When To Put Trust On The Line

Part 1

A short while later, I was on the sidewalk across the street from my school and spotted Kenny at the entrance, leaning against the stair railing, talking to a group of guys. My mood brightened and I eagerly started towards him. When he saw me he smiled. His friends took the hint and fist-bumped him, saying they'd see him later. I walked up to him and wrapped my arms around his neck.

We hugged real tight for a bit before pulling apart for a quick kiss. He then looked me up and down and bit his lip. I loved when he did that. "Hey baby. Whassup?"

"I'm cool. How you doin'?"

Kenny smiled. It always humoured him when I tried to speak "gangster." "You already know how your man is. Especially when he's with his girl." I smiled and he pulled me close. I loved him so much. Though so many people believed that we came from different worlds. I never really believed in that kind of thing. We were all the same in unimaginable ways. But I knew Kenny and I were quite different.

Originally, I was from California and grew up in a nice home and quiet neighbourhood. My parents were two very good people who didn't believe in arguments - therefore never yelled as they thought it was best to talk things out – and occasionally went to church whenever they weren't too busy. So, rarely. But in general, they were very chill people.

I had only one sister – Adele, though I called her Addie - who didn't look much like me. We shared the same green eyes, but her hair was long, blond and wavy while mine was red-brown, short, curly and I had a few light freckles near my nose and cheeks. Adele grew up taking advantage of our parents' relaxed manner and therefore became a rebel, causing lots of trouble, but never getting punished. Our strict aunt and uncle, who noticed this one time when they came to visit, suggested that she move to Ohio with them so they could work on her "unacceptable behaviour." My parents hesitated but ended up being convinced while Adele refused and tried to run away, which didn't work. She was twelve at that time and I was eight.

She got to visit us often and at sixteen, came back to live with us. At this point we had moved here to Philadelphia. Adele was supposed to come back a changed person, but she tricked us and immediately went back to her old ways. Just worst this time because she was hanging out with the wrong crowd. Not sure what to do, my parents sought help for her extreme behaviour the next year when she turned seventeen. They made her see a shrink regularly, and she was taken away from home and put into a program for troubled teens whose behaviours needed to be fixed. She described it to me later as a "boot camp." It lasted about six months and had very few privileges - phone calls home being one of them. Adele came back a lot more tolerable, though she didn't want to attend school.

When she finally agreed to, she was almost eighteen. Due to her low marks, she was put into a special program that was supposed to help her get the grades she didn't get in high school, and help her attend college. She worked hard during that time, avoiding her old friends. And now, she was at college a couple hours away, living with her boyfriend Jacques from Paris, and came often to visit. She was the only complicated part of my life that no one knew about. Everyone at school thought I was just another smart, rich perfect white girl. But they didn't know me. Kenny barely knew the story either despite us having dated for almost a year.

He had lived here his whole life. Not in the best neighbourhood though. His strength and toughness made people not mess with him. He had two older brothers and one sister in rehab. He was mixed, though mainly appeared Hispanic, like his father – a hard worker who was barely around - while his mom was black. His two older brothers were light-skinned and born from a black father, as well as his older sister, but she came from a different black man - the first man their mom had been with. Kenny, being the youngest and lightest, was picked on by his siblings growing up - even to this day. He mainly spoke street slang while I was an honour student and big on the proper use of language, which usually humoured him.