BROWN SKIN | BOOK 1

|| C H A P T E R . 8 ||

Beau sat in the seat at the same time I plopped in my mine and my nerves started tingling, I froze. It was difficult to be put at ease with him by my side. His shoulder accidentally brushed against me and I felt the heat from his skin radiate over to me.

"Mary, you want to pray? Mary wants to pray. I'd like to give blessing before we eat. Let's hold hands and bow our heads." Mama yelled, trying to hush the group.

My head bowed and my eyes fluttered shut, and I reached out my hand to one side but didn't grab Beau's. 

I felt a warm hand glided into my palm smoothly on the edge of the chair.

"Father God, I'd like to thank my friends...family...and new people for coming out tonight..."

Beau's hand began encircling his thumb on my hand, caressing it gently and my eyes flickered open to turn my head to capture a smirk that touched his lips as he stood still in the prayer posture. I quickly closed my eyes and looked away.

"Amen."

"Amen." Everyone else said in unison.

As the speech ended and conversations amplified, everyone started their own filled with gossip and chitchat became difficult to talk over. 

My arms reached over to grab some of the fresh doughy bread and dipped it in a mix of oils each plate had eagerly.

"Can you pass me the okra?"

I was praying, maybe even hoping, not to talk to her throughout the night we had left together, but shouldn't  have taken a second thought. Searching the table, I should've known, the green okra settled in the white bowl next to my oils and delicious bread. My eyes averted at the okra, then my glass and picked the one I liked best.

"Ebonee."

Her face was probed with annoyance and animosity as she said my name with a sharpness, but she surprisingly remained calm.

I was glad this was pissing her off actually. 

"Oh, yes?" I asked reluctantly.

She fixated herself in the plastic chair and brushed off the napkin by her hand on the table along with my cluelessness I solemnly faked till it was sprawled out flat.

She cleared her throat appropriately and looked down to address me in a biting manner. 

"You did very well dancing up there Ebonee. It was almost cute."

"It could've been better since you're a dancer and all, danced at least a few years and counting by now." She twirled the fork in her smooth hand, "I expected more."

She just loved to dig the knife in and jeer it in my skin.

"I don't recall what you were doing dancing," I said.

Beau snorted quietly, but it was loud enough for Simone to catch it and hear. 

"I wouldn't be the one laughing if I were the one dating ebony the black girl now. Why the need to have the color black as your name? Hell, we know you're black."

She knew I always said that as a joke, just to be a tease, but when she said it, it was, in fact, humorless. 

My fork slipped out of my fingers but not because I was angry, ( I sometimes had horrible reflexes) no, because what came out of Beau's mouth next.

"What? We're not even-"

I cut him off quickly, "Are you kidding me?"

"Don't get mad now sweetie, you don't want to be that one loud ghetto black girl screaming across the table." She dabbed the napkin on her stained lips and the corner of her mouth delicately so it wouldn't smudge.