Ace of Spades

by Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé

I feel like I’m in a nightmare.

  “You don’t scare us; we’ve recorded it all, and it’s being broadcast across America,” I say.

  “Is that so…? Where are the cameras?” Headmaster Ward asks.

  I glance back out into the sea of Aces. There’s still no sign of Ms. Donovan or her camera operator. What is going on?

  “Alice, is that true? Are these two heretics going to destroy us all?” Headmaster Ward continues, turning to the crowd as one of the masked people removes the scary white mask from their face, revealing a smiling Ms. Donovan underneath.

  No.

  “Fuck…,” Devon whispers.

  Fuck, I think.

  This can’t be happening. How is this possible? How is she involved?

  I remember Belle’s words, when I’d confronted her on Monday.

  … it’s not just Niveus; there are places all over the US that … that do this.

  Central News 1 is a part of it.

  God knows who else.

  We need to get out of here, I think, just as I hear a low rumbling sound. Footsteps and people yelling.

  I step back as the doors of the hall burst open and all of a sudden a rush of people swarms in. Outsiders. They’re chanting something, but I can’t make it out from the stage.

  Some climb on the tables, kicking the expensive china. Others are simply screaming and blasting music from phones and speakers in their hands.

  Protesters?

  I finally make out what they are saying. “No justice, no peace.” Over and over again.

  So many brown faces, disrupting the ocean of white.

  They are all so angry.

  I think they are fighting for us.

  I look at Devon and his eyes are wide.

  Before I can do anything else, I feel a large hand grab me, dragging me away through the curtains. I glance back, trying to break out of this powerful grip, and that’s when I feel cold metal pressed to my forehead.

  A gun.

  43

  DEVON

  Thursday

  There are protesters everywhere. Loud music breaking up the quiet. People screaming.

  It’s chaos. But even stranger, I don’t think I have ever seen this many Black people, ever, outside of my neighborhood.

  I’ve definitely never seen this many Black people in Niveus. All these years, it was just me and Chiamaka.

  People are here fighting … and they seem to be fighting for us.

  I didn’t want to be right about Central News 1. I wanted them to be good. But something I’ve realized is that very few things in this world are good.

  I turn, expecting to see Chiamaka next to me, but there’s no one there. I feel a little panic, the same panic as when you lose your ma in the supermarket when you’re a kid. I hear a noise behind me and I turn, walking toward the entrance we came through. I see two figures. As I get closer, I see clearly.

  Standing by the doors is Chiamaka. She looks horrified, frozen in place as Headmaster Ward presses a gun to her head.

  I freeze, watching my ex-headmaster, who’s moments away from shooting Chiamaka.

  I shakily step toward the thick curtain, trying to draw it back without him noticing. If I act quickly, maybe I can push him off, grab the gun, stop him from doing anything.

  A part of me wonders if this is what happened to Dianna Walker. The first girl Aces targeted, back in 1965. What if … they killed her?

  Ward starts saying something to Chiamaka, but I only make out the words classroom and move. Chiamaka looks terrified. I have to stop him. He moves her toward the door, his hands gripping her arm tightly.

  I swallow, pushing the curtain a little, only stepping through halfway. Chiamaka looks at me briefly.

  He backs her up a little more, then reaches out to touch the door handle but quickly jolts back.

  I take this moment to charge toward Ward, barging into him, hoping it makes him tumble. Only I didn’t expect him to be this strong. He stumbles but doesn’t fall.

  He turns to look at me, disgust written across his features. There are screams in the background and people chanting.

  I notice Chiamaka edging toward Ward.

  “What did you do to Dianna?” I ask, breathing hard. “Did you guys kill her?”

  Chiamaka takes something out from her bag.

  Ward raises an eyebrow. “Why don’t we see for ourselves?” he says, raising his gun to me now, just as Chiamaka sticks something in Ward’s neck. He freezes up and falls to the ground, the gun dropping with him.

  Chiamaka grabs his gun with a handkerchief and slides it away from him.

  I’m breathless.

  In her hand she’s holding some kind of stun gun.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, partly wondering where she got that from.

  She wipes her eyes. “Yeah. We need to get out of here.”

  I nod and we walk through the curtains, jumping back when a loud boom sounds.

  I look up. Smoke spills from the ceiling.

  Wait … smoke?

  People are looking around too, searching for where it came from.

  My heart beats fast, and just as I grab Chiamaka’s hand, there is another explosion.

  I instinctively duck.

  Then, as if we are in some disaster movie, parts of the ceiling break apart, wood falling from the sky.

  Holy shit.

  Screams start to fill the air. Chiamaka grabs my arm, pulling me toward the exit. We push through crowds as everyone attempts to escape, the smoke wrapping around the ballroom.

  When we finally stumble through the doors at the front of the room, there is even more smoke in the hallway. People are covering their mouths, coughing, running, desperate for any escape.

  We’re running so fast, I almost fall a few times, tripping over Chiamaka’s long dress. More explosions sound as we burst out through the entrance to the school, racing down the steps and into the cold fresh air of the evening. I cough, feeling out of breath and disoriented.

  My breath looks like a ghost as wisps swirl out of my mouth, before disintegrating into the air.

  I look up at Niveus, once this tall, looming building, now crumbling before me, scorched by angry red flames.

  It’s weird. I don’t think about it until this moment. But when it does register, when everything finally sinks in, the most obvious thought occurs to me.

  The school is on fire …

  Niveus Academy is burning.

  44

  CHIAMAKA

  Thursday

  We finally get outside and watch as Niveus goes up in flames.

  There are sirens in the back, firefighters rushing inside the collapsing building. It sounds awful, but a part of me wants to laugh.

  Even the most powerful can be brought down. And we’re all witnessing it.

  We can all see the great Niveus Academy fall. At last.

  “There are people in there … There’s no way they’ll make it out okay,” someone says tearfully nearby.

  I wonder how the fire started … if it was an accident. Who started it?

  I feel my chest tighten.

  I wonder if any of the protesters got stuck.

  I chew my bottom lip, freezing when a thought crosses my mind. Terrell standing there in the audience.

  Was he real?

  Did I imagine him?

  I hope I did … God, I hope I did.

  I look at Devon. He looks out of it—in this trance, staring up at our old school.

  “Devon,” I say quietly but loud enough for him to hear.

  “Yeah?” he replies monotonously.

  “Where is Terrell?”

  “What?” he asks, turning to face me now, looking sick.

  “I saw him inside … I think … Did he come? Was he here?” I ask, hoping he says no.

  But before he can reply, another explosion erupts, and a large chunk of the roof collapses.

  45

  DEVON

  Thursday

  My mind flashes back to
Terrell telling me about his involvement in this.

  Terrell’s here.

  He’s in there.

  I feel sick.

  I have to go to him.

  I don’t know what is carrying me, but I find myself running toward the building.

  It’s my fault. It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have left him.

  I feel Chiamaka dragging me back and I start calling his name, like he’ll hear me inside there.

  The flames grow, eating Niveus alive, and I want to scream.

  “Terrell,” I yell.

  No answer, as expected.

  I can’t lose him too … I can’t lose any more people. I feel weak, like I’m about to fall—

  “Devon?” someone says. I’m almost positive it’s in my head.

  I turn back and Terrell’s there. Right there in front of me, with a matching worried expression on his face. I feel so relieved, I run over to him and pull him in for a hug. Forgetting everything that’s happened. Just hugging him tight, so happy he’s okay. He holds me close and I bury my face in his shoulder, tears falling.

  I really thought I’d lost him there. Thank God, you’re okay, Terrell, my thoughts whisper.

  I can feel his heart hammering.

  After a few moments I pull away, wiping the tears from my cheeks. “I thought you were inside,” I tell him.

  “I’m okay,” he says, his eyes focused on Chiamaka and not me. “Glad you guys both are too.”

  “Really thought you were gone,” Chiamaka says, wiping her eyes. I’m surprised by that. She hardly knows him, yet she’s crying like she was about to lose her good friend. What surprises me even more is her hugging him now.

  Sirens wail in the distance and I turn toward the sound. Ambulances are parking next to the fire trucks.

  “We should head back before the police arrive,” Terrell says.

  I nod.

  “You’re right.”

  The last thing I want to deal with is any police officers.

  * * *

  We end up in Terrell’s bedroom soon after.

  He sets up a makeshift sheet-fort and gives us something to change into. I’m wearing one of his Superman shirts and sweats. Chiamaka told her parents that she’s okay and she’s staying at a friend’s. She’s now wearing a plaid set of PJs that Terrell apparently owns, even though I’ve never seen him wear anything so normal, other than his outfit from earlier tonight.

  We all sit in the fort talking about tonight—the protesters and the fire and the shady journalist. I refrain from saying I told you so. I knew it was too good to be true, too easy. I knew we shouldn’t have trusted another stranger. Niveus can buy anyone, of course they can.

  We should have known that. But at least we do now.

  At least there’s that.

  I’m just so exhausted. I’m ready to sleep forever, but we stay up till one talking. We conclude that the protesters were probably there because of my tweet, and the message I sent about the ball. I hope none of them got hurt. Without them, I don’t know if we’d be here right now.

  Maybe Ward would have finished what he started.

  “What do you think started the fire?” Chiamaka asks.

  It looked serious. They’ll need to rebuild a lot of the buildings.

  I shrug. “Could have been anything,” I say.

  “Does this mean it’ll be closed down?” Terrell asks.

  “Probably,” Chiamaka says.

  We sit in a somber silence for a few moments.

  My mind turns over what might happen to everyone now … What happens to Mr. Ward … Aces. Whether this will all get buried in the aftermath.

  As if Chiamaka is reading my mind, she murmurs, “Well, I’m tired. Going to head to bed … Where is your bathroom, please?”

  “Down the hall, to the left,” Terrell says.

  She steps out of the fort, leaving us alone.

  Silence.

  “Can we talk?” Terrell asks.

  I nod, because with Terrell there is no getting out of talks. He’s up front and likes to confront everything in the moment. Or so I thought. Because he hid this well, for weeks.

  “I’m sorry. The last thing I’d want to do is hurt you. I was never going to completely go through with it. I would never hurt you, ever. I told the guy that.”

  “Okay,” I say.

  He looks nervous. “Do you hate me?”

  I look at him. As much as I want to be mad, it’s like there’s something about Terrell that prevents me from being mad at him. I feel hurt, but I don’t hate him. I don’t think I could.

  I shake my head. “I don’t hate you,” I say.

  “Thank you for not hating me,” he says.

  “It’s okay,” I reply.

  I don’t know if things will be okay right away, but I can tell they will be eventually.

  There’s a weird sound in the distance and at first I think it’s Chiamaka, but then Terrell pushes himself up.

  “I need to feed Bullshit, he gets cranky when I delay his meals.”

  “I don’t think your cat likes me,” I say, leaning back a little.

  Terrell raises an eyebrow. “I think he doesn’t like sharing me. He’ll warm up to you.”

  I find that hard to believe. His cat looks at me like it wants me dead. If it wasn’t completely impossible, I’d be convinced that Bullshit was in on the whole Aces thing too.

  “Doubt that,” I mutter.

  Terrell smiles, which makes me smile back, and then we just stare at each other in silence for a few moments. Terrell breaks eye contact first, pushing his glasses up as he stands and moves out of the fort. I can hear him speaking to Bullshit, scolding him for interrupting his conversation.

  I take out my phone, searching for reports of the fire, worried about who might have been caught up in it. I wonder if Jack came.

  I scroll. The reports don’t say much. Just that there was a fire at the school; an unknown cause.

  I look up again, at Terrell in the hallway pouring food into a bowl. I watch him, stroking his cat as it eats the food.

  He moves away and ducks back into the fort again, sitting opposite me.

  “Cat food smells like crap,” I say, wrinkling my nose.

  Terrell laughs. “Thank God we don’t have to eat that, right?”

  Chiamaka returns with a scowl and her arms crossed as she walks toward us.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Where am I sleeping?” she asks.

  “You can have my bed. I don’t mind sleeping with Devon here,” Terrell says.

  I feel really hot, but I ignore the way his sentence sounded.

  Chiamaka smiles. “Thank you, Terrell,” she says, before climbing into his bed like she probably intended on doing anyway, whether Terrell said yes or not.

  “Guess that leaves us with the fort. Want me to get any more pillows or blankets?” Terrell asks.

  I shake my head. I’m good.

  I lie back first, staring up at the sheets strung above me, ignoring Terrell and his proximity when he lies down too.

  We lie there in silence and I start to feel a little drowsy. From the combination of today’s stress from the ball to just being emotionally drained anyway, I find myself drifting a little.

  “Stargazing?” Terrell asks.

  I turn to him, looking confused. “What?”

  “You’re looking up pretty intensely—thought you were searching for stars in my sheets,” he says.

  I nod. “I was … Millions of stars in the sky tonight,” I say, pointing up at nothing.

  “I see them … I know some of the names for them too, you know.”

  “Enlighten me,” I say, watching as Terrell gets comfortable and looks up.

  “That one there is called Tupac, named after the legend, of course. Scientists were like … that star is mad bright, let’s name it Tupac—”

  I burst out laughing and Terrell smiles at me.

  “Maybe you should consider a career in teaching people how to B
S,” I say.

  “Maybe I should,” he replies.

  We spend the rest of the night like this. Talking, Terrell joking, making me laugh.

  The last thing I think before sleep catches up with me is:

  No more Niveus …

  No more Aces.

  46

  CHIAMAKA

  Friday

  The news has been playing on Terrell’s TV since I woke up this morning.

  Terrell is seated on the floor, drinking coffee next to a sleepy-looking Devon. They’re both watching in silence as the screen shows the remains of Niveus, as well as footage from last night’s fire.

  They report that a faulty electrical circuit caused it, that it was an inevitable tragedy.

  It all feels like a really messed-up dream, but it really happened.

  Our school burned down.

  I sit now, with my own cup of coffee made by my new friend, Terrell, watching the news with them.

  I feel a lot of relief seeing that building go up in flames. It feels like the perfect ending to this saga.

  Niveus Academy reduced to ashes.

  Bold graphics flash frantically up on the screen.

  CASUALTIES CONFIRMED AS THE BODIES OF THREE STUDENTS FOUND AT THE SCENE

  People died?

  That news makes me feel a little sick. People at Niveus were all part of this racist machine, but I knew them. It’s hard to not feel a little sad for people you knew and interacted with for years.

  The first face pops up, a photo from the school yearbook. I feel a punch in my gut.

  “CeCe…,” I say quietly.

  “You knew her?” Terrell asks.

  I nod.

  “She was a popular girl at school,” Devon adds.

  A popular girl.

  “I wasn’t that close to her. Honestly, she was kind of a bitch to me,” I say. Though it’s not like I was ever that nice to her either, and it doesn’t make me feel any less sick to my stomach.

  CeCe and I were one and the same. Both smart, willing to do a lot to protect our titles, wanting to be on top.

  And now she’s dead, forever resigned to being a popular girl at school and nothing more.

  Another face pops up, and it’s someone else I’ve seen around.