In the ninth grade, I beat the undefeated Chess Club president by sacrificing my queen and checkmating him with my rooks. I will never forget the look on his face. Tall and reedy, Don was one of those nerdy boys who disguised their fear and alienation under a liberal layer of arrogance and superiority. Chess was his wheelhouse. Now it looked like he was going to cry. "I never saw you coming," he said, lowering his eyes.
See Part Four here.