Black Power |An Interracial Eminem Fanfiction|

~Five~

{Marshall's a bit of a twat in this part. Sorry😭}

Marshall was holding a boom box, playing some underground record that Ajala did not recognize. It seemed to be a Beastie Boys song, which is the only rap artist Ajala did not listen to because they were white. But there were no words, so Marshall must have been rapping over it. It slightly angered Ajala that he could walk around claiming to be black and using her peoples' music to make it his own. A part of her wanted him to be terrible. But another part wanted to see just how good he was.

Besides, he was with a fellow brother. He could not have been that awful, Ajala thought. As the sporadic, guitar packed beat spilled out, Marshall began rapping. Ajala cringed as he started. It was pretty slow for a Beastie Boys track but she kept up. She kept herself hidden behind a sharp ridge where she could see him but he could not see her.

The song was fairly terrible. It was maybe supposed to be about the difficult life of his parents and him but it was about as well connected with the other metaphors as the scratchy beat emanating from the well worn boom box. But as Marshall stood there in his baggy clothes she had seen before, his brown hair coiffed up atop his head and his eyes sparkling in the overcast light, she developed an attraction toward him. It sickened her to the core as she began to think about everything she had just heard at the meeting. And Anté with his handsomeness.

Her mind was swirling like a snow globe as she barely heard the rest of the maybe seven minute freestyle. She was so wrapped up in everything and the strange attraction, she had failed to notice that Marshall and that other kid had packed up and was heading to the corner. She had to think quick, they would be in her exact spot in less than three seconds. The door was bordered up so she could not escape into the old shop directly to her left. But there was the store a foot down the sidewalk.

Ajala booked it down the way, her shoes pounding against the beige gravel. She slammed herself in the door. The assistant woman who looked to be about ninety nine sat behind the counter, her dimpled dark skin rising up and down while she slept or potentially died.

She slid by the door as Marshall and the kid walked by. The kid laughed, revealing his pure crooked teeth, which looked shocking white against his dark, wild dreads and dark smooth skin. She heard Marshall's conversation.

"Yo, it's this one girl, though. She's got this crazy huge afro and these beautiful eyes. And that body, Jesus Christ." Ajala's ears perked up at the girl being her. A sweet and sticky feeling overtook her insides as she thought about what Marshall saw in her.

"Really? Ain't she a senior?" The dreads guy said. They were walking amazingly slow, allowing Ajala to eavesdrop on their conversation.

"Yeah. She got a boy though. But my God, if she ain't fine." Marshall sounded totally love struck. Ajala's heart dropped to her stomach. They were talking about wShe ran over to the other side of the convenient store to the large window to hear the rest. She ducked down underneath the window to not appear as obvious.

"Mhm. But we broke up right now." He said as Dreads laughed.

"Bro, does that hot senior got any cute friends?" Dreads inquired. They were a bit farther away but not so far for Ajala-Leigh not to hear the final blow against her.

"Yeah. It's this fat and ugly looking blitch who beat me up in the hall. That slut!" Marshall called out.

"Oh yeah, you told me about her."

"I swear, this girl is so fat and gross. She be looking like this." He said and puffed up his cheeks to maximum level to make Ajala seem like that fattest woman alive. They walked off, talking and laughing about her. A warm tear slipped down her cheek as a tap on the shoulder scared her.

It was a little girl with two dark, curly twists and a plastic barrette ending each one. She was wearing a pair of oversize jeans and a yellow polo that hung very loosely off the girls' scrawny frame. She held a small eyed, pink swaddled baby girl with an ebony skin tone. There was also a boy with loose fitting clothes, but chubbier and in overalls. His lips were practically swollen and he had a wide nose. He was blacker than night itself as the whites from his eyes stuck out from the rest of him. They looked like a little couple, but it was just Thomasine-Jane, who was seven holding Alessia-Sonya, who was one and standing with Nation, who was ten being the second oldest.

Ajala-Leigh felt beyond ashamed walking with these starving looking kids out of the store and back home. Back to her reality.

Anger arose in her again at the white man as she stomped, listening angrily to her siblings' simple days, longing for when her life was that uneventful...