𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍 | Sophia Harmon has always felt like an outcast, ever since she was little she felt like she was the odd one out - her blonde hair contrasting with that of her sister's and mother's. When she and Beth lost their mother, the gir...
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[ Sophia's POV ]
"YOU READY?" I asked, my feet tapping against the pavement anxiously as I stared at the doors we were about to walk through.
Beth slowly nodded her head, a determined look painting her features "you?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at me.
"You know me, Beth," I smirked as I placed my hair into a ponytail "I'm always up for a challenge."
The past week that had led up to the chess competition had been oddly normal. I was still trying to get used to everything that was going on in my life. I had spent most days hanging out with Andrew and I had to admit - he was growing on me.
We had gone out twice in the past week, and things had been going smoothly. I refrained from telling him about the chess tournament. I wanted it to be something that Beth and I could share together, without anyone else being involved.
I had also met a girl in my English class that I had taken quite a liking to. Her name was Mila Sanchez and we had been assigned seats next to each other on my second day. She was nice, but not the kind of nice that you get tired of after a while - I could be myself around her.
"Alright," Beth spoke up "let's go."
I quickly followed after her as she walked into the building of our high school, our steps echoing through the halls as they sounded against the floor.
We were immediately faced with a table in which two men, who didn't look to be drastically older than us were seated, charts in their hands. Above their heads, the words "WELCOME to the KENTUCKY STATE CHAMPIONSHIP 1963" were written in bold lettering.
Beth was the first to walk up to the man, with myself following closely behind. One of the men looked up from the papers in his hands and handed each of us an inscription form before he averted his gaze once more.
"Do either of you have a clock?" he asked.
"No," Beth answered curtly.
"We have a clock sharing system, if your opponent doesn't have one come back to the desk and we'll loan you one," he explained "play starts in twenty minutes. What's your rating?"
Beth and I lifted our gazes from the papers in our hands to look down at the man. Out of the corner of my eye, I met Beth's gaze for a slight moment before looking back to the front.
"We don't have ratings," I shrugged.
"Have either of you ever played in a tournament before?" he asked, eyes narrowed.
