Ace of Spades Sneak Peek(21)



Scotty’s words hit again. He knows just how to use them. Repeating back to me the fears I fed him while lying on his bed, in his arms, vulnerable but safe.

He uses his words instead of his fists—something I’m not as familiar with. Where I come from, words are nothing and actions are everything.

I know hurting me is something Scotty wants to do. Because, even though we haven’t spoken properly in a while, I knew it hurt him that I stopped letting him get away with crap, like cheating on me and then lying about it. I know that because he also whispered dark monologues to me, about his fears and weaknesses. About how his family sees him as this huge fuckup who’ll never amount to anything. About how lost he constantly feels—something we had in common, despite the different worlds we come from.

The difference between him and me, however, is that I would never use his words to hurt him.

I watch him with a quiet disbelief. I know Scotty is a terrible person, so why am I so shocked? Why am I always shocked by people and their shitty behavior? I blink back the tears that want to escape.

I feel stuck. I wanted Scotty to be Aces. His motive is so clear. He’s the only connection I have to Chiamaka, and we’re the only people Aces has talked about so far. If it was him, it would be so much easier to stop anything else coming out.

I can’t imagine why anyone else would do this. I barely speak to people at school. But maybe there is someone else out there with a reason to want to hurt me …

A good reason.

I get this feeling sometimes that I’m forgetting stuff. Important stuff. It’s like there’s something in my memory that I can’t quite focus on—my brain just goes fuzzy. Maybe whoever I hurt is lost in my messy sea of thoughts and memories.

“Scotty,” I start, wanting so bad to tell him how glad I am now that I don’t have to see his face all the time, or trust someone who is a compulsive liar, or feel that anxiety I used to feel that he was going to tell me something like I’m sorry I did it, it won’t happen again. I love you, Von.

Direct quote, FYI.

But I don’t. Because I’m not that person. He is.

I squeeze my eyes shut now, pushing away the fears that won’t stop intruding. Of what people might think of me—what Ma might think of me—hating myself for being with him for that long. I was so stupid, not realizing Scotty was a dick way sooner. I think I’ll spend the rest of my life judging myself for ever thinking Scotty was even remotely attractive.

“Fuck you,” I say instead, before turning around, ignoring his loud response.

“You already did!”

I leave Crombie, leave the building, leave the gates, and go back to safety, where there is no Aces, no Scotty, no Jack, no annoying girls with crooked noses.

No memories that hurt to think about.



* * *



“How was school?” Ma asks as I take the potatoes and chicken out of the oven. I can barely hear her over the noise from my little brothers.

Elijah is singing some song he learned at school, and James is yelling at Eli to stop.

Ma’s question replays in my mind.

I think about her finding out, remembering the time this girl in my neighborhood came out. I remember Ma telling me how her family kicked her out. Ma had looked disgusted, muttering, “I just don’t understand.” And I remember thinking that she would never understand me either. I think about it and how this week has been so shit and how I hate school and never want to go back.

But then I look at my ma, how tired she looks, how she’ll be going out later for her night job, just so that we can live in this dump and I can go to a fancy school.

“Everything’s good, Ma. Perfect,” I say as I turn back, dishing the potatoes and chicken onto mismatched plates.

Everything’s good.

Perfect.





10


CHIAMAKA

Wednesday


Our superhero film tradition started by accident. We were fourteen, bored and uncultured. Jamie’s mom had given him a superhero-themed gift basket one Christmas and we binge-watched everything. Soon enough, it became our thing.

It’s almost sacred now, so Belle’s presence in my home cinema is basically blasphemy.

I sit here with the movie resting on my lap, since I don’t want to disrupt the flow of Jamie telling his cow story from a few summers ago. I smile and nod even though I think the story is as pointless as it was when he told me the first time.

“… And so I’m trying to convince the maid that the udders are the cow’s genitals…”

I don’t know how Belle can genuinely be interested in this story. I watch her watch him, her annoying face keeping me occupied. She’s curled up in the plush black-and-white cinema seat, her neck elongated, rosy cheeks, long lashes, really pink lips—I get why so many guys like her. She’s pretty—if you like girls like her, I mean. There’s a weird rush in my stomach, like it’s about to growl but doesn’t.

I look away and it disappears, my body probably reminding me how much I can’t stand their relationship.

“… I get in trouble because apparently, we can eat cows but not chase them—”

I clear my throat, interrupting the strange direction his story is heading.

“Movie time.” I get up and walk over to the projector at the back of the room, then place the movie in the player. I can hear Belle’s light, irritating laughter behind me as the disk sinks into the machine. I don’t want to turn back and see them acting all lovey-dovey, so I turn but shift my focus to the wall at the front, which is acting as a screen. The disk buffers, then stops as the movie credits flash up.

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