✨A WATTYS 2022 PARANORMAL & "BEST CHARACTERS" WINNER✨
A college basketball star risks everything to prove his innocence with a girl who can communicate with ghosts.
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Ace Jones isn't certain about a lot of things in life, but basketball has always...
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I KNOW this girl.
Chipotle.
About two months ago.
My boys and I spotted her from the register. She was reaching for a lid and I had to intervene. Thought she had the sickest vibe—I couldn't help but make an introduction. Abby and I were on the outs. Again.
But Devyn didn't take the bait. Just snapped the lid out of my fingers and skulked away before I could say anything.
My boys gave me so much grief about that. For a week, they teased me about my game—about how I wasn't really Black and my "white side" was holding me back. I shrugged it off. By then I was back with Abby.
The thing is I've never dated a Black girl before. There's not much diversity in Cottonwood, so I hardly ever considered it. And as cocky as it sounds, the girls usually come to me. I barely settled into my dorm when Abby showed up, worming her way into my life. But after I failed to impress Devyn that day, something in the back of my mind hummed.
And here she is, right in front of me again, breaking into a nervous grin.
I try everything to hold it together while my stomach flakes. "So your boy said you could help me out, you know?" I ask, trying to remain coolheaded.
She sighs. "Oh, I know. And please, Crawley is not 'my boy', okay?"
"Aiight." I clear my throat. "But you're willing to help?"
Devyn sends another strange glare towards her car. Why does she keep doing that? Something about it feels off.
"Yeah, we should get out of here before we have every cop chasing us like O.J. on the freeway."
I chuckle, not quite understanding the reference. "Bet."
"You'll have to get in the back. Duck down in the seats. Cameras are everywhere downtown."
I shoot a look to the back of her Bug. I'm 6'4 and bulky. This is gonna be painful. But I eagerly climb aboard, careful not to let Devyn see my doubts.
Once inside, a fragrance overwhelms me. I identify the source as a bottle of mango butter lotion sitting in her cup holder. She has her high school tassels hanging around her rear view mirror. The back seat is loaded with textbooks on ancient African things. I gently transfer them to the floorboard, bringing my knees up to my chest—my back uncomfortably leaning at a slant.
Devyn pushes her seat back, causing me to stamp my tongue at the pain digging into my knee. Of all fucking cars in the universe.
"So, where we going?"
Devyn turns profile, her lips tightly pursed. "That's a very good question, Ace." She grunts, starting the engine. "Just give me a moment to think."
