“Cecelia, thank you for taking the minutes. You’re free to go. Can Devon and Chiamaka stay behind, please.” Ward’s eyes stay on mine as he drags out each syllable, every word bursting from his mouth like dark bubbles.
Me and Chiamaka glance at each other. She has a smallI told you sosmile on her face.
I watch the other prefects leave. Headmaster Ward locks the door sharply behind them. Why does he have to do that?
He turns back.
“We have found the so-called ‘Aces,’ if you will,” he says.
What?
My heart jumps out from my chest.
Chiamaka sits up. “Thank you for looking into this, sir. Who are they?”
Ward says nothing at first. “Chiamaka,” he starts, voice low. “When you came to me, I thought it was out of genuine concern. But your ill sabotage of each other proves to me that you are not serious and that you do not deserve your titles as Senior Prefect and Head Prefect.”
The fuck?
I’m so confused. Is he trying to say that we did this to each other?
Chiamaka looks horrified.
“What?” she says.
He looks so bored.
“It has been brought to my attention that you have both been collecting defamatory information about each other. Information I discovered earlier today while looking through your personal school accounts. We do not tolerate this kind of uncivilized behavior at Niveus, and so, Devon, I’m revoking your badge for three weeks, since you have no prior record and good grades. You, Chiamaka, on the other hand, since this is your second misdemeanor this week alone, I’m afraid I will have to revoke your badge until further notice. You will both have detention every day after school—also until further notice—and thatwillgo on your record—”
Shit.
“I’m not behind this, Headmaster—” Chiamaka starts.
“Quiet!” Ward shouts, which freaks me out because his voice changes completely. “Detention starts tomorrow at four—please be prompt. You may leave.”
Chiamaka looks sick.
I feel anger bubbling inside. Juilliard will see this, and there’s nothing I can do about it because Ward won’t even let us defend ourselves. He’s made his mind up, we’re guilty. I just want to get home.
I take my backpack, unlock the door, and walk out. Hands on my back push me forward and I turn quickly.
“So it was you!” Chiamaka shouts, eyes glassy.
“Chiamaka—”
“What type of lowlife spends their time trying to ruin—”
“Chiamaka—”
“This is going to go on my record, then Yale won’t accept me, and I will be stuck at some community college where my efforts won’t even matter, and I won’t be able to go to med school.” Tears are spilling down her face now.
I feel a pang in my chest. Remorse?
“I didn’t do it,” I tell her calmly.
She looks at me in disbelief.
“Why would I leak my own sex tape, call myself a drug dealer, or out myself? Or bother you, for that matter? We don’t even talk. How do I know you’re not behind this?”
