It’s been five years and I’m still learning that people don’t know what to say when I blurt out things I shouldn’t.
“Yeah, thanks,” I reply, rolling my eyes away from our table.
An earthy scent sneaks up my nose and I look up in time to catch Ace swaggering in front of our table, shoving his hat back on his head.
Bryson sucks his teeth like Lucy, but Ace is too busy pulling his headphones back over his ears to hear, or maybe he does and doesn’t care. That blasé Californian attitude is in full effect today.
“I can’t believe Coach gave me one of the librarians and let that dude have y’all.” Bryson scoffs.
“Sounds about right,” Chelsea replies. “Maybe you’ll finally learn how to read without sounding out the words.”
“Man, don’t you have one of those holy conventions to go to, throwed off Mother Teresa?”
Their voices grow muffled while I follow the back of Ace’s shirt out of the cafe. Today I can’t muster the energy to play referee between them because I’m too busy wondering how Ace would’ve responded to my embarrassing outburst.
“Anyway,again...” Bryson smacks, staring at me. “Y’all going to Splashtown or what? Quise say he chop it up with an Alpha in his journalism class that can get him pre-sales.”
Chelsea rolls her neck. “Duh, it’ll be the perfect opportunity to get myself in front of the eyes of my future sorrors. Front me the money and I’ll pay you back.”
“Fuck no, brokey. Better hit Marcus up.”
“And will!”
“Too bad he probably got you blocked, stalker.”
My eyes jolt back and forth between them. I try to hold on to their words and the last few hours I have on campus before they go back to being regular students and I go back to lie in bed with Mama.
“Phat, tell this troll Marcus only blocks me out of love.”
I pull my lips between my teeth and glance over at Bryson.
“Phat!” she hisses. “Tell him.”
His hazel eyes get big and he rolls them around. I blubber out a laugh while Chelsea crosses her arms.
“That secret language y’all have is giving very much second grade. Grow up!”
“Right after you.” Bryson sweeps his hand across the table. “Anyway, Phat, you going, right?”
I shrug. “I wasn’t planning on it.”
All the tweets and flyers on campus made me want to plan on it, but I know better. Sacrificing Lucy’s other day of the week she has off ain’t worth it—not even to experience a real party for the first time in my young life that’s feeling like an old life. That other day off is like my get out of jail free card and everybody knows that’s a card you’re supposed to hold on to.
“C’mon.” He leans over the table and pokes his finger in my cheek. “I’ll ask Ma if she’ll sit with Mama that night.”
My cheeks get warm and I pull back. “Maybe.”
He sighs, smacking his lips. “Well, at least tell me you coming to practice later.”
“Come to practice for what?” Chelsea cackles. “To see you twiddle your thumbs while Hollywood obliterates them ankles again.”
“Get your lap dog, Phat.”
I smile, shaking my head at the thought of missing out on another practice squirming against the bleachers, pretending to watch Bryson. “Nah. I close for Brandy today.”
Anything is better than spending another hour clawing at the welts on my body while Ace dances around the court with the world in his hands.
CHAPTERSEVEN
