"Checkmate." Spencer's jaw dropped as the woman sitting across from him beat him at chess for the second time today. He could always see five moves ahead, but when she played, it was like she knew exactly what to do to throw him off.
"You have got to be kidding me." He said, licking his lips and pushing his king down with a small sigh. "Why did I play you again?" He looked up to the girl and examined her once more. It was obvious to him why he had no qualms about playing her; she had dirty blonde hair and hazel eyes, a soft demeanor and a quiet voice. She didn't look at all the type to dominate at a game of chess – maybe checkers – but not chess. Upon speaking to her however, it seemed that she had a vocabulary that rivaled his and a book of statistics printed on her eyelids. If anyone could have been Spencer's clone, it was this woman.
"I think you played me because I fooled you with my cute, meek voice," she announced, grinning. She was right.
"I didn't even catch your name," Spencer said while he packed up his marble chess pieces. "I'm Spencer but most people call me Reid." He looked up and held his hand out for her to shake. His cheeks were red at the thought of how rude he had been to not introduce himself earlier. He hoped she wouldn't take it the wrong way.
"I'm Harper. Most people call me Harper," she grinned and shook his hand. She had a nice handshake and a pretty name, he thought. "Like Harper Lee?" Spencer asked with a quizzical look.
"My mother's favorite writer. She would read me a chapter of a book every night before I went to bed. She thought it would be the best time to get my knowledge in, I guess. I didn't ever hear books like Green Eggs and Ham or Hop on Pop. It was always To Kill a Mockingbird or Catcher in the Rye or the like." Harper sighed and ran her fingers through her hair.
Spencer put his chess materials in his messenger bag and looked at Harper again. "Do you maybe want to get coffee some time? We seem to have a lot in common and I don't really have many people who want to talk boring literature or statistics with me." He was rambling he knew it but the word vomit was flowing. "I mean, you don't have to if you don't wa—" Harper had placed two fingers on Spencer's lips and she was grinning. "I'd love to, of course. Can I call you?"
"Um, yeah," he mumbled behind her fingers. When she finally moved them, he could feel the blood rushing to his ears again. He rummaged in his bag for one of his business cards and handed it to her.
"Great. I'll call you soon. Bye, Spencer," she said and turned to leave the park. Spencer was rooted to the spot; he had never blatantly asked a girl out with a positive response. He saw her turn to look at him before going through the gate and disappearing behind a corner. He stood there for a couple more minutes before his phone beeped. He looked down at it – It was time for a new case.