Ace of Spades

by Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé

“Baby, what’s wrong?” she asks, and I don’t know what to tell her. The school you have to work three jobs to keep me at is incredibly fucked up and racist. No one asked for my permission before leaking my life to the world. Me and the boyfriend you don’t know about broke up … Oh yeah, and, Ma, I’m gay and I don’t want you to hate me for it, because I love you so much and I can’t live with you hating me, so please don’t. That’s what’s wrong; all those things, and then some. But I can’t speak; if I speak, I’ll tell her everything, and then she’ll hate me. So I just cry and cling to her. The bubbles in the boiling pot grow louder. “Vonnie, tell me what’s up. You know you can tell me anything, right?” I shake my head. That’s what she says now, but she doesn’t mean it. If I had girl problems, I could tell her everything, but not this. “I don’t want to lose you, Ma.” “Boy, I’m going nowhere. Jesus keeps me alive and well. Tell me what’s wrong.” She pulls away and forces me to look at her. “I hate school.” What a fucking understatement. “And you work hard so I can go.” I can’t breathe, I can’t look at her. “I hate it so much. They look down on me, say things about me.” I’m crying so hard it shakes my bones, rattling my rib cage. My nose blocks and I feel trapped in my own body. “Vonnie, you only have a few months left … You should have said something ages ago; I would have pulled you out if I knew you’d be happier somewhere else.” “It’s only gotten really bad now. They keep talki...