The park was alive with the decaying trees characteristic of mid-autumn. A child’s red Frisbee flew just over the two-sided bench where they sit across from each other, deeply rooted in a game of chess. It barely missed his white Rook standing in the H column which would have caused a domino effect to make ill their, thus far, tepid and calm evening. It didn’t bother him so much as it did her, then again it was his move and the decisions were getting tougher.

“I told you I was good at this.” She said with her arms folded and eyes resiliently staring back and forth between his indecisive hands and the board itself.
“I never said you wouldn’t be.”
“Either way, I’m making you look stupid.”
“We’re two reasonably attractive college students casually playing chess in the park, I doubt either one of us is looking any more intelligent than the other at this point.”

With that he made his move.

“Are you sure?” she said.
“Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“What you’re trying to do, don’t even try it with me.”
“What am I trying to do?”
“You’re trying to make me question my move so that you can manipulate me into making a move that would put me at a disadvantage.”
“…Or, I could actually be trying to help you out but okay.”
“This is a game, player one vs. player two, there’s never helping the opponent.”
“It’s chess, not war.”
“Fun Fact: Chess was originally made as a strategy game in order to help generals find strategies to defeat their enemies…in war.”
“Is that a fact?”
“It is, it is.”
“If you weren’t losing so badly I’d bet my last handful of pocket change that you were the smartest person in this park”

There was a short beat of silence after that, not long enough for the old man sitting in the bench across the walkway to finish his sentence to himself, but just enough to let the raging child shout an obscenity to his parents.

“Well?” he said looking up from the board
“Well what?” she mumbled through her hand covering her mouth on the arm stilting the weight of her head.
“Well...it’s your turn.”

Her posture went from relaxed to engaged in the time it took for a dry leaf to blow across the table to hit her arm.

“Oh Right!”

She made her move.

“Checkmate.”

They both looked the board for a moment before looking at each other with matching emotionless stares.

“Don’t act like you’re not glad you won, I see a smile cracking.” he said.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“What you’re doing right now.”
“What am I doing?”
“You’re kissing up to the person who beat you, that’s a sign of weakness.”
“It’s a sign of a very well enjoyed game of chess, and of respect for the one who was victorious.”
“Right, weakness.”
“Well how about we play again and see who’s really the weakest?”
“I think that’s already been established.”

He confidently put his elbow on the table and says

“Bet.”
“Bet what?”
“I don’t know, we’ll decide by the end of the game, but a big bet, a huge bet.”
“Fine, I’m game.”

He slowly began putting all the pieces in place and she began to gnaw away at her fingernails.

“So how is Anna?” she said
“Anna?” he said “She’s doing just fine, why do you ask?”
“You don’t talk about her.”
“Well…do you want me to talk about her?” he said as if saying You weirdo
“It’s just curious how you went to not shutting the hell up about her, to basically going deaf-mute”
“Curiosity killed the cat.”
“Well I’m not a cat, so tell me what’s going on.”

He began to put pieces in their places a lot faster, placing them in the wrong places.

"What is it that you really want to know?" he said, focusing on the board.
"Exactly what I asked."
"I told you, Anna is just fine."
"Expand on fine."
"I...I couldn't really tell you. I don't talk to her much anymore."
"Then how do you know she's fine?"

He sternly placed the last queen, his queen, in its starting position and looked her in the eye.

"Look, can we just enjoy this game?"

She looked at the board and back at him.

"No, we can't...you didn't set it up right."

He looked down to see that he did in fact set up the board completely incorrect, almost no piece in it's right position. Some black pieces were where the white ones should have been and vice versa. As if in armistice he rested his head on the table.

"Okay...what do you want to know?"
"You keep asking that question when you already know the answer, you might as well just tell me."

He took a moment to himself to notice how much lower the sun had gotten since he last looked; how muchlonger the shadows they (him, her, the bench, and the black & white mosaic kingdom between them) had gotten.

"Fine" he began "You remember Phil right?
"Hillard?"
"Yep."
"I knew of him, sure."
"Chances are you enough about him."
"Yea, he got the clap from that one call girl when we all went to that research trip to Mexico."
"Yep...He'll deny it's the clap to this day but...I know."
"Really now?" she said with a look of surprise."
"Yes...but no, not in the way you're thinking, that actually brings me back around to Anna."
"Oh...oh! wait...did she-?"
"Yes."
"With Phil Hi-"
"Yes."
"On that same trip?"
"Yep."
"When you and her were still..."
"I'm clean...but yea, she did...and yes she does have it."

A woman with a closed stroller came walking past them, and was the last person there in the park besides them, not that they noticed; he was still hunched over looking at the chessboard, and she, still staring right at him as if he were barely visible.

"That sucks..." she mumbled.

He remained silent. She took the black bishop he had mistakenly placed on her side of the board, held it to her mouth and, in boredom, held it between her lips as she began to talk again.

"Hey, look at me."

He moved only his eyes in her direction.

"I have a bet." she said. "How about we don't play chess, we'll play a guessing game. I'm thinking of a number between 1 & 20, you have two chances to guess, if you guess correct, I'll give you a reason not to feel bad about the whole thing."

"Okay...11"
"Maybe."
"...What do you mean maybe? Is it or is it not eleven?"
"It probably is...take your second guess and I'll probably tell you if either of them are right."
"...What kind of game is this? And what reason are you trying to give me?"
"I don’t know, and...I don't know. Maybe you should choose your second number..."
"...seven."
"Seven?"
"Yes, Seven."
"7/11!"
"Yes my numbers are seven and eleven now are either of them the number you had in mind?"

She slowly pulled the bishop from between her lips and placed it firmly on the table.

"Maybe."

He began to get up

"You know what, I don't have time-"
"No no don't leave, stay here, I'll leave, but before I do..."

She pulled an old receipt from her pocket and began to write on it, after she was done she slipped it to him, and as she left she finished.

"...there's your reason."

As she walked off he hesitantly opened the receipt:

Your lucky number was 7.
Your reason is at 4320 11th St.
Think about it.