White skin. Searing pain in my stomach.
Her piercing scream. Numbness in my hands.
So much blood.
31
DEVON
Monday
I’m sitting on Terrell’s bed, chest aching, as he stares at me.
“So, let me get this straight.” Terrell has his mad scientist look on his face. “Every ten years, you think they’ve been admitting two Black students, letting them settle in, then screwing them over and trying to ruin their lives?”
I nod.
“And who is Aces?”
“A whole bunch of people at school—students… I saw a list of names—names I recognize.” The memory of Jack’s name sends pangs all over my body. “And I think the teachers are involved too.” Mr. Taylor’s laugh echoes hollowly in my memory. I’m still freaked out. “They all seem to have tasks. And they do this until we have no choice but to drop out, I guess, our futures ruined, or I don’t know… worse.”
“Fuck.” Terrell moves off the bed and sits in front of his old battered computer screen. “Ever researched your school?” he asks, typingNiveusinto the search engine. Bullshit is on the table next to the mouse, staring at me like I’m invading his space. Maybe I am.
“Well, yeah, kind of, when Ma put me up for the scholarship, but not properly.”
“Did you knowniveusmeans ‘white’ in Latin?”
I shake my head; of course it does.
Terrell types inNiveus Private Academythis time, then hits enter.
“These people are slick as fuck, but not that slick,” he says, his voice quiet as he concentrates on the screen. “It’s almost like they want you to find this shit. Like they’re proud of it. I mean, right here it says that the school was founded by some of the biggest funders of slavery—popular plantation owners, merchants and bankers who financed operations. It’s all here, you don’t have to go looking too far.”
My head swims and I zone out, the shock making it hard to process it all. Terrell goes on about the school’s founders, but I close my eyes, thinking about the money Ma put into that school, just to get me through. All for nothing. We have struggled every day, every fucking day, and it won’t mean a thing.
“Von.”
I snap out of it and look at Terrell.
“Hmm?”
“The school was founded in 1717. Isn’t it more than coincidence that the computer they use to do all this shit on is computer 17?”
Yeah…
Coincidence…
My heart beats fast as I look at Terrell, his hair jolting as he types, focused.
“Terrell,” I say cautiously. “How did you know that?”
He looks at me. “What? That the school was founded in 1717? It says it right here.”
I shake my head, organs shaking, mind shaking, everything shaking.
“How did you know about computer 17? I never told you about that.”
He pauses, and then dimples appear as he shrugs. “You must have told me.”
