Checkmate - Chapter 34: Chapter 34

If there was one thing Andromeda regretted, it was lacking the courage to speak up. Remembering all those times where she didn't, like the time where Professor Oakley's words had no filter, where Tosca was leaning towards the wrong path.
She didn't even mutter a single word when Tosca continuously hurt her, and most importantly she didn't speak up when she and Tosca hurt Hana.
Andromeda had always gone for the best, but she knew these past few days were short. And Althea has set a truth bomb when she scolded her.
It was funny to think that someone younger than Andromeda had the courage she lacked all those years.
The same words kept repeating in Andromeda's daily thoughts and it even kept her up at night. It was like a chant, a mantra. Perhaps her own way to mentally prepare for a decision she had to make.
Unable to sleep as she lied on the sofa, Andromeda reached for her phone whose bright light ignited as soon as she swiped it open. It was midnight, though lately, time did not seem such a big deal to her unless she has to go to work.
Andromeda tried to remember how the day had gone by—slowly, surely. If not for the clock on her phone and the day marked in the calendar, she would have thought that it had been years since Hana was terribly hurt and had left her, disappointed and betrayed. In fact, it was just a few days, or something close to it.
And when she would sleep, she would hear someone laughing. It was so familiar and on second thought, she realized it had been just a distant memory flashing through her tired mind. The sleepless nights must have made her delusional.
Andromeda knew she was losing it. Of that, there was no doubt, but it seemed almost appropriate at that time.
When morning came, she sat on the sofa lost in thought. As if her shower thoughts still hasn't finished even as she sat there fully dressed and ready for work. She glanced at the cup of coffee resting on the desk near her home camera and tripod and sighed.
She grabbed her coffee, finding it lukewarm, and downed it all in one go.
Today was a long day, the fact that Headmistress Mariam listened to her suggestion to partner up with Althea and Hana got her feeling a little progressive in mending her torn relationship with her student. She just hoped that Hana will get the boost of confidence that Andromeda didn't get to have.
Andromeda wanted to visit Hana and be there for her as the Japanese girl attend her lessons with her former mentor. Professor Oakley's course can be a bit too much, speaking from her experience; albeit, in the end, she decided not to go. Hana had plenty of support from Althea and she was sure that Hana wasn't ready to see or forgive her just yet.
Hana needed time and time she will have. Tosca, on the other hand, had too much time. It's now or never.
Andromeda left the University after a day's work, evading the other senior Professors to escape their favors and requests. They would task her for being young and it annoyed her to no end. She knew what she had to do and that is to finally have a conversation with Tosca.
She went to her vehicle that was parked far away from the entrance. Her hand swiftly started the engine. The car revved deafeningly for a good two seconds before it jerked forward.
No more regrets. No more misunderstandings. No more cowardice.
For the sake of everyone involved, Andromeda knew what she has to do.
Andromeda arrived after two hours of driving with all the traffic at the coast of Dorset England. She parked her car nearby and let herself in after punching the code at the door. She walked into the dark-colored house and found that nothing has changed since the day she last visited.
The door to the art room was open so she let herself in. She found Tosca sitting on the parquetry floor, slurping on cup ramen. The painter still has not heard of Andromeda come in, she seemed to be in a daze. Especially with a messy room like hers with cluttered paints and brushes, wrappers of snacks and store-bought Bentos, and crumpled papers and spilled inks all over the floor.
Andromeda took that information to her advantage as she turned around to take a look at the finished and unfinished canvases, especially the one where Tosca was seemed to be fixated on.
The pale light coming from the sky beautifully emphasized a rocky coast and the figure of a woman who stood on a cliff, contemplating a scarf that flew farther and farther from her. Her hands rested next to her body as if she had let it slip away from her on purpose. She had short red hair, pale skin, and wore a white dress. She was barefoot. There was a house in the background and albeit darker, Tosca could make out the shape of a long unbrushed lilac girl watching the odd display from her room, confined by the curtains that framed the window.
"Hello, Tosca," Andromeda said.
Tosca's head snapped around and realized it was her. She stood up to greet her with a deep scowl. "What are you doing here?" she sounded less hostile than the last time Andromeda saw her. Well, at least, she wasn't while speaking with her.
"Well, it's a pleasure to see you too," Andromeda said.
"The pleasure is all yours," Tosca said, dropping her finished ramen cup on the floor. "Who invited you here?"
"I let myself in."
"Damn it, I should have changed the security password." Tosca reprimanded herself before looking back at her. "Why are you here, really?"
"I wouldn't be here if I don't deem it important for you," Andromeda said,
"Is that so?" Tosca said.
Andromeda looked at Tosca, who finally tore her gaze away from her artwork to give me a small nod. "Please stop doing that, Tosca," she said sternly.
Then Tosca's turquoise eyes glinted when they drifted to her red ones. "Why don't you get to the bottom of this, Andromeda? I have a lot of work to finish."
"You might need to sort out your priorities," Andromeda said, throwing a chin to point at the room's mess. "What I have to tell you is a lot to take in."
"Okay, let's talk. Not here though."
Andromeda was reluctant to go at first, but Tosca came to escort her out of her art room into the foyer. Tosca showed her to the sofa and gestured for her to sit down. Then she took a seat on a bean bag nearby.
For a few long minutes, they didn't talk.
Andromedasilently cursed herself for that minimal burst of courage without the slightest chance of finishing what she came for. She goaded herself to better make it to the end or she will end up losing face. She tried to notice other things, the hem of her pencil shirt or her pump shoes, or the coffee table.
"You have anything to eat?" she asked rather shyly.
"What?"
Tosca just smiled as she observed her. The Italian woman's staring strangely didn't feel scary at all. It didn't even give Andromeda the slightest discomfort. It was more like a curious friendly person looking at her and knew there would be no harm because the angry outbursts days ago were a thing of the past.
"Andromeda, can I ask you to cook for me? It's been a while since I had a decent meal." Tosca rubbed her tummy to indicate that Andromeda heard her right. She was hungry despite the ramen cups.
"Oh!" Andromeda blinked. "Well... umm, I can fix you a sandwich if you want."
Tosca raised a hand with big eyes. "It's alright if it bothers you."
"It's nothing," Andromedareassured her and smiled at her back, recalling their past together. "I'm good at making snacks. I like to do it all the time."
Tosca grinned and nodded. In fact, Andromeda was grateful for the task as she finally had an excuse to do something rather than sitting still so she can gather up her new courage.
They got up and went to the kitchen. Andromeda opened the fridge, but to her surprise, there wasn't anything left in there, except a few fresh zucchinis, one egg left in its package, some cherry tomatoes; leftover baked potatoes, and other leftover prepackaged salad with cheese.
"There's nothing here except for these," Andromeda said apologetically, turning to Tosca. She checked the cupboards and found she didn't have any snacks left. "You really should go buy some groceries tomorrow."
Tosca gave her a smile and a shrug. For some reason, it broke Andromeda's heart to see that. It was like she had disappointed Hana when the Japanese girl asked for some cookies then finding out there's no more left.
Somehow, Andromeda decided to do something out of the egg. "Well, you know what, how about a poor imitation of Italian frittata instead?"
It took Andromeda several minutes to cook the starving painter an egg dish filled with other leftovers from the fridge. She finished it off with a sprinkle of soy sauce and olive oil.
When she placed the meal at the table, Tosca stared at Andromeda's invention in amused curiosity. Afterward, she grabbed her fork and took one piece from the plate.
Andromeda watched as her companion crunched down on the piece, the sound echoed in the quiet room. Tosca swallowed and took two more and gobbled them all. In just a moment later, she polished off everything, even the sauce. Andromeda brought her a cup of tea and poured herself some too.
"That was my only decent meal since breakfast with everyone two days ago."
"Tosca," she said with a low growl.
"Don't worry, I'll buy some groceries. I promise." She took a careful sip from her cup. "Can you tell me now why you drop by all of a sudden?"
Andromeda didn't respond for a few long minutes. Tosca thought she didn't hear her.
"It's about the Ainsley Fine Arts Competition. Hana and Althea are the University's representatives."
Exhilaration and thrill flooded Hana, tending to overflow as Althea drove towards their meeting place with Professor Oakley. But when they got there, there was a small event occurring. It was after three on a school afternoon but the park had a bunch of kids sprawled all over the grass. Their parents were hanging around on benches and picnic areas.
"I wonder what this little occasion is about," Althea told her. "And it's a weekday."
They found Professor Oakley was cozily sitting on the gazebo where Hana saw her lover play chess with her childhood friend.
"Professor Oakley!" Hana yelped, her DSLR in her hands, ready to shoot at an instruction. Hana was smiling the biggest smile she had smiled in days. A soft, warm feeling filled her up, infusing her body with its addictive bliss. "What's the first lesson, I'm ready!"
"There's a photography contest being held here for everyone." Professor Oakley said. "I want you to join it as well."
"Eh?" Hana murmured. She was not aware that her first lesson with the greatest art Professor would be that kind of a challenge.
"Come," Professor Oakley said, a small smirk forming on her lips. "I will come with you to the organizers."
The Professor was leading the way and Hana watched her pace away. Finding herself rooted to the spot, unprepared to be shoved into a fight. Althea took a step, only to feel a tug on the arm her lover was grasping, engaging her slowly to move forward.
"It will be okay, Hana," Althea reassured. "Give them all you have got."
The photography contest, to say the least, isn't what Hana expected at all.
When Althea and Hana got to the booth where it was being held, about a dozen people were already there. Most of them, however, are children, brandishing their own phones and cameras.
Hana blinked and trying to see if her vision was simply playing tricks on her when a lady with the most beautiful black curls approached them. "Hi, I'm Amani. Are you folks here for the contest?"
"Yes," Professor Oakley said to the organizer. "I want my girls to join."
"I'm joining too?" Althea gasped while Hana looked around the area at the little kids talking and running around.
"Oh," Amani muttered. "Aren't your girls a little too old for that, though?"
Professor Oakley grabbed a folded paper from her pockets and showed her. "The flyer said anyone could enter."
"Right," Amani chuckled, she was not sure if she should be embarrassed for what she said or be embarrassed for Hana and Althea when they were being signed into this children's contest.
Professor Oakley was signing the papers in the girls' stead like an insistent grandmother to two 7-year-olds.
"Well," Amani said, glancing at Hana and Althea. "Take a seat over there, girls. We've still got ten minutes until we start."
When the host left, the couple stared at Professor Oakley like deer in headlights. "You cannot be serious." Althea began. "You have gotten us into a contest made for children, and you expect us to break children's hearts by winning."
"It is still a contest. You cannot deny its legitimacy over the fact that it is merely for children." Professor Oakley said with a chuckle. "You might learn from them."
"But—"
Hana pressed a finger to Althea's lips when she pressed on her futile attempt to stop to rationalize with the old woman. "We are already here, Althea. The damage had been done."
A thick silence descended upon the space between the two girls.
"Besides," Hana added. "Professor Oakley might be right. We have been working our bums out on being perfect; maybe these kids will offer us a much innocent and enjoyable insight. Children, after all, have great imaginations."
"You took the words right from my mouth, dear. Most children have their imaginings subdued as they get educated in reality and become members of society. Children with imaginations not subdued become artists."
"My apologies, Professor," Althea said. "But you mentioned before that you will only take one student at a time and that your lessons are very secretive. Why am I included in this?"
"I promised Miss Yoshida you would able to be with her, Miss Lancaster However, this is not the first lesson at all. Merely a recollection of Miss Yoshida's previous lessons and it also serves as an icebreaker. We still have months before you two have to start working on your submission to that Ainsley Fine Art Competition."
"How did you know about that Althea and I were—" Hana did not even finish her question before the enigmatic Professor answered.
"Do not take me for an old loony. I know you two will somehow get into the shark's competition."
"What?" Althea asked. "What do you mean by a shark?"
The corner of the Professor's mouth curled into a smile of secrecy she cannot spill. Maybe it's the way her lips curled up that adorned her stern and regal face that gave Hana the impression.
Hana tugged on her lover's hand impatiently. She wasn't sure why Althea wanted to talk about
Professor Oakley's name callings instead of heading over to the grass to sit among the children. They found a perfect spot where it was spacious enough for them. Hana shifted a little in her seat, pulling at the end of her shirt so it covers the previously visible part of her stomach. She noticed how Althea's gaze lingered at her exposed tummy.
"You're gay," Hana teased, prompting Althea's features to redden.
A screaming child ran by them, but Althea's eyes remain glued to her face. "I know."
Hana's jaw clenched. Althea inched closer to her—way too close for a family-friendly environment. All of Hana's senses sharpened. The familiar, strong scent of perfume wafting from Althea's neck made Hana wrinkle her nose. She held her breath.
She allowed herself to exhale. The lady from before gave them a look and she wiggled her brows indicating she obviously knew what Hana and Althea meant for each other but doesn't say anything. The next few minutes consisted of the noises from the annoying children, Amani and a few other store employees tried to calm them down. Althea busied herself, looking through her phone leaving Hana to ponder about how many photos will she have to make before she's well-known not only around here but nationwide.
She caught Althea looking up from her phone to glance at her occasionally and about to ask her what she's thinking when Amani went to the front of the small wooden platform they made for the event and asked everyone to quiet down.
"Everyone, we're about to start," she said, repeating it a few times until the noise stops. "Take a seat."
The kids sat their bums down on the grass, their whispers eventually fading.
"Thank you all for your patience and for joining this competition. We all gathered here today for
our love of photography and as you can see... there are many beautiful things around you, all for you to practice your skill. But here's the catch! You can't take photos of anyone. If you still stubbornly submit a photo with someone in the background, you will be disqualified! Are we clear?"
There was a collective of nods and barrels of yes from the children.
"Alright kids, you're going to have an hour to roam around and take the best picture you can submit to us. Remember, only one photo!"
Hana's breath caught in her throat. An hour was barely enough time for her to make visualize or make a sketch of her photograph, let alone shot something decent. She won't be able to figure out ideas in just an hour. She roamed her eyes around. The kids all had their little cameras ready. Some of them were only using their phones and some even had DSLRs or Polaroids.
"Don't lose sight, Hana." Althea nudged her back to reality.
"Oh crap, now what do we do!" Hana buried her face into her palms.
"You and I aren't partners." Althea's face was masked in competition mode, although she still looked sweet in her ever intimidating smugness. "We are competitors remember?"
"Oh yeah," Hana chuckled, before hesitating. "But you don't have a camera?"
"If you lend me yours, you can give me 15 minutes then I'm done."
"What?" Hana gawked. She wasn't sure if she would be amazed or horrified at what Althea said. "Just 15 minutes?"
Hana watched the way Althea nodded and loved the way Althea's curls bounced off her shoulders. "If you would gladly lend it to my darling, but no pressure, I can use my phone."
The question of how different and similar she was to Althea sprung to mind. Though it never left, just pushed back in her head due to focusing on more pressing matters. Althea was a painter and Hana was a photographer—all in ways different but genuinely the same. Painting and photography are often considered similar when it comes to artistic expression. They complement and contrast each other all too well.
A painter is always imagining, always obsessed with expressing their inner vision in tangible form. The journey can take hours, days, months, or years. Althea is the type of person that sticks to schedule and planning.
A photographer works at a much faster pace, mostly in fractions of seconds. Photography is spontaneous like this event, with less preparation for the artist.
Yet for some reason, Hana questioned why she and Althea seemed to have changed their outlooks. Had they stolen each other's personality traits?
"And I'm sure you all want to know about the prizes." Amani continued, bring Hana out of her reverie. "The one who captures the best picture will get a free Polaroid camera brought to you from our sponsor for this event. There will also be two other winners, and they'll get a 50-pound gift card each for our store." She smiled at the eager faces of the children. "You all ready?"
"YES!"
"Okay then, begin!"
There's shuffling and commotion as everyone ran around in opposite directions. There were yelling, pushing, falling, and the desperate sound of Amani's plea.
And Hana was just frozen. Not having even thought of what she's going to take a photo of. Althea slowly took the camera from Hana's hand and caressed her cheek.
"Formulate a plan, Hana," Althea whispered. "I will return after 15 minutes."
Hana's brain went into overdrive with words and images and all sorts of different colors. She caught a glimpse of Althea leaving to take a photo of something in the distance.