Ace of Spades Sneak Peek(22)

“Why did Microsoft PowerPoint cross the road…? To get to the other slide—”

My first instinct is to grab the heaviest object I can find and lob it at Jamie, but instead I interrupt with a dry laugh. My eyes briefly catch Belle’s and my stomach turns again, before I smile at Jamie.

“Good to see you’re still recycling your dad’s favorite jokes,” I say. I press pause on the film, wanting their full attention before starting it, and move back into my place next to Jamie.

“You have a nice home cinema,” Belle says. I can’t read her face like I can read Ruby’s and Ava’s.

“Thanks,” I reply without looking at her, my mind more focused on trying to see if the room is secretly ugly. This room is my safe space away from the loudness of the world. I sit here for hours sometimes, watching movies alone in the dark, clearing my head. Mom and Dad had this built for me years ago, and I decorated it myself. The ceiling is black and filled with dozens of lights. It kind of looks like stars in the universe, which is what I was going for. There’s a soft gray carpet and there are three rows of armchair-sized cinema seats.

I like this room, and if Belle doesn’t, she can leave. The door is that way—

“You know, Chi used to have a massive Winnie-the-Pooh teddy but threw it out because it clashed with the persona she was going for in sophomore year,” Jamie says.

“Oh yeah? What persona was that?” Belle asks.

I smile tightly at the two of them. Thank you, Jamie.

“There was no persona, I just outgrew Winnie—”

“She told me herself; she needed to seem more like Blair Waldorf and less like Meg Griffin,” he continues.

“I had a Winnie phase too … Outgrew it when I was seven, though,” Belle says.

Jamie laughs, and I’m tempted to kick them both out.

“I think we all outgrew it before high school. Chi’s just special—”

“Movie’s starting, time to shut up now,” I say, pressing play abruptly. The hum of the characters’ voices quickly fills the space between me and the lovebirds. I try to concentrate on the start of the film, but in the corner of my vision, I see their hands join, and her head drops to his shoulder, throwing me off.

“Should I get some blankets?” I ask.

Jamie nods, staring at the screen intently. “Only two, Belle and I can share one.”

My heart plummets to the bottom of my stomach as I stand to grab the two blankets from the back closet. All plans for a future with Jamie are disintegrating before me. This evening was meant to remind Jamie of how suited we are for each other, not make him fall further for Belle. Why can’t he see that? I want to throw the blanket in his face.

“Here,” I say, handing Jamie the blanket. He mutters a “thanks,” already engrossed in the movie, so Belle reaches up for it. Our fingers brush together and I release the blanket quickly.

My heartbeat switches from faint to strong and present.



* * *



“Same time next month, and forever?” Jamie asks at the door, like he always does. A younger, smilier Jamie had asked me that after our first day discovering Marvel and its wonders.

“Your place?” I ask. He bobs his head, his curls echoing the movement.

“Need a ride home?” my mom asks from behind us. I almost swear. I hate it when she creeps up on me like that.

He shakes his head. “I brought my car, but thanks, Mrs. Adebayo.”

My mom always smirks when he says our family name. I’m not even facing her, but I can feel her expression. It’s because he says it wrong, like everyone always does, saying “Ayda-bay-O” when really it’s “Adeh-by-oh.” But, oh well.

Jamie pulls me in for a hug, his arms wrapping around me, his nose brushing my forehead lightly. Usually this would excite me, but there is something so dull about it right now.

“See you,” I say to him.

“See you, Chi, Mrs. Adebayo.” He says the last part with a nod.

“See you, Chiamaka and Chiamaka’s mom,” Belle echoes as her hand joins Jamie’s. They both walk off; I look away.

The door closes and I turn to my mom, surprised to see her braided hair done up in a bun and her face made up.

“Going somewhere fancy?” I ask.

She nods with a wink. “Date night with your dad before he leaves for Italy.”

Dad goes to Italy once a month to visit Grandma—who loves to remind me of the weight I’ve gained each time I see her. He used to go a lot less, taking Mom and me with him whenever he did. My parents used to live there before they came here. It’s where they met, in med school somewhere in Rome. I used to think it was the greatest love story of all time until Mom told me why we had to stop going. Dad’s family aren’t huge fans of Mom … or her dark skin. And by extension, me and my dark skin.

And that’s fine. I hated going anyway.

“Was that Jamie’s new girlfriend?” she asks.

My chest squeezes.

“Mm-hmm,” I respond, focusing on the wall.

“She’s pretty.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” I say.

The words She’s pretty echo through the house and my mind. “I’m going upstairs now, Mom. Have a nice night.”

Mom’s smooth hand touches my arm before I leave, reminding me of so many years of being tucked in, and the tight, constricting hugs only Mom can give. I look back at her, her dark skin bright and her brows furrowed.