The Game

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𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑻𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 - 𝑻𝒖𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈

I woke up feeling good, stretched long, and let the morning breathe on me through the cracked window. Shower, face routine, and then hair — curls only today. I worked in a leave-in and scrunched until my coils sat soft and bouncy, parted just enough to frame my glasses.

I kept my jewelry simple because simple was the assignment — small gold hoops in my ears and a thin gold necklace with a tiny charm. That was it. I pulled on the fit I laid out last night: an oversized rugby top with navy and gray stripes and a white collar, baggy camo cargos low on the hips, and black-and-white sneakers with thick soles. I grabbed my black JanSport, misted a fruity perfume — peach and pear, light — and checked myself in the mirror. Cute. Chill. Me.

Downstairs, I kissed Daddy's cheek, dodged Stephan's goofy elbow, and slid out the door with a breakfast bar. The drive to Crestwood Academy was muscle memory at this point. Red, white, and gold flags snapped in the breeze as I pulled into the lot.

Neilah was already at my locker when I walked in. "Morning, ma'am," she said, tapping my necklace. "Minimalist. I like it."

"Trying not to do the most," I said, swapping out books. "You got your English packet?"

"Stapled and highlighted," she said, exaggerating the teacher voice. "Where's Ja'Colby?"

"Right here, chill," he said, jogging up and draping an arm across both our shoulders for two seconds before we shrugged him off in sync.

We made it into English right as the bell rang and slid to our usual seats in the last row cluster — me in the back of the sixth row, Neilah behind the fifth, and Ja'Colby behind the seventh so we could talk without getting caught. It didn't always work.

Mrs. Kenneth power-walked to the front with a stack of papers. "Settle down so I can do attendance," she hollered, like anyone was wilding this early.

We exchanged a look. I bit a smile.

She read down the list, stabbing at names like they owed her money. "Christian... Merari... Ashley... Ilyas... Miranda... Mercedes... Keane... Annie... Daikwan... Chad... Marcel... Kyng... Nancy... Diego... Mila... Naomi... Mati... Kion... August, Kayoni — Kayoni?"

"Stop making out with Mr. Anderson and answer," she said, not even pretending to whisper.

"Fine. I'm here," Kayoni huffed from the front. A couple kids snickered.

"Anyway — Elijah, Ja'Colby, Celia, Jeremiah, Fletcher, Sadie, Kareem, Evie, Kathryn, Neilah, Malachi — Malachi?"

He was leaned back, eyes locked on Neilah like he was studying her. "Here," he mumbled without looking away.

Neilah took a breath, bit her lip, and looked down at her book. I arched an eyebrow at her; she cut her eyes like don't start.

"Aliya?" Mrs. Kenneth called.

"Here," I said, hand up.

"Ronnie, Dante, Isabelle," she finished, and dropped the clipboard like she'd done a workout.

"That took forever," Ja'Colby said under his breath.

"It wasn't even that long," Neilah said.

"Both of y'all hush," I whispered, even though I was laughing.

"You three want to share with the class?" Mrs. Kenneth asked, eyebrows jumping.

"Nah, we good," I said quickly. My mouth moved before my brain could advise.