TileHopper

"TileHopper"

BlackRook25:   Good game as usual, TH!  You came really close to beating me this time.  Great job with the pawn structure in the early game.   Just a few oversights in the mid-game that could have been avoided if you were more patient.

TileHopper:   Thanks for playing with me.  I had a great time, too.

BlackRook25:  No problem.  Care to chat a bit, or are you in a hurry?

(She hesitates before replying.  A good chance to end the small talk and just go on her way.   But she remembers something her therapist had told her a week ago:  “You shouldn’t be afraid to let your guard down, even with perfect strangers.  That’s how you make friends.”  At the memory of that word – “Friends” – she can’t help anxiously biting her lip.  Ever since her two best friends in the world moved away, got engaged, and settled down together, she’s been having a hard time meeting her own social needs.  And it’s really a matter of missed opportunities, more than anything else.  She feels a little ashamed at every memory.  Not to mention, she’d been a pretty lousy friend herself.  What kind of friend turns down her own best friend’s wedding invitation?  After being asked to be in the bridal party, no less.

She shakes the thought out of her head.)

BlackRook25:  Are you still there?

(“Don’t let your bad memories rule over you.  Big or small.  Old scars or new.”  More words from her therapist.  She still wonders whether the wording was intentional.  He didn’t seem to have realized what he’d said at the time, and he might have mistaken her emotional response for something other than what it was.)

TileHopper:  Sorry, I got a phone call.

BlackRook25:  Oh that’s okay, I thought maybe I scared you off.  :)

BlackRook25:  I was just looking at your ChessLand profile.  So you’re into reading?

TileHopper:  Yeah.   Mostly novels.

BlackRook25:  You listed “Life of Pi.”  I love Canadian literature!  Do you read a lot of Martel?

TileHopper:  No, not really.  Just that one.  I haven’t seen anything else by him in translation.

BlackRook25:   Oh, that’s right, you’re Japanese.  Well your English is really good.  Maybe you should try reading it in English.

TileHopper:  Thank you.

(She deliberately puts an abrupt end to the chat about books and opens up her profile in a hurry to see what else is on there.   Her handle, “TileHopper.”  A picture of her kitten as the profile picture.  And a brief list of her interests.  Never had she expected anyone to actually look at what she’d put up here.  Which is silly, of course.  She’s looked at his profile even more times than she’s spoken to him.  She takes a calming breath and closes her eyes to collect herself.  “You shouldn’t be afraid to let your guard down.”)

BlackRook25:  Is that your cat?  It’s cute.

TileHopper:  Thank you.

(The same reply twice in a row?  She sighs.  What if he thinks I’m boring?  Or that I don’t want to talk to him?  She closes her profile and clicks on his to bring it up.  It’s the same old profile that she’s peeked at so many times in the past when she’s been playing chess with… well, she’s not sure what his name is.  She looks at his photo and it makes her blush.  A demure, goofy-looking young guy, not your typical idea of “handsome” but with an undeniable charm about him.  The picture is of him with a few friends at the Louvre in Paris.  Dressed in your typical tourist gear, with shorts, sunglasses, and a messy hairstyle that’s either styled to look that way or just happens to.  He reminds her of someone.)

BlackRook25:  I can understand why you wouldn’t want to put your real picture in your profile.  You’d probably get a hundred friend invites a day, huh?

(She frowns.  Why is he bringing that up?)

TileHopper:  Haha.

(What to say?)

TileHopper:  I don’t have any pictures on this computer.

BlackRook25:  That’s okay.  I was just kind of wondering what you looked like.  I mean, we’ve been chatting for a while and it would be cool to put a face to the name.  You don’t have a webcam?

(Of course she does.)

TileHopper:  Can you hang on for a minute?

BlackRook25:  Sure, no problem.

(She clicks on her Start menu and opens her laptop’s built-in Web Camera program.  The one she used to get a picture of her cat, and the one she used to take pictures of herself thanking her friends for remembering her – the day the computer arrived in the mail, as a birthday gift.   She looks at the gallery of photos of herself, smiling and waving hello.  Her smile looks so genuine.  That picture was taken over a year ago, though.  Was she really that happy?  It’s hard for her to remember.  That was before things went bad.  Before she ruined everything.)

BlackRook25:  Hey, listen, I hope I’m not weirding you out or anything.  Just we’ve been chatting for a long time now and we’ve got a lot in common.  I really like talking to you.  And since you know what I look like, I thought it would be fair for me to at least see a picture of you.  If you don’t want to, that’s totally fine.

(She doesn’t reply.  The red light on her camera comes on and her face flashes onto the screen.  She faces the camera, keeping her eyes glued on the image.  It occurs to her how much more tired she looks than she did in that old picture.  Less pretty.  But that picture is out of the question.  She takes another deep breath, and from the way her voice shudders, she realizes that she’s trembling again.)

BlackRook25:  Anyways, let me know when you’re back.

(She faces the little black camera lens on her laptop, and gradually rotates her head to the right.   “You shouldn’t be afraid,” she thinks.  She reaches up and combs her bangs down over the right side of her face, and moves her shoulders to the right a bit so that she’s in half profile.  Perfect, she thinks.  Click.)

TileHopper:  Sorry, just another minute ok?

BlackRook25:  Yeah of course, I’m not trying to harass you.  I’m not going anywhere.

(She goes to the image gallery to look at the photo.  In the low lighting, her features are mostly obscured, particularly the right side of her body.  She scans it for any telling details, anything that might still be peeking out.  But she sees nothing.  All she sees in this picture is an ordinary, tired young woman.  Her long, dark hair draped over her shoulders.  Glossy, pursed lips in a timid half-smile. The way her indigo eyes are not making contact with the camera gives the appearance that she’s averting her gaze.  Her heart starts beating a bit more quickly.  She notices how fair her skin looks.  How smooth and nice.  Her lower lip starts to tremble.

She looks beautiful.)

You have signed out of ChessLand chat.

(“You shouldn’t be afraid,” the voice comes into her head again.  Don’t be terrible to people, she tells herself.  Don’t keep running away from affection.  She clicks the Login screen again).
Please enter your username and password.

(She types.)

Username:  TileHopper
Password:  Hisao