It’s Friday, and I’m at school a little earlier than usual because Chiamaka finally wants to speak to me.
As I walk through the hallway, I can feel the glares of people, the patronizing smiles, shaking their heads—like I give a fuck.
There are no more posters of Chiamaka up—the walls are blank, with the exception of the posters for that ball we’re all required to go to next week.
I’m assuming the janitor probably took care of it, but the way everything is so spotless, it’s like yesterday never happened.
I reach for my phone to check if Chiamaka’s messaged again. I was at Terrell’s place until really late, so I only remembered to charge my phone this morning, which is when Chiamaka texted.
As I walk into the music classroom we’re meeting in, my screen flashes.
Okay, guys, this one’s a biggie! Strap on your Gucci belts, and get your popcorn while I tell you a story about a girl who couldn’t wash the blood off her hands. Because if she could, maybe I wouldn’t know so much about it…
The fuck…
Our favorite mess… I mean, Head Prefect, would KILL for some attention from Aces. It must be hard going from Queen status topauper overnight, so I thought I’d help her climb up the ladder again. So, the big question:
What’s the sentence for murder? Ten years… fifteen… life? Who can help a girl out? More to come soon on this KILLER story.—Aces
My mind flashes back to the file on the USB.
The door of the music room bursts open, and I jump back as Chiamaka storms in, tears running down her face.
“Devon, I think something bad is going to happen to me.”
24
CHIAMAKA
Friday
[A few minutes before]
Whispers are like snakes; they slither into your ears and threaten to poison your sanity with their venom.
I heard Jamie knew…
I can’t believe she hasn’t been expelled yet…
I hope Jamie doesn’t go down too, for being associated with her…
I spot Jamie with some of the football guys by his locker, laughing.
I approach him confidently, striding forward.
“Hi, Jamie,” I say, patting his shoulder, which stiffens immediately. I notice some of his friends look at me like they are scared of what I might do to them. The fear in their eyes makes me feel a little unnerved. Even when I was on top, no one looked at me with genuine fear, like they’re doing right now.
Jamie turns, and when he sees me, his face darkens.
Then he swivels back and says, “I’ll see you guys later,” and they pat him on the back before rushing down the hallway.
“What?” he asks.
I fold my arms to hide my shaking fingers. I haven’t stopped shaking since yesterday.
“Thank you for what you did yesterday, with the posters,” I say quietly.
I heard Jamie and some of the football team took the posters down. It was a nice but random gesture. He’s still an ass, but I want to thank him.
