Blades of grass poke my palms while I stare out from her blanket onto the yard. “You know I can’t stay late Tuesday.”
“Okay, hear me out. I mapped the whole afternoon out.”
“Chels—”
“Just listen! Okay, so boom, stats ends at three-thirty. We jet from campus to your house to check on Mama CeCe, change clothes, jet back to campus, and hurry to the Bates building.”
“That sounds irritating.”
“It sounds perfect!” she squeals, curling her fingers in a circle in front of my face. “We impress the girlies, get noticed, and we’ll be litty in no time.”
I pull my knees into my chest, shoving down the sunglasses I borrowed from her dresser before we hiked across campus to people-watch and gossip on the yard. Really, it’s just Chelsea gossiping while I watch for Ace. Even the thought of him strolling past me makes my thighs tingle in the places his fingers pressed into. It’s even worse than those hives he used to give me. I don’t know shit about addiction, but I think I’m in the throes of one.
“I don’t wanna be litty.” I frown.
“Ugh, is this about the money again? I told you, just tell Marcus the business office said you owe a balan—”
“Hollywood!”
My thighs start tingling again while my eyes dart around behind the glasses’ dark lenses. Chelsea keeps chirping like a little high-pitched minion and I don’t know why I expect Ace to look any different after what happened between us, but he doesn’t. He looks as good as he did before he swaggered off our front porch in Marcus’ Polo talking about he had somewhere to go. He looks as perfect as he’s always telling me I look and I’m just as bad as Brandy, so I’m drooling over his crispy lineup.
“It’s a perfect idea,” Chelsea finishes.
I nod even though I didn’t hear half of what she said. All I hear is the roaring laughter from the team as they push their phones into Ace’s face.
“They’re so loud. Probably watching that video.” She smacks her lips. “Why you ain’t tell me our school went viral for like two seconds on Twitter over the weekend?”
It hurts, but I tear my eyes away from Ace’s bright smile. “What you talking about?”
“Hello—Splashtown. Little Miss ‘I’m going to my first party but can’t tell my bestie all the tea.’”
“Girl.” I roll my eyes. “Weren’t you at a holy convention?”
“Yes, but I can praise the Lord and stay abreast of the happenings of my peers. Ain’t nothing wrong with that.”
“Bet Mother Lenola wouldn’t agree with that.”
“Her and Esther cluck like two hens. They can’t talk—”
“Okay, reel it back in. What went viral?”
“Everybody rapping to “One of One” on one of those basketball dude’s TikToks. It spread from there, to Insta and to Twitter. There was a whole debate about it on Twitter. Some girl from the SGA called everyone that had the nerve to support Ace or that song misogynistic rape apologists. Then someone called her aword that rhymes with moonfor sticking up for a white girl who’s lying for clout. Then it turned into a black versus white thing and at the end of it all, I heard Ace is messing around with somebody on campus who definitely ain’t Brandy.”
My throat closes.
“Wha—what you mean?”
“Girl what doImean? Which part are you even asking about? Shoot, weren’t you there because you keep acting like you weren’t?”
“I—yeah. I was there.”
“Okay, well, if you’re not going to give me details about what happened with you, at least spill the tea on somebody else. Was he there with a girl?”
She sounds like a babbling minion again and I’m dying for a breeze to sweep across the yard to calm my hot skin.
My eyes dash back up to the basketball team’s huddle in front of the cafe. Ace isn’t smiling anymore. He pushes Marquise’s phone away with a nudge and bumps forearms with him like he has somewhere important to be, but I know better. Even viral moments aren’t the same for him because of her—because ofCheyenne.
“Nah, Chels. I didn’t see him with a girl.” I swallow. “He wasn’t even at the party.”
