Ace of Spades Sneak Peek(37)

He’s acting like he didn’t tell me he liked me that night, and then every other night we slept together since. He told me before he left for camp too.

How will he rationalize that?

Maybe he’ll say I misinterpreted what he meant. That he didn’t mean he liked me. He meant he liked my body, my flesh, my bones—which he probably thought he could have, whether he saw us as platonic or not.

Silly me for misconstruing that.

Now everyone keeps looking at me like I have this giant red A embossed on my school sweatshirt like Hester in The Scarlet Letter.

Jamie thinks the world is his to control. That he can tell me, convince me, how to think and how to feel, like I’m some puppet. I used to believe it—get swept up in it. But it’s getting harder and harder not to see past his lies; that he’s anything other than selfish; that he cares.

“It did happen, Jamie. You can’t just make it ‘unhappen.’ Belle’s smarter than you think. She won’t believe you.”

Jamie laughs. “That’s ridiculous. Of course she will.”

“It’s not! And I’m so tired of you pretending things didn’t happen!” My face heats up. I hate the way he looks at me, so unbothered by everything. “Things like the accident.”

His eyes darken, eyebrows knitting together.

“What accident?” he asks, his tone changing, deeper than before.

That shuts me up.

He leans in close, whispering, “You should think before you open your mouth, Chi. People might start to think you’re making things up for attention.” His voice drips with venom.

We stare at each other for a few moments, his lips tugging up a little. Almost like he’s smiling at me.

No.

Mocking me.

“See you around, Chiamaka,” he says, his voice slithering back to its neutral state.

Then he moves past, and I watch his figure compress as he walks away, until it is no longer discernible. The cold in the hallway sweeps into my body.

There are moments when something happens, and puzzle pieces that didn’t connect before now fit together perfectly. Maybe the piece I’d failed to connect was the one where I thought that Jamie was any different from Ava or Ruby. That he ever really loved me or valued our friendship.

Nothing he ever told me was true. I was stupid not to have realized that sooner, blinded by the idea that someone could actually love a person like me.

Maybe what I thought was Jamie’s love was never love at all.

They say love and hate are the same, just at different ends of the blade.

I hesitate, before drawing up the list of suspects in my mind and adding Jamie’s name to the spot beneath Ruby’s.





15


DEVON

Monday


Home, lately, has been the highlight of my day.

Before Aces, I used to avoid it as much as I could. Despite how much I love my ma and my brothers, I wanted to avoid the reminders of all the bad that happened within those four walls, from my dad leaving, to my ma struggling, to having to live and sleep in the box I share with my brothers, constantly wishing for an out.

But now I run to the bad for comfort.

I walk out of the school, along the polished streets and past perfect homes, until I reach the unpolished parts of town, where I can’t afford to look down anymore.

I cross the road and put my hood up, not wanting the boys in front of Dre’s place to see me again. A lot of the pain and bruising from Friday has subsided. My eye still kills, but I can manage—plus I’ve been somewhat high on the pain meds Ma got from work. They numb everything.

Everything but Dre.

They can’t distract or make me unlive Dre breaking up with me. It doesn’t feel like we broke up—it feels like I’ve been banished. Like we can’t be friends anymore. I don’t even need to kiss him or love him if he doesn’t want me to; I just need to be his friend. But even that’s not an option.

The pain meds can’t stop me from caring about what people are saying in school either. What Aces will say next about me, and what it might do to my future.

A figure passes me, and I look up to see a familiar shaved head, pink skin, and a green backpack.

“Jack?” I say loudly, but he ignores me and crosses the street. I watch him fist-bump one of Dre’s boys, putting his backpack down as he leans against the car parked in front with them. I’d messaged him, asked if he wanted to walk home together. He didn’t reply.

Jack never wanted to associate with them when I did, and now he does.

My phone beeps.

Want to hang out?—T

I haven’t heard from Terrell since Friday night, when he asked if I was okay.

I look at Jack, who’s taken a joint from one of the guys now, his eyes crinkled from laughing too hard at a joke one of them must have told. He turns, focusing on me. I pause, rooted to the ground as a chilling smile creeps onto his face, joint hanging from his lips. I think back to the message about him doing drugs and hanging out with Dre’s boys, and how little Jack seemed to care. Maybe … it wasn’t him Aces wanted to get a reaction out of.

What more does Aces want from me? I don’t get it. They’ve successfully pushed away my only two friends, outed me at school, and made me lose the only way I could get some extra money for Ma. And for what? Surely there’s nothing else left? I’m just going to keep my head down, concentrate on my music, and get the hell out of here.