Ace of Spades Sneak Peek(88)

Right now, what matters most is Niveus.





34


CHIAMAKA

Tuesday


I meet Devon in a rundown ice-cream bar in his neighborhood.

The place is practically deserted, apart from this random guy in the corner drinking coffee and reading a newspaper. Devon arrives after me, looking as tired as he did last night. Eyes red, hair messy, sullen expression on his face.

“Hey,” I say.

“Hey,” he replies.

I push myself up. “Still heading to your place?” I ask, slightly hopeful that he’s changed his mind and doesn’t mind walking all the way back to my house.

He nods, much to my disappointment, as we start walking out of the place.

I follow him down the path, taking in the surroundings. The houses are small and unkept, some with smashed-in windows and graffiti on the walls.

This place looks like the aftermath of an apocalypse.

We reach a house with a red door and a large 63 front and center. I wait for Devon to take out his keys, but instead he knocks, and I raise an eyebrow.

Why would he knock on his own front door?

I hear a sound from inside the house, and I instinctively step back. There’s a sharp turn of a lock, and then the door swings open, revealing a smiley four-eyed stranger with brown skin and short dreads tied back, making his head look a bit like a pineapple. His gaze goes from Devon to me to Devon again.

There’s an awkward tension in the air.

Devon steps in and disappears, walking past the stranger without a word.

There’s definitely something I’m missing here. Several somethings.

“Hey, I’m Terrell!” the stranger says.

“Chiamaka…,” I say.

He smiles wider. “I know, come on in.”

The guy moves aside to let me in, and I pause, hoping Devon hasn’t led me into a death trap. I step over some of the weeds by the entrance and walk in, through his hallway and into a small living room. The TV is on silent and some cartoon is playing. The place makes me feel claustrophobic; there’s hardly enough space to breathe properly.

Devon is sitting on one of the old-looking sofas. I take a seat next to him on the edge.

Terrell walks in and picks up the remote from the coffee table, turning the TV off.

“Welcome to my humble abode. You guys want anything? I went to the grocery store before you came, so there’s a bunch of stuff if you want, kitchen’s that way—”

“Wait, Devon, you said we were going to your place. Who is he and why are we having our meeting here?” I interrupt, growing more annoyed.

“Terrell’s my friend, he knows everything, and he’s good at figuring stuff out. I thought it wouldn’t hurt for him to help us plan. My house isn’t really guest friendly anyway,” Devon replies. Whatever that means.

If he’d just told me that, we could have gone back to my place.

“But you said we were going to your house—” I start.

“Well, I lied. Sorry,” he interrupts, leaning back now. “Can we just move on? Decide what the hell we’re doing next.”

I sigh. “After you left, I was thinking of how to take Niveus down, but after speaking to Belle, I realize they’re too powerful for us to do this alone,” I say.

“Who’s Belle?” Terrell asks.

I really hate Devon for not consulting me on involving a complete stranger.

“She’s a girl I know from school, she was in on it too … When I confronted her, she told me a bunch of things about how her family is involved, and this—Aces—is a tradition they call social eugenics. Some of the kids from our school, legacy kids, the ones with family that have old money and old power, they all go to this camp. It’s where they plan to ruin our futures, and from what she told me … Niveus isn’t the only school that does this.”

Terrell’s eyes are wide. “Eugenics?” he asks.

I nod.

“Whoa,” he says.

Whoa indeed.

“Need me to fill you in on anything else before I go on?” I ask, hoping I don’t sound too sarcastic. He’s trying to help, I guess.

“So, from what I’ve gathered and what Devon’s told me, your school accepts two Black students every ten years, then the immortal Aces target them in their final year, spreading rumors, secrets, and lies they’ve collected … until those Black students drop out. No college prospects, mentally traumatized, with their chances of achieving everything Caucasian-ville promised them crushed,” Terrell says.

So he does know everything.

“Yeah … that’s pretty much what we think is going on. Which is why I think this is something that can’t be fixed without outside help. So, I propose we go to the local news, tell them what we know, and offer an exposé on Niveus Academy. What do you think, Devon?” I ask him.

I think my plan is brilliant.

“I think your plan is stupid,” Devon says. “How can we trust anyone but ourselves after this? This whole experience has taught me that we only have each other in this fight.”

“How do you propose we go about taking them down, then? Since you want to be cynical and irrational.”

I fold my arms, waiting to hear something better. He doesn’t say anything. I smile triumphantly.