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champion.”
    “Dad.”
    “What?”
    “Don't get carried away. There's some ass-kicking players in there.”
    “Be one of them.”
    “Easy to say.”
    Malone exits the room, followed a few seconds later by Jenna McNulty. Both are smiling.
    “Let's go in,” Mr. Mansfield says. “See what your brother is up to.”
    Zeke is frowning deeply—nearly a scowl—and is staring at his black king, which is the only piece he has left. Derek Pham has just a queen to go with his king, but he's forcing Zeke toward the corner of the board and his victory seems inevitable.
    An Asian couple is standing as close to the table as they're permitted, about twenty feet away, and beaming with pride. Pham himself is showing no emotion, but he quickly moves his queen and sits back.
    Zeke lets out a snorty laugh, gives Pham a hard look, and says, “Stalemate.” He stands up and takes a few steps away while Pham stares openmouthed at the board. Zeke is not in check, but he has no legal moves that would not
put
him in check. So the game is a draw.
    Zeke makes a big show of sitting back down and sweeping the white pieces over to his side. “Need a break?” he asks somewhat pointedly.
    Pham shakes his head and sets up the black pieces. And they start over.
    Zeke moves rapidly now, keeping a sharp gaze on Pham between moves. Pham is clearly flustered from his stumble in the previous game, and Zeke takes control of the center of the board. He wins easily, smacks his right fist loudly into his left palm, and reaches across to shake Pham's hand.
    Zeke's is the last game to finish, and the remaining players are milling around in the lobby, waiting to begin the quarterfinals. He's permitted a twenty-minute break, even if the other games begin on time.
    The new matchups are quickly posted:
    McNulty vs. Z. Mansfield
    Ahada vs. R. Mansfield
    Eskederian vs. Vega
    Malone vs. Leung
    Pham looks totally dejected, and Mr. Mansfield goes over to talk to him and his parents. Randy walks over to Zeke.
    “I gotta get a drink,” Zeke says. So they go out to the lobby and put a handful of quarters into the machine. Randy gets a Sprite.
    “I clobbered him,” Zeke says, taking a swig of Coke.
    “You nailed him pretty good. My guy was weak. No idea how he got this far.”
    “People get intimidated. Pressure, you know.”
    “Speaking of. You get Jenna next.”
    Zeke shrugs. “I'm up for it.”
    “You ever watch her play?”
    “You mean, study her game?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Nope.”
    Randy looks around, then leans in a little. “You can beat her, believe me. Let her have her first three or four moves; you'll see what's coming.”
    “How do you know?”
    “She was right next to me this morning. Burke was so weak I had a chance to watch some of her game.”
    “Oh.”
    “Just play your game, but be very aware of what she does.”
    “What are you trying to tell me?”
    “Just be aware.”
    Zeke turns away, scratching his jaw. “Like I need your help.”
    Pramod walks over with his too-confident smile. He stands next to Zeke and says, “Pulled one out of your ass, huh?”
    “He got lucky in the first game,” Zeke says, taking a half step back. Pramod always stands too close. “I showed him who's boss in the second.”
    “Pham sucks anyway. I beat him in about two minutes a couple of weeks ago.”
    “Big deal.”
    Pramod studies the fingernails of his right hand. “You get the princess next.”
    “Who?” Zeke asks.
Don't let this jerk get to you again.
    “You know who.”
    “I ain't worried.” Zeke closes one eye, holds his Coke can up to his face, and looks into it with his open eye.
    “See if you can at least make her sweat a little. Drain her concentration so she won't be too pumped when I play her in the final.”
    Randy butts in. “You scared of her or something?”
    Pramod lets out a dismissive sound, blowing his breath out through his teeth. “Not a chance.”
    “She has to get past me first,” Zeke says.
    “Right,” says Pramod.