I Fell In Love with a Minority!

Flewed Out

"Cashley! What are you doing here?" I run over to her.

"Yericela! Are you okay? Everyone's been looking for you!" Cashley was so surprised to see me, but also looking as if she was worried.

We stare at each other for a while in disbelief, and I think of ways to succinctly explain how I ended up here in the capital of Croatia. We go to a corner of the store. I hope she's alright. After we assure each other that we're okay, we start spilling.

"Alright, Cashley, let's just tell each other together, on the count of three." I didn't think she would take me seriously if I told her why I was here, "Alright, one, two, three—"

"I was kidnapped by Michael B Jordan to teach him how to be a minority in the whitest country in the world."

"I was flown out by my Emirati fiancé to get secretly married while both of our families don't know."

HAHAHAHA. Both of our reasons sounded unbelievable coming out of our mouths, but, with my story, I know anything is possible. I didn't even know Cashley was getting married, and I didn't even know that she found her husband-to-be while she was abroad in Dubai. Just a few days ago, we were getting doughnuts with Ceelen. Who would've thought that both of us would be in Croatia, out of all places, at the same time, for the sketchiest reasons?

We walk around the mall and talk a little more, to assure each other that we're safe. Cashley doesn't know how long she'll be here, and I told her that I should be here for the rest of the semester. We promised each other that we won't tell anyone else at BU, and we exchanged WhatsApp numbers just in case. Cashley even asked me to be a part of the wedding! As weird as it is, it's so good to know that I'm not completely alone here and that I could probably sneak out to meet with her throughout the semester.

Minutes later, we go our separate ways (she has to go dress shopping) and I make my way back to Primark. Seeing her reminded me how much I miss BU and home, my paradise city. Lori is still where I left her, not even noticing that I was gone. Minutes later, she finishes shopping, and we head home.

***

"And tomorrow, right after your classes, we will start with Race Theory training" Michael was explaining to me his priority education with us over dinner, "Someone in the press told me that not all minorities look the same, and I thought that was such an insightful comment that I really want to learn and understand where she's coming from. I mean, I haven't heard anything like that before. "

Tonight is our first night in the Croatia, and for dinner, Michael, Pac, and Lori thought it would be cool to have my favorite food: Sopes. As seamless as I'm trying to make this, I cant help but think how weird this whole fiasco is, and I recognize how I have yet to process it all. This entire trip humors me, and I cant help but chuckle at Michael taking this so seriously. He pauses once he hears me chuckle.

"Well, okay, should I prepare in any way?" I try to show Im not taking his problem as a joke, but I don't expect him to say anything.

Michael thinks and says, "Would it be too much for you to make a slideshow presentation?"

"Uh- okay," WHAT? Im trying so hard not to laugh.

"Yes, thank you so much!" Michael claps his hands, "Could you even include a couple pictures, charts, graphs or something that proves this theory?"

Now, I'm trying really hard not to laugh, so I just nod my head and eat faster. I have to include charts to show that not all minorities look the same?! After sitting in an awkward silence, Lori tried to start conversation, "Yericela, did you know that Michael loves Anime? Do you watch anime?"

Before I could answer, Michael asks, "Lori, how do you know I watch anime? No one knew that but Pac."

"Oh- I-uh just took a wild guess!" She stammers and tries to clean it up. It doesn't seem like Michael is upset about it, but he looks more weirded out.

"I actually didn't know that," Pac mumbles in between Lori's stutter. I think I was the only one who caught that, and we share a quiet laugh.

After dinner, we go to our separate rooms and I do my nightly routine. I look out of the window in my new home. Processing the day, I just take it all in. I guess tomorrow morning I'll start my presentation on Race Theory after my classes—the humor in showing Michael B. Jordan how not all minorities look the same.

I chuckle again, sigh and prepare my lullaby. The words to Three 6 Mafia's "Poppin My Collar" pull me to sleep, and I drift into a dark abyss.