“I’m fine,” she says, but her voice wavers. “They pushed some pictures of me through my mail slot… They’ve been taking pictures of me, of us. They sent me a picture of you on some jungle gym… It looked private.”
My mind flashes back to the park. Terrell. The kiss.
“Devon?”
“Sorry, I got lost there.”
“That’s fine. It’s just… Sunday has to work out, okay?”
“Okay,” I say, nodding.
She sounds really shaken up.
“Good. I’m going to go now. Stay safe and try not to do anything incriminating between now and Sunday,” she says.
I’m confused. “What do you mean?”
She sighs. “Try to keep your dick in your pants; that’s what I mean.”
Oh.
“Oh… you too, I guess,” I say.
“I will,” she says.
“Okay.”
And then the line goes dead.
“Who was it?” Terrell asks. I almost forgot he was here—somehow.
I don’t want to tell him everything, make him worried. This is dangerous enough.
“Chiamaka. She just wanted to go over the plan again,” I lie, climbing onto the bed and sitting next to him, avoiding looking him in the eye.
“Did you tell her about your headmaster possibly being behind this?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Not yet. It’s just a theory. One I don’t think she’ll believe. She’s so far up his ass. She’s more concerned with getting her titles back. But if it is him, we’ll know soon enough.”
I anxiously watch Terrell’s window, worried that someone is lurking outside. Watching, collecting secrets, plotting.
A cartoon plays in the background, the one Terrell somehow roped me into watching. I swear Terrell has the same taste as my kid brothers.
My eyes drift, landing on certificates and plastic medals hanging on Terrell’s walls. I never looked at them closely until now. They all sayStar pupilorHighest-achieved grade point average, with different years marked on each.
Terrell is smart, so it isn’t surprising. He doesn’t seem to go to school much, though. I don’t feel like going back either; I feel like running from Aces.
I wonder why Terrell doesn’t go. I wonder what he’s running from.
I feel myself getting sleepy. I’ve been at Terrell’s for hours. I close my eyes for a moment, drifting off slowly.
I hear him say, “Promise me you won’t die on Sunday.”
And I can’t tell if I dream that or if he really says it, but I answer anyway.
“I promise.”
26
