Ace of Spades

by Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé

I don’t know if I fully agree with him. I don’t know if I want to fully agree with him. It’s a sad way to look at things. “You sound like someone who should go to college,” I tell him. He looks like he’d major in politics or some other social science, writing articles and pissing people off whenever he speaks. “World’s not ideal,” he reminds me. “And if it was?” I ask, turning on the swing to look at him now. “If it was, a lot of shit would be different.” He looks at me. “I might go to college, major in business or something. I might do well and get out of here. I might do dangerous things like kiss boys I like and do all the things I’ve always wanted to do. But the world isn’t ideal, so why poison my mind with thoughts that won’t make a difference?” I get that. Dreaming can be dangerous. It’s hard to dream in a neighborhood like ours. Ma always told me to dream, though, that the sky was my limit. I’m scared to dream too high, in case I end up falling flat on my face. But I still do it. It hurts to dream, but I dream regardless. Ma has tried to create this ideal world for me. Despite my scholarship, she’s still spending so much on this school, hoping a good college takes a chance on me. But what if none of that happens? What if I fail? Or get expelled? What if Aces ruins everything? What if I just get stuck here, disappointing her, wasting her time and money, for nothing?