by Lamar Giles
He looked it. He’d lost weight, too. Nothing as drastic as his dad toward the end. I didn’t think he was sick. Tired, though? I could believe that. He was heir to the Carlino kingdom. That crown, the one that couldn’t be worn by three heads, was all his now. Probably heavy, too.
I offered him the burgers. “Dig in.”
He went elbow deep in the bag, grabbed a bundle of fries, consumed them nearly whole. He crawled back onto the hood. “Come on up?”
“Will it dent this time?” My words, followed by instant regret. A reference to what happened to the last car bearing our weight, the last night things were okay.
He rolled with it, though. “Dents come out.”
I climbed on, slid a bit. He gripped my forearm, steadying me. My emotional pendulum swung toward mad. Why did he try to fool me instead of trust me?
“You’re still angry.” He retracted his helping hand and I steadied myself.
“Sometimes I am.” The pendulum swung away. I claimed my burger. “Are you back for good?”
“Don’t know yet. Dad left everything to Mom. But she’s letting the advisory board run all the businesses so she can focus on Cedric.”
Millimeters away from my next bite, I lost the urge. Bert promised no string pulling to get Cedric off. Did Cedric’s mom have different plans? “Focus how?”
“Getting him ready to go in. She even hired this jail coach to prepare him.”
“That’s a thing?”
“You’d be surprised what sort of services are available at the right price.”
“No, I wouldn’t. Not anymore.”
We ate. Not in silence, no such thing with the planes coming and going. We ate in tolerance. Between bites I tested his presence and proximity. Could I stay here? I wasn’t conceited enough to think he wasn’t doing the same. I thought long and hard about what I’d say when the food was gone. I settled on “I’m sorry about your dad.”
“Really?”
“Of course. I know what it’s like. You know I know what it’s like.”
“No. You don’t.”
The pendulum swung. “Seriously?”
“Calm down.” There was a snap in it. He was angry, too.
“This was a bad idea.”
“Nikki.” He inhaled hard. “I meant you don’t know what it’s like because you were proud of your dad. Your dad was innocent. Your dad tried to do right and tell the truth. That’s the legacy he left you.”
What do I say to that? I stopped short of asking if he’d spoken to Bert before the end and knew that his dad wanted his love, if not his respect. No. That was between them. I watched another flight take off. I didn’t leave.
“You come back here much?” he asked.
“When he’s on my mind. I like it better here than the graveyard. I’m not a flowers-on-the-tombstone kind of person. If I play cards again, I think every game will be for him. That’ll be my flowers.”
“If. You haven’t played since the Nysos? At all?”
“Been occupied.” My time in isolation was a hurdle. That was over, now. I’d even gotten some texts from Goose. I was nervous. I didn’t need to play for an escape or tuition. Both were available to me if and when I needed them. Would sitting down at a table even feel the same?
He didn’t press but pointed at a jet tracing a luminescent line across the sky. “You still think about it?”
“Flying away. Sure. I just don’t feel so hard-core about not coming back.”
“How did you deal?” Davis asked, a complete left turn. “I mean, when your dad went through his trial, and people shoved cameras in your face, and treated you like you did something wrong when you didn’t.”
The answer he was looking for, I didn’t have. Not when the monsters in his family were real. “It’s the murderer the press really cares about,” I said, trying to help him without lies, without letting Cedric off the hook. “Not his family. Ignore the other stuff.”
He nodded. Cordial. I knew it was easier said than done and had a feeling he knew it now, too.
I remembered. Even shielded, I got lost. Buried. Dad was the world.
Cedric had a jail coach to take care of him. No one took care of the good son.
My hand found its way to Davis’s. Our fingers naturally twining together, I squeezed, and I still felt our old connection.
“If I stay, can we start over?” he asked, looking at our hands. “After everything that happened, can we be okay?”
“Do I have to answer tonight?” I asked. “That’s not me saying no,” I was quick to add.
“You don’t have to. I have another question: Are you at least happy to see me? Even a little?”
A tighter squeeze. “More than a little.”
“That’s good enough.”
Another plane took off. “I bet that one’s going to Miami,” he said.
“How can you possibly know that?
“I don’t. That’s why it’s a bet. We are in Las Vegas.”
“That’s sound logic.”
“Well, tell me, what you think?”
What I thought … all bets were off.
Here we are again! It’s a special kind of reader who sticks around for the acknowledgments. I’m one, and you’re one. We like to know who’s knocking around backstage.
This book had a lot of assistance getting from my head to your hands. I’m going to TRY to mention everyone here, but with the usual disclaimers. 1.) If it’s right, it’s thanks to them; if it’s wrong, blame me. 2.) If I somehow forget you, blame the head, not the … you know.
First, the Usual Suspects: Adrienne, Mom, the siblings, and the rest of the family. I have a weird job that you’re all okay with. That’s cool and I love you.
Jamie: We did it again. Now we gotta figure out the particulars of a gym assassin story. I’m thinking franchise potential here.
Jody “The Editor” Corbett: You have awesome boots and fishing-line jewelry. More importantly, you dragged this book out of me with superhuman patience. I’d like to change a single word on Page 19, Line 12 … but it’s probably too late for that now, huh? So, I’ll just thank you and hope you want to do this again sometime.
Special shout-outs to: Phil Falco, the designer responsible for the beauty of the book you’re holding; Elizabeth Tiffany, the production editor who handles all the little details that would overwhelm mere mortals; Jana Haussmann, of the legendary Scholastic Book Fairs, for supporting this labor of love; and the collective Publicity and Sales team for all of their hard work in getting Nikki Tate’s story to all you readers who, I hope, dig her as much as we do.
Daria Peoples (a writer/illustrator superstar in the making) and Jermone Riley: Thank you for helping me get Vegas as close to right as I’m capable of. I want to come back and have exotic tacos with you at China Poblano soon!
Eric Liu: Thank you for the insight into the world of pro poker. What you do is amazing, and if I ever see you at the table, I’m walking away.
For telling some awesome Vegas stories and other miscellany help, thanks to Robert Riley, Becky Binion Behnen, Amy Hisler, Crystal Lone, Ken Chilton, and Jen Rofé.
A special shout-out to the We Need Diverse Books crew: Ellen, Dhonielle, Karen, Sona, Gbemi, Thien-Kim, Kristy, Bryce, Steph, Nicole, Elsie, Jenn, Amitha, Hannah, and all the rest.
And thanks to you, Dear Reader.
Now, deal!
Copyright © 2017 by Lamar Giles
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Press, an imprint of Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, SCHOLASTIC PRESS, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or
locales is entirely coincidental.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Giles, L. R. (Lamar R.), author.
Title: Overturned / Lamar Giles.
Description: First edition. | New York : Scholastic Press, 2017. | Summary: Nikki Tate’s father has been on death row for killing his best friend in a gambling dispute, but he has always maintained his innocence, and now his conviction has been overturned and he is back at the casino, where high school junior Nikki has been operating illegal poker games in the hopes of saving enough money to get out of Vegas after graduation—and now he is determined to find the real killer, and Nikki is inevitably drawn into his dangerous search for the truth.
Identifiers: LCCN 2016035488 | ISBN 9780545812504
Subjects: LCSH: Murder—Investigation—Nevada—Las Vegas—Juvenile fiction. | Fathers and daughters—Juvenile fiction. | Poker—Juvenile fiction. | Gambling—Juvenile fiction. | Casinos—Juvenile fiction. | Las Vegas (Nev.)—Juvenile fiction. | CYAC: Murder—Fiction. | Fathers and daughters—Fiction. | Poker—Fiction. | Gambling—Fiction. | Casinos—Fiction. | Las Vegas (Nev.)—Fiction. | African Americans—Fiction.
Classification: LCC PZ7.G39235 Ov 2017 | DDC 813.6 [Fic]—dc23
First edition, April 2017
Book design by Phil Falco and Mary Claire Cruz
e-ISBN 978-0-545-81251-1
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