Ace of Spades Sneak Peek(50)
Friend …
You should come over.
I should.—B
See you soon.
Throwing my phone down, I hurry around my room, shoving clothes in my closet and looking around for imperfections before rushing downstairs to the kitchen, where my mom is now chopping and my dad is next to her, blending.
“Belle’s coming over,” I tell them.
Dad looks up. “Who’s Belle?”
“Pretty blonde who came over last week,” Mom says before I can.
“Ah.”
They glance at each other, doing that thing where they have their secret soul-mate meeting without speaking.
Mom laughs. “So true.”
“Mom, Dad, can you stop talking in each other’s heads for a moment? Am I allowed to order pizza now that my friend is coming over?”
“Why can’t she just eat efo, like we are?” Mom asks.
The truth is, I don’t want to make Belle uncomfortable—which I feel bad for even thinking, because it’s not like I’m ashamed of being Nigerian …
“Honey, what if she can’t handle the spice?” Dad says.
“Ah … she’s an oyinbo. I forget not every oyinbo can handle spice like you.”
“You bet I can.” Dad’s arm wraps around Mom and I look away, erasing this moment from my brain.
“Chiamaka, the efo is almost ready. I’m sure your friend will love it.”
* * *
“That was really nice, Mr. and Mrs. Adebayo,” Belle says.
Dad looks at me, his thoughts seeping through his expression like, See what we told you!
I roll my eyes at him with a smile.
“Okay, so Mom and I will tidy up; you guys go and hang upstairs.” Dad is doing his I’m a cool Dad, I promise voice.
Belle follows me to my room, where she immediately takes a seat on my bed comfortably, like we’ve been friends forever. I like that there isn’t the need to be too weird around each other—even though I’m still scared my room isn’t clean enough.
Her Camp Niveus shirt glimmers under the dull lighting of my room. It’s burgundy and the silver ring of the camp logo stands out to me most, reminding me of the way Jamie’s used to when he wore it, and her ripped jeans are frayed in an awkward way that distracts me from why she’s here in the first place.
“So … Pretty in Pink…”
Belle’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts, and I realize I’ve been staring at her way too long.
I sit down on my bed, opening my laptop up. “Prepare to have your heart broken.”
“And if it doesn’t break?”
I raise an eyebrow at her.
“If it doesn’t, you’re not human and this friendship is over.”
“Okay, but do you have enough tape to fix me if I am broken?”
My stomach flips and my heart does its thing.
Belle’s face goes really red. “That was incredibly cheesy—sorry.”
I shake my head. “I’m used to cheese. Every movie in my top ten—if you discount the Marvel films—should be renamed Cheesy Movies one through ten,” I say.
She smiles at me, her cheeks still flushed—it is quite cold in here, I should probably offer to turn the heat up …
“I would never peg you as a rom-com girl, Chi.”
Jamie said the same thing to me once. I’ve spent so long building up an image of myself at school—an indestructible two-dimensional mask—that I forget sometimes it’s only me who sees behind it, sees who I actually am.
I love chemistry, biology, and physics so much I could marry the subjects and have this huge polygamous family, and I love all those criminal science investigation shows and films about mutants, but it doesn’t mean I can’t also like sappy things like The Notebook and When Harry Met Sally.
“I like happy endings,” I tell her.
Her smile turns into a grin.
“Me too,” she says.
19
DEVON
Monday
I’m lost.
Reason being, I decided to listen to Chiamaka fucking Adebayo.
After detention on Friday, she attacked me again and forced her number into my phone, and then sent me a message this morning to meet her in lab 201—wherever the fuck that is.
A hand grabs my arm and I almost scream. My heart’s near to exploding as I swing around, only to see an annoyed-looking Chiamaka.
“You’re late.”
Think I don’t know that?
“I didn’t know where lab 201 was.”
She doesn’t seem impressed, and I don’t think I really care. I want Aces to stop, I want Dre to speak to me again, and I just want to get into Juilliard and be done with Niveus.
She pulls me into a random room—lab 201, I guess—and I’m met with a lanky guy seated at a desk with a laptop opened up.
She hits my arm. “Give him your phone.”
I look at her, hoping she feels the dagger I’m mentally throwing.
“Why my phone? Why not his or yours?”
Chiamaka gives me the look my ma gives me when I give her lip.
“Peter doesn’t have a phone—which is shocking, especially for a tech guy, I know. He’s already got my phone, but because I don’t get the blasts about me, we need your phone too. Is that okay with you? Or do you need me to explain again, slowly?”