Ace of Spades

by Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé

Distribution of DR’s messages. Distribution of DR’s messages. DR … Devon Richards. Messages … All the shit Aces has been sending to everyone. The screen blurs and I shut my eyes, squeezing the tears out. Jack’s been sending the messages to people. Jack’s the reason Dre found out about all of this. Jack’s the reason Dre broke up with me. Jack’s the reason I can’t breathe whenever I enter the school. I wipe my eyes and drag the mouse down, watching as more familiar names appear. Unable to process, I’m numb as I click back and choose the Bishop folder. Like before, there are rows of names, with short sentences detailing more tasks next to each one—all of them checked off. The lists in the files aren’t long enough to be the names of every single person at Niveus, but I recognize a lot of them as students. Anger bubbles inside as I read more familiar names, like Mindy Lion and Daniel Johnson and other people I’ve shared conversations with, sat next to in classes for almost four years. All of them, in on this. This. What is this?