Amazing Grace (Jonathan Toews)

The Rich Mans Daughter

Jonathan

I softly rest my hands on her hips as she wraps her arms around neck. I hold her close to me so I could get a real good look at her. My grip on her tightens a little as I familiarize myself with her body. She was nervous, I could tell. Her touch was soft and she wasn't sure what to do, but I could tell she wanted to be out here with me. She reaches down and starts to mess with my tie and I had to laugh considering how much trouble it gave me earlier. But she easily fixed it so it looked real nice before wrapping her cool fingers around my neck once again. Her fingers dig into my skin as she finally relaxes and pulls me closer.

We slowly sway back and fourth as I stare down into her hazel colored eyes. I've never seen any like that before.

"Why did you want to dance with me Jonathan" she asks and I laugh.

"Can't I just want to make memories with a pretty girl" I ask.

"You can do whatever it is you put your mind to. But why do you want to dance with me" she wonders.

"I come to places like this a lot, I have for a while. I've talked to many guys like your father and they pushed their daughters on me, but I've never met any girl like you. They usually shamelessly try to flirt and show little to no decency to the fact that I'm a stranger and they know nothing about me. They think they do, but they don't" I explain.

"Then who are you" she asks and I kinda stop to smile at her. She looks up at me with so much curiosity and it was the most flattered I have been while I was here.

"I'm not gonna lie, I'm a little lost. Being the third youngest captain ever was a big responsibility handed to me and I'm not sure I can be the guy everyone needs me to be. People look at me and see I'm confident and in control but those only go for my abilities, not for those of my team. I'm not a emotional guy and I drink more than I should, I don't know how to cheer a guy up or handle my problems without a beer. I don't know. I just think it's funny when people know my name and my number and they think they know me and my situation" I shrug.

"I get how you feel" she says and I cock my head to the side. "Not really knowing where you belong" she continues.

"I'm sorry, but doesn't most people who go here have had their life planned out for them since they were a little kid" I insist.

"Maybe so. But I'm not like most people in here. I don't act like them and I certainly don't look like them. People look at me and say I'm not white, for my skin makes that obvious. But when black people look at me they say I don't belong with them either. That I don't act like them, don't talk like them, therefore I will never be one of them. So I'm stuck somewhere between white and black, there's a million other colors in this world and I'm stuck between those two.

If I had dollar for every time I was the only colored person besides my mother at a function such as this one, well I wouldn't need my father's money for anything. I mean my favorite sport is hockey for gods sake.

But the thing is the color of my skin does not define me. It's how other people define me, but not how I define myself. While it's easy to look at me and my parents and think you have it figured out, it's never that easy. So I get what your saying. How people perceive you based off of what they see and how you feel a totally different way" she explains.

"I'm sorry, I had no idea that's what you go through" I admit.

"That's kind of how it goes around here. My dad and his friends try to hook me up with their sons, make me dance with them at these events and try to make something out of nothing. It's like trying to build a house with no supplies, you can't build off of something that isn't there. You see, I'm not like these people. I don't look like them, I don't act like them. I was raised the same but got different results.