CHAPTER 2 : (THEN)

The odds were off, especially in regard to my escalation. She lived a few rooms down; her house was on the left side. I mean, on the left side of the apartment lawn. It was closed off in the corner, and it was the only door with a huge closing hinge. It was a little bit unique. How I knew it, hell, take a cup with tea, and add the most sugars, as we got a hell of a huge story to tell. She was 5'4" in height and a little thick. She was pretty much my type. I liked girls medium-sized, not slim, not big, just both and the height a bit short. I liked. A bit short. 

I knew not much about her. I knew she was in some neighboring university. What mattered was, I was in liking, and I hoped she was. I had never spoken to her though. I was just a silent observer, observing her as the flames inside my heart grew more and more, and the urge to talk to her grew. But only a man in my place would know how hard it is to approach a gorgeous lady. She had natural hair, which she curled into some golden-brown color, well-curled, I would describe. She was light-skinned. She was light-skinned, but not as light as a normal white girl. She seemed to be a mixture, like her father was from a different descent, but she took in the colors of her white mother. She had friends, not many though, a closed circle of a maximum of three, no boys, never seen boys, never did. 

She cleaned her house every Saturday. 

She made her nails, most Sundays. 

She liked white more than the normal girls' liking of pink. 

She always had ice cream on her way back. It was either melted or still icy. But she did have it.

"Hayzen, you don't date?" One of the nosy girls asked me. 

"He is looking for a princess," the other answered, the talkative queen bee of the class. 

She barely got anything in education anyway; her only grades were through hanging around with the lecturers and professors. I never judged her though, I never did. There is some point in life when you realize that we are all in survival mode, and if it means selling a part of ourselves, then so be it.

"Do you believe in soul mates?" the queen bee added. She had a liking for me, I knew. I always felt it. Anyone feels the heat of eyes, anyone can tell when someone is liking someone, the look, the little gaze, the little gesture, the little want for a touch. She did that to me. She always did, but my liking was way off from her, it was way off.

"Yeah, I do," I stated, then laughed at the idea, but of course, soul mates exist, why not?

"Have you found one? Science states that a human being finds someone to marry, or rather their soul mate, between the ages of sixteen to twenty-one," she added.

"You sure? I guess I'm waiting. She'll come by someday, I guess," I stated. We were having some talk after the professor left; it was always something we did. Now, this conversation had been led due to the professor's comment that we, as students majoring in medicine, should stop chasing the flattery of love, but rather realize our wants and delve deep into the knowledge of books. "It's our prime year," the professor very well stated.

"What if she is around, you never know... around the class," she added, and that made me just laugh. 

They always flirted with me, these girls. Maybe they saw some light in me. I was so light; I made sure I did everything for them. Sometimes when they did not have time for assignments, I always helped them out. I had their backs. It did feel right to do, especially knowing how much they did save me sometimes. When I was really lost in an examination, they would just give me some answers, or when I was unavailable, they would talk with the lecturers on where I was or cover for me. It was a blessing. I had male friends, but they did not share a course with me. Most of them were my homies. I was born in Georgia, but I am mixed. My father is dark; I hear he hails from the eastern part of Africa. But I was raised with no father; it was just my mum and I. Maybe reasons why I clicked much better with women than men. I clicked with men during pools, nightclubs, or when introduced to one by a close friend. I had a friend in this class, Luke. He was white, but he barely held up to the demands of the course. He deferred a while back; he is pursuing music and art. He had a liking for music; had the nicest of voices, I would say, and his drawing was good. I was talented in music too, maybe a reason why we clicked. But I saw no point in pursuing all that. My mother wanted something for me, something that would last generations in remembrance. I knew she faced a lot of pressures, especially raising a mixed child in a land where color separated beings. I remember being taken to school, and I was the only one with the hardest of hairs. Hell, the boys there stared. That's how I lived, but I stayed for just a term until my mother took me to an all-dark school, and I learnt the cursing words, and Goddamn, hell, the streets were crazy. But I loved the fact that she did her best; it somehow felt unfamiliar when I heard people cry of poverty. She eased it up. She never remarried; my mother, I talk about.

"We would have clicked," I stated and just laughed as we started taking our bags, leaving. "Nice tennis skirt," I added, and she looked at me and just made a little smile and eye twinkle. She was really something. I found myself just stating in my mind as I took my little bag and also started walking down the lawn.

"Hey... yo, Hayzen!!!" Some dude stated from behind me. Goddamn, who the heck is he? I looked back, raising one of my eyebrows.

"Yeah," I stated, the bros in this class. They were the bros in this class, and I wondered suddenly why they approached. I barely spoke to anyone except the two squeaky girls. It was now the beginning of our second year; the third was when each person was set to specify on what exactly they wished to pursue.

"Billy here, James, Funzy," he introduced... and I just nodded. Bizzy... Billy... I'm hella annoying with names; I easily forget them. Billy wore the worst of haircuts, too unprofessional for one who wished to be a doctor, but I hear he wishes to head to the laboratory. For Funzy, this was nothing but a course to make his father proud, and for James... he was barely hanging by, just following a crowd, a loser man.

"We're heading out; we need four dudes. Make us proud," Billy stated. I hated his character; he was all full of himself, and there was pretty little not to like anyway, but his ego was one to hate. Of course, he had all the girls licking his bare palms; they were dogs around him. The three were great men, nice looks, nice hairstyles (except Billy's), nice clothes... they were more likely to be compared to an idol of sorts. They wanted me to hang out with them. I barely hung out, not even barely, I never did. I was the holiest piece of shit anyone would ever see; the queen bee always texted me that I was a waste of my looks. She was the only girl who pulled me along; she liked stating that I was her boyfriend. I barely even stated otherwise; I just stayed there being dragged along. Sometimes, women were something else, but I respected them either way.

"Where to?" I asked. 

Hell, they hated being asked a lot of questions when they were pleading. I saw the look on their faces, as if in disgust. "Okay, I will be there," I found myself stating and adding, "I will call." With that, they just left, and I was left making a fist, beating myself up inside my mind, wondering who the hell they thought they were. But honestly, these men felt so hot about themselves; I wonder what girls liked in them anyway.

Thick! Light-skinned! Curled hair!

I found myself repeating. The same old song. The same old song.

Already in my room? Yes.

I was preparing for the outing. Of course, I had to dress decently. It was an outing of the bigwigs in the second-year class, not only in the School of Medicine and Surgery, but it was something they gained attention and respect for by everyone, even in other schools. They were more of the celebrities.

The three buddies.

Luke had not yet arrived. We did share an apartment, yes. He lived on the left, I lived on the right, and we shared the rest—the kitchen and living room. He was having a gig, or I guess having his time with his girlfriend. The girl was pretty... that's all I would say.

"Seven, River Mall," the text stated. A new number, yes, but I knew who it was. The overly overrated dudes.

I was wearing some sneakers, jeans, and a way baggy white t-shirt that hid the upper part of my waistline and back... you know, back. We don't talk about buttocks as men. Who the heck talks about that anyway, unless talking about the Gucci... ha... the front part... hella crazy. When going out, I barely left without a hoodie, so I carried the dark one that Luke's girlfriend had just brought back. She had washed it, of course. The reason why I took it... I barely did laundry; I hated it. I was a man, anyway. I wanted to wear a cap, but I felt it would be way too Gucci or classical. I sometimes hated being overly branded or overly loaded with some style; it felt like too much. The likes of wearing heavy chains, sagging, sneakers, and a durag; it was more of a shitty trail of an ending of masculinity. It was something not embraced in me. I hated it. No offense, though.

"Seven, River Mall," the statement rang in my thick skull.

After some while..,,

"Yooohh," they said in unison. They looked good; I even felt even less best, but anyway... let's hang out, I guess.

"The place gon' be lit," the funky guy stated as he started the engine. I just wanted to hang out anyway. I was doing nothing for the day, I mean the weekend. We always have classes every day, yes, the pains of studying medicine.

"We're here," he stated as women started running towards them, and men greeted them.., as they opened the car doors.

"Has it started?" Billy Shitty asked.

"You're the boss man," Boy One stated. I just wanted to hang around, but we were on the freaking road. Was the party on some road? I found myself questioning. And as we walked, I came to realize it was car racing. Hell, this was damned. This was mother freaking wrong. I needed to get myself the hell out of here, or else I'd get into trouble.

"Dude, you can drive, right?" Billy asked me. One silly thing about me was, saying no was like carrying a twice-one's-pound weighted rock; it was hard. And I said yes... I feared disappointing people. Hell...

I WAS HELL OF A DRIVER THO'