Brown Bear Nation Welcome to the Brown Bear Episodes. Sit back, relax, read, view, and possibly enjoy the post-grad saga of a girl with no shame and a whole lot of heart.

Preface: This is a short piece I’ve reworked several times over the semester. I think it finally came together and I’d like to know what you think. It is a creative nonfiction piece based on my relationship with an ex-friend of mine,  As of right now, I’m actually working on revisioning it to make it more authentic to that particular moment.  ENJOY? lol

Checkmate

“Do You Realize - that you have the most beautiful face, Do You Realize - we’re floating in space, Do You Realize - that happiness makes you cry?” I look up from my white knight and queen to see my best friend, Quinn, mouth the Flaming Lips to me as it plays on his Mac book, obviously trying to distract me. “This song always gets me,” he comments as he smirks while running his fingers through his platinum blonde waves and leans back in his chair. I peer at him over my glasses, throw up my middle finger, and return to strategizing. I cannot be defeated; I will not be defeated. I am Bobby Fisher and chess is my bitch. Yet, I’m currently getting handled and if I don’t move my queen and let him take my knight, he’ll have me in check. “Shit.” I hit my hand on the small game table situated in the center of his bedroom. Then, I save my king by moving my queen, and surrender my knight. He sits forward and rubs my hand in mock comfort. “Calm down, chipmunk. We both know that resistance is futile.” He lifts up his arms like he’s Moses about to part the Red Sea and in a whisper he says, “Just let it happen.” He chuckles to himself before making his move thus eliminating my faithful knight with his arrogant bishop.

Beyond this unfortunate loss, I visualize an end to this game so I pretend to be more aggravated than I am. “You shut your mouth when you talk to me,” I retort with an eyebrow raised and a bitter smirk. My concentration returns to the board and the five pieces I have left against his eight. He’s never beaten me before and this cool November night will be no exception. In two quick moves, I corner him and the tables are turned.

“It seems I’ve got you again, Batman. So what will it be, death by queen or death by rook? He moves his king over and slowly brings his sky blue eyes to my cocky brown ones.

“By her majesty, if you will.” With my right hand, I move my queen and with my left, tip over his king.

“I do believe I’ve won.” I deliver a toothy smile. He smiles, stands, and begins to walk to the door.

“No, on the contrary, I’ve won.”

“What are you talking about?” I blurt out as I shake my head in confusion.

“I’ve farted.” He runs for the door and closes it behind him. I turn the knob in hopes of escaping a sudden rush of heinous gas, but he’s holding the door on the other side and I smell I’m too late. “Did a squirrel crawl up your ass and die, you jerk!” I scream and bang on the door loud enough that his dad comes out of his office down the hall and inquires about the situation.

“Why are you holding her captive?” I hear Quinn laugh as he tells his dad that he’s trying to kill me with methane.  “Let her out of there, dumbass, you’ll never get her if you keep abusing her.”

“Yeah, ya dumbass, you’ll never get me if you keep abusing me.”  I mimic.  Quinn regretfully opens up the door and we’re standing face to face with his father leaning against the wall. I shrug. “Thanks Mr. Köhler.” His father begins with his usual round of questioning.

“How’s school going? Still keeping up with the Tae Kwon Do?  See that Notre Dame game?  Those White Sox this spring huh? “ I respond accordingly. “Good, as much as possible, OF COURSE, and hell yeah, sir.” He chuckles and walks back to his office.

“He always says that shit,” Quinn timidly comments as he sits down on the end of his bed, “when are you going to ask her out? That best friend of yours is just beautiful, …” He rolls his eyes as I laugh so hard I snort. “Oh, that’s attractive.”

“Shut your face!” I plop down next to him. “Yeah, my mom’s always like ‘you and Quinn are going to get married and make white chocolate babies,’ but little do they know,” I pause to close my eyes, clench my teeth, bring my right fist up, and lower my voice to sound like a man. “I loath you, Megatron, I loath you.” Immediately, a pillow flies into my face and we proceed to fight as if it’s the octagon and we’re in the UFC. Eventually, however, I manage to take him down after about 15 minutes of torturing one another with a round house to the left kidney. He lies flat on the floor, holding his side.

“You look so fluffy, but you always manage to rip me apart.”  He pokes my thigh with his foot.

“Quinn, dude, I’ve got like 12 years of training on you.” I grab a pillow and sit beside him once more. He sits up and glances out the side of his eye.

“So I broke up with Allie.”

“What? Why? She puke on your Ninja Turtles hoodie? Give you a ‘period leg?’”

“Calm down there, SuperBad. I mean she’s cool and all. I just figure I don’t actually like her as much as she likes me… I think she loves me.” He doesn’t look solemn or empathetic so I respond the way he knows I will.

“HA, You jerk, you pretend as if you’re not gonna go back out with her if you get bored.”

“Yeah,” he quickly says and laughs. “You need to stop that reading my mind stuff, chipmunk.”

“ In the six years I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you like anyone, love anyone other than yourself? Don’t be a chump. Find somebody, lose the narcissism, and just go for it.”

“So just go for it?”  He glares at me and repeats my last comment.

“Yea, just go for…” I elbow him. He shrugs and talks over me.

“I love you…” His smile reaches for a glorious response, but I tilt my head and calmly speak.

“Now, what am I suppose to do with that, Quinn?” I’d like to tell him that I feel the same because I do, but I know better. We’re not Donny and Marie (I doubt they’re just siblings). We’re Bobby and Whitney, Selfish and irresponsible. I love him; I love him as much as Whitney Houston loves crack-cocaine, like the black kid in the Sunny-D commercial loves the “Purple Drink.”  But right now, life makes “love” inconvenient.

“You and me, we’ll get there someday.” I move closer to him. “But its best if we’re rational and single for now. Plus, I want to do your dad first.” Laughing, I push him over. I know he understands. He sits up and smirks in agreement. Yet, in his smirk I sense a bit of opposition and with a quick pull of my waist towards him he leans in and kisses me.