Skin Deep ✔️

Chapter Two

I haven't seen Ezra at all since I dropped him off earlier in the office and so I think its safe to assume that he's in a different tutor group than I am. The bell rings telling us it's time for our first lesson and I groan because as of right now I hate English. I also hate my teacher for giving me a C.

I walk to the classroom that is down the hall very slowly. I'm not in any kind of rush. A warm hand grabs mine and I instantly know who it is, since he's the only person I've ever allowed to touch me. I look up at him with a smile to find a matching one on his lips. 

"Hey." 

"Hi."

"What lesson are you going to now?" He asks, looking down at me. 

I don't know what it is about him but every time he speaks, I can't help but want to lose myself in the coolness of his voice and move my hands through the waves of his hair. Its absolutely incredible and irritating how he has this affect on me already, I barely know him and yet it feels like we were both cut from the same cloth. 

He's staring at me, and I realise I haven't answered his question. "Oh uh. English."

He grins widely and pulls me along with our still intertwined hands. "Same."

I laugh and it's the first time I've actually felt remotely happy in this building. Every day I've dreaded waking up and having to bring myself here but today is different. Today I met Ezra. 

I take my normal seat in the far left corner of the classroom and Ezra follows straight behind me. He takes the seat next to me in silence and putting his bag on the back of his chair. 

"Do you want to-"

I can't finish asking him if he wants to hang out at break because the other students start to fill the classroom and the words get stuck in the back of my throat. He waits patiently for me to finish not wanting to interrupt me, but our teacher does that anyway as she tries to get the class's attention. 

"Good Morning Year 12."

Everyone but Ezra and I mumble an unenthusiastic 'good morning' back and from the corner of my eye I can see him slowly sink in his seat as if he's trying not to get any attention. It's a bit hard when he looks like a complete Adonis. 

Just the way his hair hangs over his eyes is breathtaking and I'd be an idiot not to notice these things about him, especially since half the girls in class have already noticed him and are foaming at the mouth.

I wonder which one of them he's attracted to, what his type is. Whether he prefers blondes or brunettes. Straight hair or curly hair. For some reason I care what his answer would be even though whatever it is it isn't me. Guys like him don't go for girls like me. It's confusing enough that he even wants to be friends with me.

"As some of you already know we have a new student." The class goes silent looking around for this said new student. "Ezra Buchanan please stand up."

There's no movement for a moment and Ezra looks as if he's going to be sick. I give him a small kick with my foot and when he finally meets my eye, I smile. He stares at me, and I fidget beneath his gaze before he eventually stands up so he can introduce himself. 

It's a bit odd seeing him like this especially after our meeting this morning. This smiling skyscraper of a boy suddenly made quiet and nervous by a classroom of other teenagers. He fiddles with the sleeve of his blazer and it takes all I've got no to jump up and wrap my arms around him. For his own comfort, of course. Not because I want to know what'll happen if our bodies are that close to each other.

"Uh hi." Ezra says. 

There's murmurs of 'awe's and 'oh my gosh he's so cute' from in front of me and roll my eyes as Ezra continues. 

"I'm Ezra. I'm not really that interesting if I'm honest."

"Is your dad Milton Buchanan?" Someone at the front asks. "That really big property investor that owns like five hospitals in each state."

"Uh yeah."

I'm surprised. I figured he was wealthy considering how well groomed he looked. It was like he was the bloody prime minister's son. I didn't expect him to be like royalty in America though that even someone in my class recognised who his father was. I might as well give up now because from the looks of things Ezra Buchanan was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and I was a ratchet black girl from the council estate.

Ezra's expression darkens and his hands curl into tight fists. I watch as he flexes and unflexes them. He doesn't seem at all happy that his dad was mentioned but I'm more shocked at the amount of money he probably has. Not that I would ever take anything from him.

"Why are you here in this shit hole then?" Someone else asks. 

Our teacher frowns at the language but doesn't really do anything, perhaps equally interested in the answer to this specific question. I cant lie and say that I don't want to hear what Ezra has to say either. 

Ezra pinches the bridge of his nose, his voice thick and unsteady. "I didn't want to go to a private school. Felt a bit much." He turns to look at the teacher. "Can I sit down now?"

"Yes of course." She answers and he does so obediently.

Our teacher turns on her board so we can see the presentation that she has up and I am instantly appalled. Right there on the screen, clear as day, is an extract of To Kill A Mockingbird page 174. Right there on the screen, clear as day, is the N word. She looks up from her screen, directly at me and smiles whilst I think I'm going to throw my breakfast up.

"Would you like to read this out for me please, Toni."

I'm one of the three black people in this school and I'm the only black person in this classroom which is exactly why she has asked me this. I refuse to be apart of this. I shake my head but she doesn't seem fazed, she just stares at me.

I look around hoping someone will do something, literally anyone but they don't seem to care. Everyone just seems to be waiting patiently or rolling their eyes. Everyone except Ezra. I can't read his expression, he just stares at the board and in a weird kind of way it feels like he's staring at me. That word is me. That word is part of my ancestry, that word is a blade to my skin in a way that I can't explain and he's just staring at it.

"No." I finally say.

"No?" She looks offended as if I've just asked her to read aloud a derogatory word that she isn't comfortable with.

"I don't feel comfortable saying that." I explain with most amount of politeness I am physically capable of.

"Fine." She nods and I smile thinking she finally gets it. "Then I'll say it."

"What?" Ezra asks incredulously and he looks quite angry.

"Please be aware that this is for educational purposes only and I advise you to not say this word outside of this classroom because of it's controversial history." Our teacher says calmly.

And then she says it. I hear it loud and clear and it actually makes me flinch. I look to Ezra and he nods at me encouragingly so I can stand up for myself, but I can't. It is physically impossible. My mouth won't move and I start to wonder if maybe I'm being just a little dramatic. But then I think of my grandparents who were literally slaves in Mauritania just before my mom was born because slavery wasn't abolished there until 1981.

The sick feeling in my stomach starts to feel a lot more real and I can feel it coming up the back of my throat and so I do the only acceptable thing a girl can do in this situation. I run.