Hector

The day he’d gone down to East Side U, he did so for one reason—to see about trying out for their coveted chess team. He thought he could just go down there, show the instructors his skills, and just like that he’d be in. Unfortunately, that’s not how it worked, and with the fall semester already well underway, there was no other way he could think of getting into that particular school. So it was back to the drawing board because Hector was determined to get in one way or another.

Then something came up. In high school, Hector had refused to join what he referred to as the “nerd fest”—the chess club. Chess was another thing Abel had gotten him into. Abel played for fun and was pretty good, but he quickly realized Hector wasn’t just good but he had an exceptional gift for the game. Next thing he knew, they were on a bus to Santa Monica to play with the hard-core chess players at the chess park on the beach.

That’s where he’d met Sam, a retired, cranky-as-shit Army vet and chess grandmaster with many championship titles under his belt. Abel had taught Hector the basics. Hector had tossed in his own spin on the game, stepping it up so much he impressed the hell out of Abel. But Sam, Sam was why he was here today, why he thought he had so much as a prayer at winning a knockout tournament that would get him on the US under-20 chess team—a team that would be playing for a spot in the Junior World Olympiad later this year. Sam had trained him and taught him everything he knew about mastering the game. Most importantly, Sam thought Hector had this.

Even with all the smaller events he’d won over the years and the online tournaments he’d taken first place in over and over, Hector never thought he’d be playing in major knockout event like this. But having played and won in the World Olympiad more than once himself, Sam recommended Hector be entered in a chance to make a team that would be trying out for it. A week later, Hector was invited.

At first, Hector was hesitant. Then Sam mentioned some of the team players for East Side University chess team were already on the US under-20 team and the trainers for the school team would be at today’s event: trainers that Sam said would no doubt notice Hector even if he didn’t win. Getting noticed by them this way might get him invited on the school team. This was his chance at early admission to the spring semester. Hector wanted nothing more than for Abel to take back how disappointed he’d been with him about not taking school more seriously. He hadn’t even told Abel about today. He was hoping to surprise him.

Getting out of his truck in the quickly filling parking lot, Hector looked around for Sam. Sam was meeting Hector there and had told him to get there early. This was Hector’s biggest tournament ever. Sam had been pushing him for years to enter some. When he was younger, he’d been in a few, but then puberty hit, and once Hector discovered girls, forget about it. He already knew from his brother and some of the other guys at the gym that girls had a thing for boxers. And did they ever! Somehow he knew saying he was a chess player and won lots of tournaments wouldn’t have quite the same effect on girls as it did when he mentioned winning a bout.

Add to that, physically, because of all the training he did at the gym, he was bigger and had a lot more muscle to flaunt than most boys his age, starting very early on. So the attention he received from the female population at his school won out every time Sam mentioned a new tournament. Sitting and playing chess for hours on a Saturday was up there on his list of things he liked doing. But once the options were that or steaming up the windows of his truck for hours on a Saturday instead, the latter won hands down every time. He knew it annoyed the hell out of the old man, but certainly Sam had to understand that for any guy, but especially one like Hector in his prime, the choice was a no-brainer.

Hector didn’t see Sam’s old Volkswagen van anywhere. It was hard to miss. Although, ironically, Sam had it custom painted to look Army camouflage, it stood out like the eyesore that it was everywhere he went.

Doing a double take, Hector stared at the guy getting out of a beat-up car two spaces over. “Walter?”

Walter turned to him, at first expressionless, then he smiled. “Hey, we meet again.”

“Yeah,” Hector reached out for Walter’s guy handshake, trying to push away that still-lingering guilt that hadn’t completely disappeared even after making amends with Walter, “under better circumstances this time.”

Walter chuckled. “I know. My face ain’t being kicked into the ground this time.”

Hector smiled and motioned to the beat-up car Walter had just gotten out of. “And I see you got some wheels now too.”

“Yeah, well,” Walter shrugged, “when it’s running anyway.”

Thoughts about Walter’s car were pushed back by thoughts of the beating Walter took. “You all healed up now, though? Were your ribs okay? I remember you were hurting bad.”

Walter pressed his lips together and shook his head. “Not broken but I did have hairline fracture. By the next day, it hurt to even breathe, and I ended up in the emergency room. One had the fracture; the others were just bruised real bad.”

Hector winced. “Ouch, I’ve been punched in the ribs before but never bad enough to have anything fractured.”

“Yeah,” Walter nodded. “It was no fun, let me tell you. I was down for days.”

It still pissed Hector off that those pussies had ganged up and beat on him like that, especially since he was already down. “So those guys ever bother you again?”

“Nah.” Walter shook his head. “That school is so damn big. I don’t know if they’re avoiding me or I just haven’t run into them again.”