The Dividing Line

by Victoria H. Smith

He chuckled. “Oh, joy, right?” He eyed me curiously. “Hey, you sound kind of funny. Proper or some shit.”

  Nothing got past this guy. “I’m just coming back from France. I lived there for the better part of a year. I guess it helped me with my diction. I had to speak clear whenever I spoke English or French to the locals.”

  His eyes expanded. “France for almost a year? You going to a university over there?”

  “Nah. I took some time off.” Most likely indefinite time, but I wasn’t going into that.

  Simon couldn’t have looked more shocked. “How do Mommy and Daddy feel about that?”

  “I’m sure you can guess.”

  Frankly, I didn’t really know or care how my parents felt about me leaving school. Before I came to Paris, I left them with little more than a letter and a small explanation about what I was doing from my sister. As one could imagine, the emails and text messages flooded in. Especially from good ol’ Mom. They eventually stopped when she realized they weren’t going to be answered. I was an adult, and really, what could she do about it since I was independent from them?

  He shook his head, patting me on the shoulder. “Same old bad boy Drake. Telling the parents to screw themselves while he goes off fucking chicks in France.”

  Was that how I used to be? I sure didn’t think so, but apparently that’s how I once came across before meeting Lacey. Damn. I kinda felt sorry for my parents now. Keyword: kinda. They weren’t without flaws themselves. Until they acknowledged that, I had no sympathy for them. I was taken from my thoughts when a dirty blonde wearing shorter shorts than Lacey—but not nearly filling them out as well—tugged on Simon’s arm from behind.

  I smirked. Just the type of girl he’d be with.

  “Simon, I want a drink.” She pouted her huge, red lips. They practically looked like they’d been stung by bees they were so big and plastic looking.

  Simon rolled his eyes. “Then go get yourself a damn drink.”

  She cocked her hip. “I need money.”

  Groaning, he pulled out his wallet and shoved some cash into her palm. She gave him a pouty kiss in thanks—to which he smacked her once on her ass in return—then clicked off in her cherry red heels.

  Again. I really hoped I didn’t look like that with women. Though, I had a feeling I might have, and I got nauseous just thinking about it.

  Simon pointed behind himself with his thumb. “I’d introduce you, but honestly, I can’t remember her name. It doesn’t really matter with the way she rocks it in the sack.”

  Okay, then. I nodded, tightening my lips to humor him.

  “Hey, you here with someone? Bring back some French pussy with you?”

  “Uh, no, she isn’t French, but yes, I’m here with someone. My girlfriend.” Someone I definitely didn’t want him to meet now that I thought about it. This guy was more of a tool than I remembered, and I didn’t want Lacey thinking poorly of me for formerly sharing the same social circle as him.

  “Girlfriend? Whoa, have you changed.”

  He had no idea. Only for the better, though. Only for the better. “Yeah, I guess I have. Actually, I have to go find her so we don’t miss our connecting flight—”

  I stepped back and crashed into someone. My senses went wild, my blood warming from the person’s sweet scent, and I didn’t have to turn around to know it was Lacey.

  Dammit. She got back quicker than I thought.

  “Oops. Sorry, I snuck up on you.” She giggled from behind me.

  My fight or flight response went off like a sudden alarm. I wanted to go. I wanted to get her out of here… now. It wasn’t too late. She was still behind me and Simon didn’t see her. I could pretend she was just someone I walked into so she wouldn’t have to meet him, but my plan fizzled the minute she made her way in front of me. Her full, voluminous curls, little jean shorts, and gorgeous plumped-lipped smile made their appearance.

  “I’m ready,” Lacey said, then noticed Simon standing there. Edit: Simon standing wide-eyed and slack-jawed in front of me. What was his deal? “Hey, baby. Who’s your friend?” she continued.

  Since she asked, I unfortunately had to introduce her. It would be rude not to. Hopefully, the asswipe could stay civil in front of her and not embarrass me. I really didn’t want it getting out the person I used to be. It felt like a lifetime ago, and it didn’t define me now.

  “Uh, yeah,” I said gesturing to Simon. “Babe, this is Simon. We used to go to high school together. Simon, this is my girlfriend, Lacey.”

  Her hand shot out with a bright expression. “Nice to meet you, Simon.”

  Simon just kind of stood there for a moment. When he remembered himself, his hand made it into hers. “Likewise, Lacey.”

  I really wanted him away from her. This guy was such a tool. I was about to say we needed to go again, but Lacey interceded.

  “I guess I’ll let you guys finish up. There’s an Auntie Anne’s pretzel stand I saw over near the bathrooms. I’ve been dying to have one of those after being away for so long. But you better hurry, babe. We don’t want to miss our connection.”

  She was leaving to give me some time to say goodbye. Thank God.

  “Good meeting you again, Simon.” Lacey nodded with a final smile then stepped away.

  What happened next I didn’t really know. I only saw red as Simon had suddenly regained the use of his motor skills and was now checking out Lacey from behind. Not only was he checking her out but was also craning his neck to check her out from behind.

  “Dude,” he said, actually following her a few steps to get a better look. “You didn’t tell me you were with a black girl.”

  I blinked, practically giving myself whiplash from shock. Where the hell did that come from?

  “I can’t believe it.” He turned, his mouth hanging open. “You’re with a black girl.”

  Honestly, I didn’t know how to react. In a split second, I went from wanting to annihilate him for checking out my girlfriend’s ass to being completely confused to where his mind went. Why did it matter she was black?

  He gave a throaty laugh, propping his hands on his hips. “And here I thought you were a straight up Twinkie.”

  There was no confusion at all when I heard that because it wasn’t the first time I’d heard the expression. It wasn’t used in polite conversation and landed me in trouble a few times from the fights I got into over it. Another of which I felt brewing in the air as I clenched my fists and snorted like a bull. But Simon, the genius douchenozzle he was, didn’t seem to interpret my reaction as he charged on.

  “Yellow on the outside and completely white on the inside,” he continued, shaking his head with a wide grin. “But I didn’t know you had a chocolate fetish. I guess I got the color of the cream on the inside wrong then, right?” He nudged me.

  My body shook. My pulse raced. But for some reason I couldn’t react. I needed to get out of this situation. I needed to move before I did something that would land me in jail and leave Lacey stranded here in the damn airport.

  Simon closed the gap between us, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me in close to whisper to me. “Is it true what they say about them? You know, about black girls being insatiable in bed?”

  Dropping our bags, I picked him up by the scruff of shirt. I had at least a half a foot of height on him and his feet scraped the ground.

  “What the fuck are you doing, man?” he struggled, grabbing at his shirt.

  Breathing rapidly, I stared hard into his eyes. My eyes flickered to the left at the sight of a rent-a-cop. After disposing his Auntie Anne’s pretzel, he came toward us. A small crowd had formed around us, and a few people watched the confrontation as they passed by. It was in that moment my thoughts came back to me.

  Focusing on Lacey to keep me strong, I dropped Simon back to ground. He fell and landed on his ass.

  “Goodbye, Simon.” I picked up my bags and left the asshat like nothing had happened. Lacey was licking her fingers when I finally made it to he
r.

  She shook a cup with the Auntie Anne’s logo on it. “I saved you a cinnamon sugar pretzel nugget.” Standing on her tiptoes, she brushed her lips against mine.

  I smiled when I tasted the same cinnamon sugar on her plump lips. “No, thanks. You can have it.”

  She shrugged. After finishing the nugget, she threw the trash away. She dusted off her fingers then threaded her arm through mine. We walked to our gate, and as she leaned into me, blissfully unaware of what had just happened, I knew I made the right decision about Simon. She changed me more than she knew, and I was so grateful for that.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lacey

  The flight went smoothly, and Drake and I landed in Chicago without any problems or delays. According to our captain, the city’s afternoon weather was breezy with a touch of humidity—a.k.a. hot as hell and wear as little clothing as possible to keep from melting in the Midwestern heat. I grinded on my lip ring as we waited for the plane to clear so we could leave. Being home made me anxious, and I hoped the trip went smoothly.

  I was pulled from my thoughts when I heard a couple of giggles. Children. I looked into the aisle to see two small kids staring at me. Actually, they were staring past me and pulling back the corners of their eyes, narrowing them, as they whispered gibberish.

  With a sigh, I snuck a look over at Drake. He was clicking on his phone and I let out a breath of relief. Rather than tell the kids to stop, I sought out their mom. She was behind them, cooing at a baby in her arms.

  “Ma’am?” I said subtly. I wanted her to hear me, but didn’t want Drake to.

  She looked up, her expression clearly annoyed. I didn’t bother speaking to her, just concentrated on the rude actions her kids were doing to make fun of my boyfriend’s ethnicity.

  She gave them both a quick slap on the back of the head. “Stop that.”

  They frowned and kept moving.

  “Sorry,” the woman said, but the tone she gave me was far from genuine.

  When they cleared, I turned back in my seat. Drake was still on his phone, and I was glad for that. I grabbed my satchel from under my seat to prepare to leave.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” he said.

  I let out a breath. Dammit, he did see. I leaned back with my bag on my lap.

  “Does that happen a lot?” I asked, regretting the words almost immediately. I sounded completely ignorant. Why would I ask him that? I guess my curiosity had gotten the better of me. Outside of Drake, I had never been around too many Asians before—and being in Paris for almost a year—the two of us had practically been in a bubble. He was never teased about his features there.

  “Being a member of a white, high profile family and going to practically an all-white school my entire life? In a word, yes,” he said, though he still smiled. His eyes dancing with amusement, he continued, “More so when I was a kid. Not so much as an adult. Doesn’t really bother me now. Though I do appreciate my knight in shining armor trying to protect me.”

  I was glad he was so light-hearted about it. Although, I still wanted to scold that mother for not doing much to reprimand her children. I wrapped my arm around his and kissed his cheek. “Of course, I’ll always try to protect you. You look out for me too.”

  “You’re right. Always.” He gave a small smile, but it didn’t seem completely genuine. I worried the faint expression had something to do with what just happened with the kids.

  “Hey. You okay?” I asked, rubbing his arm.

  He seemed to snap out of a daze in that moment and his smile went full. “Yep. Perfect. I’m back home safe and with my girl. What’s not to be happy about?”

  I didn’t want to mention being back home in itself was a downer, so I kept my demeanor positive. I was going to have a good time at home. A good time with my boyfriend before going back to work. After Drake grabbed our bags—once again insisting—he slipped his hand in mine, escorting me off the plane. It was somewhere between leaving our gate and maybe passing the ticket lady that the “good time” journey I embarked upon crashed and burned into the fiery flames of wishful thinking. Why? Because that was when the stares began. They weren’t in abundance, but I definitely noticed them. Drake and I suddenly became the most interesting thing to look at by several people we passed in the airport. Their eyes lingered for a few more seconds than politely acceptable while in the middle of reading books, standing in restaurant lines, and passing us on their way to their individuals destinations. I wasn’t used to such a thing. Normally, I only dated black guys. It’s not that I didn’t want to date outside of my race, but the opportunity just never presented itself. I had a few friends that had some stories to tell though, and this was definitely what they had talked about.

  Drake didn’t acknowledge the attention, just escorted me through the busy crowd. Since he was busy fighting traffic to get us to baggage claim, I was unsure if he even noticed. I hoped he didn’t. I didn’t want it to upset him.

  We kept moving and ended up on the escalator. My awareness of everyone around me spiked due to the previous looks we received, and an older woman behind us grabbed my attention. She glared my way, whispering something to an older gentleman beside her, and I had a feeling what she was saying was anything but pleasant.

  I squeezed Drake’s hand. “Hey, baby, can you text Derrick to see if he’s here to pick us up?” I asked, attempting to distract him, and if I was being honest, distract myself.

  He simply smiled at me, and I knew he hadn’t noticed our fans yet. “Already did when we landed. He’s here.”

  Great. There went that idea. The short escalator ride felt like an eternity, and I let out a relieved breath when we finally got to our assigned baggage claim area. The belt hadn’t started so we waited beside it. I leaned on my rolling carry-on and felt arms move around my waist. Drake’s spicy juniper-fresh scent surrounded me as he rested his chin on my shoulder from behind. All thoughts became lost after that as I got lost in him. He ran his large hands down my waist, resting them on my thighs as he brushed his smooth cheek against mine.

  I smiled, letting myself get wrapped up in him and his touch. I hoped he was paying attention to the belt because I closed my eyes and allowed myself to forget any other thoughts besides how my body responded to his—and that was with heat. Lots and lots of amazing heat and delightful tingles as his hands spanned my thighs and he pressed his groin up against my backside. I had to take a breath after he did that. He was definitely a little, or I guess I should say a lot, excited from our touching. I relished his touch, waiting patiently for the belt in front of us to move. We weren’t really doing any PDA. Well, besides touching a little, but there was no making out and I felt comfortable with my boyfriend touching me this way in public. We had a right to as a couple. Not everyone felt that way, though, and I opened my eyes but didn’t turn my head toward the whisperers. I couldn’t really make out what they were saying, but there was definitely a lot of tsking and tongue clicking. I didn’t want to acknowledge it for fear Drake would hear, so I ignored it.

  “Look at that. Girl can’t get a brother so she’s all up on those nuts.”

  Now, that I couldn’t ignore and shot a glare toward the whisperers. The black girl pursed her lips next to her friend, cocking her head as if to challenge me. I moved just then. I only wanted to tell her politely that she was being rude, but Drake grabbed my arm before I could move more than a few inches.

  “Just let it go, babe,” he whispered in my ear.

  I frowned. “I was only going to tell her politely that whispering about people is rude.”

  He laughed. “Oh no, you weren’t. You had that cute, pouty,” he said, tugging at my bottom lip, “I’m-pissed-at-you-and-I’m-going-to-enjoy-letting-you-know-it face. I haven’t seen it since that day with Tyrone, but I definitely recognize it.”

  Forcing my pouted lip in, I gazed down. “I’m not pissed. Just annoyed.”

  He tipped my chin. “Your rosy cheeks are giving you away.”

  Damm
it.

  “It’s not a big deal. They’re not worth it, okay?”

  In all the drama, the baggage belt had started. The black girls gathered their bags then stalked toward us. The one who challenged me made sure to cock her head at me one final time before walking past us in her tacky, acid-wash jeggings.

  My middle finger fought a twitch to flip her the bird. I hoped the bitch woke up with a stiff neck in the morning from all her damn head cocking.

  “There. They’re gone. You’ll feel better that you were the bigger person and didn’t do anything.”

  Rolling my eyes, I crossed my arms and turned around to face him. “Easy for you to say. No one challenged you.”

  Drake’s jaw ticked as he bent over and grabbed my large purple suitcase from the belt. I put my hand on his arm. “What’s wrong? Did someone challenge you?”

  He shook his head as he spotted his own black bag on the belt. “No. Not directly. There was just a little incident at our connection in Florida. No big.”

  This was news to me. “Where the heck was I?”

  He slid his bag off the belt. “Getting a pretzel. It was Simon. He just had some ignorant shit to say.”

  “Seriously? What, because you were dating me? I thought he was your friend.”

  He smirked. “That asshole is no friend of mine. We were more like acquaintances in high school. And now un-Facebook friends once I get to a computer.”

  Good frickin’ God. We’d been on U.S. soil all of half a day and this crap was already happening. What was next? We were going to get run out of town with pitchforks? You’d think people would be a little more tolerant of interracial relationships these days.

  “Wow. Who let those two in here?”

  I groaned. I had about enough of this shit for today. Crossing my arms, I whipped around to speak my mind to whoever made the comment. “Seriously, asshole? Take your ignorant ass somewhere else—”

  My cousin’s eyes twitched wide, and he froze in his Timberland boots. “I was just joking, ‘cus. Damn.”

  I squealed, wrapping my arms around Derrick’s broad frame. He was a sight for sore eyes after all the drama today.