Ace of Spades Sneak Peek(17)



And then, like always, he kisses me. I wrap my arms around him and I feel him smile into the kiss, eagerly bringing his hand up to cup my face, moving me toward his bed. I ease my arms away and pull back, resting my head on his gently.

“I came to talk, Dre, not do that.”

“But I like doing that,” he says, kissing my forehead.

I try not to smile. “I have school, and I need to talk to you about something else.”

He nods, moving back now. “The picture of you and that guy? Scotty, right?”

His words catch me off guard, making my heart stutter. Dre knows all about the rich kid from my school who broke my heart. But how did the photo travel so fast? It’s barely been two days. I was going to ask him if he could try to bury it before anyone else saw it. He’s good at burying skeletons. I think it’s partly why no one bats an eyelid at the fact that I’ve been coming around three or four times a week for the past couple of months. He tells his boys to mind their business, and they do.

I nod. “How did you find out?”

He doesn’t say anything at first, just watches me.

“I got a message about it…”

What?

“From who?” I ask, my words tumbling out.

Dre shrugs. “I just got the picture with the text, nothing else. There was no ID.”

I start panicking, thoughts spiraling. Is Dre the only person outside of school to get that message, or does everyone in the neighborhood know about it? Are they talking about me? Planning to get me like they did before—

Andre takes my hand and squeezes it, pulling me in again and away from the mental hole I was falling into.

“I think I’m the only person who got it. No one else is talking, so you’re good.”

I’m not convinced. News that can travel from Niveus to my neighborhood this quickly could still reach people here. My ma could easily find out, and I can’t have that stress right now.

“I’ll deal with it,” he says.

“Deal with it how?”

Deal with it could mean anything. It could mean finding a way to get rid of problems—including Scotty, who for some reason I’m worried about now. Dre and his gang like sorting things out with their fists; it’s how you get respect around here most of the time. You fight, someone films it, word spreads, then people back off—probably the reason I was such an easy target in middle school. I couldn’t fight anyone, even if you paid me. My arms and legs are practically noodles.

I’m scared for the day Dre fights someone to prove a point and he’s the one who gets hurt in the end.

He rolls his eyes. “Not gonna hurt your ex, don’t worry,” he says.

“Okay, thanks,” I tell him, pulling back, but he stops me.

“Just—” He looks at me seriously. “Don’t let anything else get out. I have a boss to answer to—he won’t like you being here if he finds out.”

I nod, wanting to reassure him, even though I’m not exactly sure how I can stop something that’s out of my control. His boss is this older guy in our area. A guy who trusts people like Dre to do things for him, no questions asked. I’ve only seen him a handful of times, but I’ve heard enough to know that he isn’t a good person.

There’s more silence.

My face naturally pulls into a smile. It’s funny when Dre tries to be serious. It makes him look like he’s got a stomachache or something.

I move closer, leaning in again to kiss him. I’d bet on my right hand (my dominant hand when I play) that he’s smiling now too. I miss this past summer when I was over at his place every other day, sharing moments like this. Moments when the world would fall away, all our problems would dissolve, and it would be just the two of us.

“Love you,” he says quietly, pulling back.

I pause, looking up at him for a few moments, locking this memory away for later. For when I’m up at night and my brain is filled with worries and doubts, and I need the reminder that someone loves me.

“Love you too,” I tell him, feeling warm inside.

I’m hoping Aces doesn’t take that away from me somehow.



* * *



Because I get to school early, there aren’t many people around, so it isn’t as bad as what felt like hundreds of faces judging and whispering in the crowded hallway yesterday. Maybe I should start coming to school earlier all the time, especially since it seems I’m not walking over with Jack at the moment.

I take some blank music sheets from my locker and head up to my first-period music class, where Mr. Taylor is, as usual, by his piano—which is basically his desk. Sometimes I come here instead of registration. Registration is all done electronically anyway, so Mr. Taylor says it’s fine and marks me in.

He nods at me with a friendly smile and I head off to my corner, switching the keyboard on, plugging my headphones in, then closing my eyes and picturing blue.

Bzzz.

My heart sinks as I reach into my pocket.

Don’t let anything else get out. Dre’s words ring in my ears.

[1 new message from unknown]

Just in. Looks like Chi’s not so sweet. Sources say she got caught trying to steal candy. Careful, Chi, don’t want a record Yale will see …—Aces

My heart settles a little.

Chiamaka Adebayo, a thief? Why would she need to steal anything? Like almost everyone else at this school, she probably has enough money in her piggy bank to buy two sports cars and still have some left over to last several lifetimes.

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