We Know Better

Genitals and Halloween Plans

 On Monday, I am still not in the mood for conversation. I sit at the lunch table and I keep my face on my folded arms in front of me. I can hear one of the people in our group talking with her boyfriend. There was a time when I would consider her a friend, but that was before I gave up on trying to be friends with people that I do not like for the sake of having friends. There was also a time when I was happy for her and her boyfriend when they got together. Their relationship had started a lot like Alessa and Chris' relationship. Except when she and her boyfriend actually talked about what they were doing they understood that they both liked each other enough to be exclusive. Soon after that, they had little reservations when it came to PDA. If they are not talking shit together, then they have their tongues down each other's throats.

Right now they are talking shit and they are talking it about me. I am sure they know that I can hear them, but I do not think they care. They are not the type of people who care. The topic is my hair. It is in a ponytail like usual and it is a puff ball like usual. I am a mixed baby, mainly of black and white. My hair has never been a friend of mine. I know it is something that I need to work on, but it is hard when you grow up in an incredibly white, conservative neighborhood, and town, to love your blackness.

For me it is even more complicated than that, because I take after my mother who looks very much like a white person and, believe it or not, is the blackest one between my parents. My father is the one with the white mother and black father. So when they popped me out they popped me out with passably white skin and not even close to white-passing, black hair. To say the least, it is one of my biggest insecurities, right next to the big hips my mother burdened me with.

"It's so poofy," Becca's voice drawls. "It's just so black."

"Yeah, it's gross," Danny's lazy voice adds.

I gave up long ago trying to argue or call them out. Danny is about as white as you can get, but Becca is Mexican so she automatically feels like that gives her a pass. And do not even get me started on the amount of times I heard the "but I love black people," response. You just learn to ignore. I have learned to ignore a lot in my life. I just want the bell to ring so that I can go to class.

Eventually it does, and when I bring my head up I have to blink a few times to let my eyes adjust. When they do, I realize my binder is not next to me where I had left it. The people at this table have a habit of touching people's things without asking and having little care about how they treat it. I sigh and begin looking around. When I finally spot it it is all the way across the lunch table. No one thought to give it back. A moment or two later, my eyes fall on Brendon. He picks up my binder and walks over to me. I duck my head, thank him, receiving a "yeah" in response, and then rush off to my class.

On Tuesday, at lunch the topic of conversation is whether or not we want to attend the school's Halloween dance or not. Our "group" is split into two sects, one is like Danny and Becca, the other is my immediate group of friends. The thing that still holds together the main group are the few people who jump between the two sects like Alessa, Jon, Ray, and Chris. I try to stay as far away as possible from the other sect. All they do is degrade and shred anything they can get their hands on, well most of them do. People like Cal and Alec tend to just go with the flow and smoke weed. My sect does not really do much. We go to Chris or Ray's house and sit around watching movies and shows or we play video games. I have nothing against it, but when it comes to events like Halloween it can get a little old when you think about the people going to parties.

Of course, the majority of our group is against the school dance, but offer little else in way of plans. I truly do not care if we go to the dance or not, but I want to do something. Something that will be more than what I would do if I was alone, which is sitting around the house watching things. I guess I should be happy that I even have friends to sit around and watch movies with. The thing is: I like just spending time together, but sometimes I want to party. Sometimes I want to get all dressed up and go to some high school party with drinking and dancing. I love my friends, I do, I just want a change.