Separate But Not Equal

Chapter XVII

Slow.

Slowly, moping around school. Feeling like every word that the teacher said just entered through one ear and exited through the other in a matter of seconds struggling to restrain myself from clawing Lauren's smug smile off her face.

I spent ages looking for Christopher, maybe to explain what had happened before or to get an explanation i don't really know.

However, every time I got close enough to try to talk to him, he was with Lauren, Laura or Leah, and each time I tried to ignore them and gathered all the confidence to confront him, he simply threw his arm around Lauren and left.

This, for some reason, hurt even more.

I eventually gave up and realised that if Christopher doesn't want to talk to me, then he will do everything in his power not to talk to me.

That's exactly what I can recall from today.

Christopher's side smirks and flirtatious behaviour fuelling Lauren's need for attention.

So here I am.

At Whitby's.

For hours, I've been lifelessly grudging from customer to customer, praying for my peacefully quick death.

The news I heard a few minutes into my shift is interesting.

According to the man that currently manages the restaurant, Uncle Jones has moved.

He simply just left from Birmingham, to New York without giving any of us a warning.

Afterwards, being told that Uncle Jones was receiving death threats from anonymous addresses forcing him to leave his job at the restaurant changed my opinion, instantly.

I hear segregation isn't as harsh in New York.

Or any other state in America.

That life for black people isn't as unbearably painful.

Customers bounce through the door, endlessly, the front bell ringing through my head like a ticking bomb, gradually driving my insanity.

Time seems to pass you when you're fixating your mind on one subject.

I start to become almost convinced that I have served every single person in Birmingham.

This conclusion based off the struggle of washing around hundreds of dishes in less than one hour.

My hope of serving every single person in Birmingham quickly falls apart. Being proven wrong as Lauren, Laura, Leah and Christopher make their way, happily into the building.

Well Lauren, Laura and Leah happy, Christopher looks... reluctant.

Reluctant to be here? Or reluctant to be near me?

Most likely the latter.

Reluctant to be near me.

In my panic and anxiety, what do I do?

I go for the most pathetic excuse of an option and duck myself under the counter, almost smashing the plate that was being held in my hands, and stubbing my toe on the rough item causing me to hiss, uncannily.

The loud sound of high-heeled shoes echo throughout the room, leisurely clicking closer to my location.

Don't notice me.

Please, don't notice me.

"What on Earth are you doing under the counter?"enquires Lauren, the sound of her wining voice raising the levels of anger in my body with each passing second.