Check-Mate

CHAPTER 5

Elijah’s POV

"Make sure the internal temperature is exactly 165 degrees, Elijah. If you ruin this chicken, you’re ruining my reputation," Katherine warned, grabbing her car keys from the ceramic bowl by the door.

She looked more alive and animated than she had since landing back in the country last week.

"It’s a chicken, Kath, not a space shuttle launch," I replied, keeping my eyes glued to my phone screen.

I leaned back against the marble kitchen island, crossing my ankles to project a casual indifference I didn't entirely feel. Secretly, I was wondering who could possibly be worth this much theatrical fuss.

"And besides, who are these people? You’ve been talking about 'The Prodigies' all morning like they’re some legendary underground cell."

"They were the only thing that kept me sane in high school," she said, checking her reflection one last time in the hallway mirror. "Brilliant, sharp, and totally unfiltered. Especially Kaisha. That girl has a mind that moves faster than most people can blink."

Kaisha.

My thumb froze right over the glass. My chest tightened with a sudden, sharp prickle of disbelief.

There weren't that many Kaishas in our university circle.

My mind immediately mapped a path straight to the girl from Section E—the absolute hurricane of a student who could never seem to cross the threshold of a classroom on time, yet always managed to be the absolute loudest person in the hallway.

No. No way, I thought, a sudden spike of sheer, nervous amusement hitting my chest. My sister’s high school 'chess legend' couldn't possibly be the exact same girl who walked straight into a low-hanging tree branch while staring at her phone yesterday afternoon.

"Kaisha, huh?" I asked, keeping my voice flat and neutral to avoid sparking Kath’s overactive instincts. "Common name."

"Not this one," Kath laughed, pushing the front door open. "Just finish the roast. If we get back and it’s dry, I’m telling everyone you still sleep with a nightlight."

The heavy mahogany door clicked shut, enveloping the kitchen in a sudden, ticking silence.

I turned the oven light on, staring through the glass at the sizzling bird, but my brain was working overtime on a completely different puzzle. Part of me was entirely captivated by the irony.

The idea of Kaisha Lopez—my daily administrative headache, the girl I’d been quietly observing for a week—being a master strategist was almost too rich. I pictured her running down the corridors, hoodie usually half-zipped, her dark hair a beautiful, chaotic mess from sprinting against the clock. She was unfiltered energy personified.

But then I recalled the sharp, fearless way she’d barked back at me in the café. 'I was present-adjacent,' she had argued, chin tilted up defiantly. Most underclassmen stumbled over their words when the Student Council Vice President pulled out an official attendance log. She didn't. She looked me dead in the eye and pushed right back against my authority.

I pulled out my phone and opened the chat log.

Unknown Number: One more late or absent mark will officially affect your evaluation, Miss Lopez. Be on time tomorrow.

Sneaking her number from the CSC database had been a breeze. When Dela Cruz handed me her atten6dance sheets, looking like he was about to drop her from the course, I knew I had to step in. Her grades are completely in the red, and if someone doesn't wake her up, she’s going to trash her junior year. I’m just doing my job as VP. Right?

Who am I kidding? It’s not just a duty. There’s something about her chaos that I can't look away from. She's completely real in a sea of people wearing masks. I don't want to see her fail. Honestly, I just wanted a reason to shake up her world a little.

But keeping it a secret is too much fun. Watching her scan the hallway this morning, totally paranoid that some ghost professor was haunting her, was the absolute highlight of my day.

The crunch of tires on gravel broke my train of thought. Outside, voices filtered through the evening air. One was Menchie’s—calm, predictable, and polite. The other was that unmistakable, bright, melodic laugh that usually echoed through the school corridors by 8:00 AM.

I smoothed down my casual grey t-shirt, ran a quick hand through my hair, and braced myself. Play it cool, Elijah, I told myself, feeling a rare, heavy thud of anticipation in my chest. Don't let her see that she surprised you.

When the door swung open and our eyes locked, the absolute shock on her face made every single minute of the wait worth it. Her jaw dropped slightly, her eyes widening as if she’d walked straight into a trap. She looked like she’d seen a ghost, or maybe just a highly attractive nightmare.

"Eli?" Menchie and Kaisha gasped in perfect, stunned unison.

Kath looked between us, her eyebrows knitting together in genuine confusion. "Wait. You guys already know my brother?"

"Brother?" Kaisha choked out, the syllable sounding tight and entirely overwhelmed.

I seized the opening, letting a slow, familiar smirk spread across my face as I leaned casually against the doorframe. The upper hand was mine again.

"We've met," I said smoothly, letting my gaze linger on Kaisha’s flushed face. "She's the one who's usually 'present-adjacent' to my block. Though she was surprisingly early today."

"You never told us your brother was Elijah Kian!" Menchie accused, turning her glare to Kath.

"I told you I had a younger brother!" Kath laughed, clearly delighted by the chaos. "I just didn't realize he went to the same school as you."

"BTW, I'm not boring, Kath. I'm efficient," I corrected, finally walking toward them. I stopped a mere two feet from Kaisha, noting the subtle vanilla scent of her perfume.

"Dinner’s almost ready. I hope you like your chicken well-done, Kaisha. I'd hate for you to be late to class tomorrow because of a stomach ache."

She narrowed her dark eyes, her competitive spirit flaring up in a second.

"I'll be fine," she snapped, though there was a lovely, frustrated tremor in her voice. "I'm becoming quite the fan of early mornings lately."

"Is that so?" I mused, taking the salad bowl from Kath. "We'll see how long the miracle lasts."

The rest of the night was an absolute whirlwind. Seeing her sit across from a chessboard was like watching an actress shed a heavy costume. The clumsy, frantic girl disappeared entirely. She moved her pieces with a cold, terrifying, and calculated precision that made my pulse race faster than any council meeting ever could. When she aggressively slid her bishop across the mahogany table on move twenty-five and whispered, "Checkmate," I stared at the pieces in absolute awe.

She looked up at me, eyes dancing with a triumphant, brilliant sparkle.

“Okay. I stand corrected,” I managed to say aloud, keeping my tone light and defensive. I gave her an appreciative nod, forcing my usual smirk to hide how thoroughly impressed I actually was. She was a different person behind this board—sharp, focused, and completely captivating.

By midnight, the expensive red wine Kath had insisted on pouring had turned my fierce little shark into a sleepy, defenseless kitten. My sister had already surrendered to the alcohol, retreating upstairs after slurring, "Clean... command of the captain... clean the mess."

"Yes, your majesty," I had sighed, picking up the empty wine glasses.

Now, it was just the two of us left in the quiet living room. Menchie was pale, gripping the edge of the sofa as the room clearly spun for her.

"Eli... help," Menchie groaned, her voice straining as she tried to lift her friend. "I can't... I can't carry her. Everything is spinning."

"Take her to the guest room," Menchie managed, pointing down the dim hallway before suddenly clutching her stomach. "I’m gonna... I’m gonna go to the CR. I think I’m dying."

"Don't die on the rug," I muttered as Menchie bolted toward the bathroom to puke.

I turned back to the sofa and carefully slid my arms under Kaisha's shoulders and knees, lifting her into my chest. She was incredibly light, her head naturally lurching forward to rest against the crook of my neck.

The warmth of her skin and the soft, warm puff of her breathing against my bare collarbone sent a sudden, sharp tremor straight to my gut. Holding her this close felt dangerously intimate, shattering the last bit of my carefully built composure.

I carried her down the hall into the guest room, the distant sound of Menchie's bathroom struggle fading away. I laid her down onto the mattress as gently as humanly possible, trying not to disturb her. But as I pulled the thick duvet up to her shoulders, she shifted against the pillow, her brow furrowing into a tiny frown.

"Eli... matches the standard..." she slurred, her voice a soft, thick mumble in the dark room.

I froze, my hand still gripping the edge of the blanket. My breath hitched completely. "Standard?" I asked quietly, leaning down, my ears closer to her lips, trying to make out the slurred words.

"But so... arrogant," she grumbled, her nose scrunching up in that fiercely adorable way it did when we argued. "That smug... VP face. Thinks he knows... everything..."

A low, soft laugh vibrated in my throat, a wave of genuine warmth replacing my tension. I shook my head, staring down at her. Even completely unconscious and heavily intoxicated, she was actively finding ways to break through my defenses. She was the absolute only person on earth who could call me arrogant and make me want to pull her closer at the same time.

I stayed there for a long moment, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest. She looked peaceful like this—stripped of her defenses, completely honest, and utterly beautiful.

Yielding to an impulse I hadn't planned or calculated, I leaned down and pressed a brief, feather-light kiss to her forehead. Her skin was warm, sending a sharp, sweet ache straight through me.

As I backed away into the shadows of the room, a heavy, suffocating wave of realization finally hit me square in the chest.

What the hell is happening to me? I thought, my hands slightly trembling as I reached for the doorknob. My calm, structured world hadn't just been breached—she had completely upended it. My heart was hammering a frantic, violent rhythm against my ribs, and I couldn't even summon the energy to pretend otherwise.

I felt entirely exposed, stripped of the cool indifference I spent every single day maintaining. It wasn't just a fun distraction anymore. The sudden, overwhelming weight of how much I was actually falling for her hit me like a physical blow. It completely terrified me. I was losing my mind over a girl who barely knew me, and she didn't have a single clue.

I slipped out of the guest room, closing the door behind me with a soft, decisive click, the echo of my racing pulse louder than any tournament I’d ever played.