Nicole had been the best chess player at Pecan Grove Middle School for almost two years. She had a folding board with felt on the bottom of every piece, a notebook full of openings, and a habit of finishing games before her opponents had finished their snacks.

So when a sixth grader named Josh sat down across from her at the first club meeting of the year, she barely looked up. He was small, and the sleeves of his hoodie hung past his fingers. He moved his first pawn without seeming to think about it at all.

Twenty-five minutes later, Nicole's king was trapped in a corner, and she could not see how it had happened.

"Good game," Josh said, holding out his hand. Nicole shook it quickly and began putting the pieces away, though nobody had asked her to. Her face felt hot. Around them, other players had stopped their own games to watch.

That night she replayed the game on her kitchen table, move by move, from memory. Near the tenth move, Josh had given up a knight for no reason she could understand. She had taken it gladly. Four moves later, the trap had closed.

He had let her take it. He had wanted her to.

At the next meeting, Josh was setting up a board by the window when Nicole walked over with her notebook. She did not sit down right away.

"That thing you did with the knight," she said. "Can you show me?"

Josh looked surprised, then pleased. He pushed the board an inch toward her side of the table.

"Only if you show me how you finish games so fast," he said. "Mine take forever."

Nicole laughed, and this time she pulled out the chair.