Chasin' Pavements
Chapter 1
"Why the hell are you still with him?" My best friend, Amelia, asked, fixing my makeup. I and John, my boyfriend on-and-on for about three years, had another one of our regular fights. He doesn't hit me, but he threatens to. I just cry a lot while we're yelling and cussing at each other. I opened my mouth to speak before I was cut off by her loud Latino/Brooklyn accent, "And don't give me none of that 'Because I love him' bull-crap, okay? Girl..." She trailed off. I laughed and rolled my eyes, "But I do." I reminded her. She sighed heavily and rolled her eyes, then opened them wide and glared at me, "Mami," The nickname she gave me, "you need to find a better man. 'Cause, baby, let me tell you, he ain't nothin'." She said, finishing my makeup. I looked down and nodded, she was telling the truth. I deserve better, but I won't take it. "I told you white kids were crazy anyway." She mumbled and she turned and put up her makeup brushes. I couldn't hold my laughter. This broad was crazy! "That's why yo' mama got with a black man! Know what I mean?" She added, smiling. I am half black and half white, born and raised in Austin, Texas. I have a skin-pigmentation, so my skin is really light! I have long light brown hair with natural highlights and green eyes. Where does my black side come in? My thighs, waist, and butt!
I wore a pair of faded skinny jeans, black furry boots, a black halter top, and a khaki sweater as I walked out into the warm breeze of New York City. I looked around. Dope dealers, hookers and hoes, dancers - Typical. I live in a bad part of town. Up until I was eight, I was a little country girl, growing up on a farm in Texas. Then, it all went down hill. My father lost his job and became an angry drunk. My mother had to work everyday just to barely pay the bills. Soon, we were one month behind on the house note, then one turned into two, two turned into three, and then we had no choice but to sale our house. Of course, once we lost the house. my father began to abuse my mother, then he left when I was nine. On the exact day that I turned ten, my mother and I moved to Bronx, New York, where she met the love of her life, Ceni. I, on the other hand, never met the love of my life until college. I graduated high school at a very young age. I was, what most would say, a baby genius.
I graduated from Harvard University, where I met John. When I graduated Harvard Law School, I and John's relationship went bad, and still is going in the wrong direction. I want to leave him, but my mind won't let me. I don't love him like I say I do. When he calls, I put my phone on silent. When he texts, I delete it. When I see him, I turn in the other direction. He doesn't support me. I want to go to Julliard, he doesn't think I can make it. "What are the odds of a lil' half white-wanna-be-full-black, girl with a country accent is going to be a successful 'hip-hop' dancer? Let alone graduating from Julliard?" He had told me. For a while, I started to believe him. Then, Amelia brought me back to my dreams.
I began to walk around the wonderful city of New York, loving the sounds of kids running around, cars honking, and birds "chirping". If you can get past all of the bad things you see on every street corner, you'd learn to love New York. I stuffed my hands in my pocket as I walked past a group of black boys rapping. I walked over, smiling as one of the guys was rapping. He was tall, light-skinned, broad at the shoulders, had long dark brown hair that was twisted in the front and straightened in the back. He wore a pair of red plaid Dickies and a white muscle shirt, red name brand shoes to top it off. I stood and listened to his deep words, when his eyes caught mine...
I wore a pair of faded skinny jeans, black furry boots, a black halter top, and a khaki sweater as I walked out into the warm breeze of New York City. I looked around. Dope dealers, hookers and hoes, dancers - Typical. I live in a bad part of town. Up until I was eight, I was a little country girl, growing up on a farm in Texas. Then, it all went down hill. My father lost his job and became an angry drunk. My mother had to work everyday just to barely pay the bills. Soon, we were one month behind on the house note, then one turned into two, two turned into three, and then we had no choice but to sale our house. Of course, once we lost the house. my father began to abuse my mother, then he left when I was nine. On the exact day that I turned ten, my mother and I moved to Bronx, New York, where she met the love of her life, Ceni. I, on the other hand, never met the love of my life until college. I graduated high school at a very young age. I was, what most would say, a baby genius.
I graduated from Harvard University, where I met John. When I graduated Harvard Law School, I and John's relationship went bad, and still is going in the wrong direction. I want to leave him, but my mind won't let me. I don't love him like I say I do. When he calls, I put my phone on silent. When he texts, I delete it. When I see him, I turn in the other direction. He doesn't support me. I want to go to Julliard, he doesn't think I can make it. "What are the odds of a lil' half white-wanna-be-full-black, girl with a country accent is going to be a successful 'hip-hop' dancer? Let alone graduating from Julliard?" He had told me. For a while, I started to believe him. Then, Amelia brought me back to my dreams.
I began to walk around the wonderful city of New York, loving the sounds of kids running around, cars honking, and birds "chirping". If you can get past all of the bad things you see on every street corner, you'd learn to love New York. I stuffed my hands in my pocket as I walked past a group of black boys rapping. I walked over, smiling as one of the guys was rapping. He was tall, light-skinned, broad at the shoulders, had long dark brown hair that was twisted in the front and straightened in the back. He wore a pair of red plaid Dickies and a white muscle shirt, red name brand shoes to top it off. I stood and listened to his deep words, when his eyes caught mine...