Outside Sweetest Ting, the cold slapping up against my skin so hard it felt like a relief from the anticipatory heat in my body, I told everyone to please, please let me look at my phone, that I needed to face the source. Aminah tried to swipe my phone from me, and Malakai tried to convince me that it was best that I waited till we got back home.
“Give me your keys, Kai.”
Helpless against my glare, Malakai did as told and I immediately got into his car parked up outside Sweetest Ting, locking the doors as Aminah tried to get in. Something told me I had to be alone for this. I looked at my phone.
ProntoPicLive
@ZeeKing
Wassup, guys [gentle, self-aware friendly chuckle and wave], it’s Zack Kingsford here, your president and, I like to think, brother of Blackwell. It’s been a while since I’ve done a broadcast. I’ve been quiet. Been reflecting. There’s been a lot of drama lately. A lot of accusations being thrown about. A lot of misconceptions. I’ve sat back and watched them because lions don’t concern themselves with the affairs of mice. Nelson Mandela said that. He was also a great leader. But I just feel like enough is enough, and I feel like I owe you all the truth. We’re a family.
The first truth is that the debate with Whitewell Knights is truly just a way to open up dialogue and to really make our presence known within campus. How can we progress if we don’t unite? As you know, I myself am of mixed-race heritage, being both Black and white, and I consider myself a real emblem of what can happen when we put our differences aside. The protests against the debate are further proving stereotypes. That we would rather struggle than seek peace. That struggle has become our identity. Let’s step away from that. Like my hero Nelson Mandela did, I am trying to bridge gaps.
The second part I want to address really is . . . awkward for me. [Another chuckle that quickly dissipates. Soft, vulnerable eyes appear.] I really don’t like to make the personal political but it seems that I have no choice. Kiki Banjo’s platform Brown Sugar has been used to disseminate false information and to instigate a coup. I haven’t been worried because I know I deserve to be where I am. However, it is important to know that her platform isn’t neutral. Kiki Banjo has her own personal vendetta against me.
Kiki and I were embroiled in a relationship for a while. Entangled, if you will. I ended it, and unfortunately Kiki has taken some time to adjust. It saddens me because I really did respect her, but it seems she is seeking vengeance by slandering my name and getting the members of her coven to do the same. It has become a witch hunt. They want to lynch me. We saw an example of this, with her encouraging the thug Malakai Korede to attack me last weekend. It’s a shame because I was truly trying to forge peace. Can we trust someone so manipulative? Blackwell fam, please don’t pay the lies any attention. Do the right thing, vote for Zack King . . . sford. One love. Oh, and evidence of our relationship will be posted on my ProntoPic stories, to prove my integrity.
I hadn’t sent any pictures of myself to Zack, but apparently, he had taken one of me, in my bra and panties, as I was pulling a dress on one time. You could barely make out my face, but, if you wanted to see me, you could. I wasn’t crying. I couldn’t. My muscles had stiffened, the air in my lungs, dense.
Malakai was knocking on the window, saying, “Scotch, come on.”
I unlocked the car. Aminah rushed into the back, squeezed my shoulder. I don’t remember much, but Aminah’s sweet assurances that she was already working on the picture being taken down, as if that was a remedy against screenshots and shares. Malakai was saying that he would kill Zack, but also, confusingly, that none of this mattered, which made me so angry, because if none of this mattered then why would he want to kill Zack? The irritation at the lie was something grounded that I could hold on to, so I held on to it, because the idea, the fact, that this was happening to me again, that somebody had wielded me against me in some kind of ego trip to fix their reputation, was too much for my mind to process, it would have plunged me in way too deep. I had to stay afloat. So I clung to my anger at Malakai’s well-meaning attempt at consolation, till it cloyed in my mind. My mouth was salty.
When he said, cautiously, gently into the silence, “Kiki, please say something,” I replied, “Don’t do anything to Zack that could get you suspended. Promise me.”
Malakai’s jaw tensed but he nodded. “Okay.”
Then I asked him to pull over so I could throw up.
Chapter 25
I threw my phone on the industrial carpet of the library, forcing myself to not tap the replay button again. I hitched my knees up and leaned back against the shelves, my head resting on some books about Bantu civilization. Speaking of Southern Africa, Nelson Mandela’s estate should sue at Zack’s audacity. It’s one thing to smear my name, but conflating Nelson Mandela’s legacy with your fuckery while you’re doing it? Unforgivable.