s what your friends are there for, for a shoulder to lean on, or, in some cases, a wallet to mine into.

“What is there you want to know?” I reply, gesturing my finger to my temple.

“Oh, I know when my Lee is bothered; I don’t need to read your mind to know that.”

I couldn’t resist smiling a little to that comment. But it faded from its position rather quickly. I close my eyes and inhale the sickly scent of lavender disinfectant from the lino floor of the café. Before exhaling, my forest green eyes colliding with Zack’s deep ocean blue.

“You were a lot later than usual,” Zack continued, scratching the back of his neck, sensing my discomfort. “Has something happened?”

I chuckled nervously, my eyes drifting out the window towards the university’s mascot, the guardian Angel statue, corroded green and silver.“You could say that.”

The End

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