A Tangled Web We Weave (Completed)

3. Where A Black Kid Confronts White Demons

Israel

Today was already not a good day. I popped a tire on my Jeep, ripped a hole in my favorite pair of khakis, and the girl in my Math class that I had been flirting for two weeks now for help on the final had decided to that I "wasn't her type". I slammed my locker closed, reaching up to put my headphones in my ears as I turned around, but I stopped. And smirked. "Ay, it's my favorite two miscreants."

Hudson chuckled, "Israel, you wouldn't know, since you haven't been around for a while."

I shrugged, thanking God I didn't have basketball practice today and nodding a little. "I know, I know, that's on me. The party scene gets a little tiring when it turns into 'how many times can we hit the black kid before he passes out', ya know?" I started to walk away, but a hand on my arm stopped me. 

Cal quickly withdrew his hand. "We actually came to apologize about that."

I chuckled. "Really."

Hudson scuffed one of his shoes. "Listen, man, it shouldn't have gone that far."

"I shoved you away because you accidentally elbowed me in the face and then your buddies jumped me."

Cal rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "We were all drunk out of our minds."

"Doesn't excuse five guys versus one. At the three parties."

Hudson looked like he was about to say something obnoxious but stopped himself. "Dude, do you accept our apology or not?"

I shrugged. "Depends. Do you really mean it or-"

"Do you think we'd be standing here if we didn't?" Cal seemed genuine, but after the day I had been having, I didn't feel forgiving.

"Try renewing your claim again in 15 days and we'll see," I said over my shoulder as I walked away.

I heard them muttering behind me but I shoved my headphones into my ears and tried not to stomp away.

Cal and Hudson started their high school careers as most freshmen do; full of confidence and believing themselves to be cooler than they actually are. As the new kid, I was automatically a target, but they took me under their wing. I guess you could say they're mostly to blame for the popularity I have. But, for some reason, after summer break, I went from being a pal to being prey. The good-natured shoves in the hallway turned into "accidental" black eyes and bruises on my ribs. I could feel the friendship slowly going downhill until it hit rock bottom at McKenzie Pyle's party.

On my way home, I tried to ignore the voice in the back of my head (which sounded like my ball coach from 7th grade) that told me that I should forgive but it kept nagging at me. I fiddled with my earrings and checked my hair in the rearview mirror at the stop light. Why couldn't I stop thinking about freshman year?

As I walked in the front door, my French bulldog, Mimi, barked from her spot by the heating vent and my maid, Ashley, smiled up at me from behind the counter. Ashley, who's originally Turkish and whose real name I cannot pronounce, is about 5'3 and undeniably dwarfed by my father and me. I would be completely lost if she ever left, but I'm guessing her massive crush on my father will make her stay.

Before I could even slip off my shoes, my father's booming voice hollered, "Israel! I need you in my office now!" I rolled my eyes and sauntered through the kitchen, grabbing an apple on my way there.

Shawn Lewis Jr. was 46, a successful businessman, and a slowly recovering alcoholic. My father and I had never been close. I couldn't forgive him for disappearing behind a bottle after my mother's funeral. He couldn't forgive my self-righteousness and refusal to go into the family business. I wanted to go into the military; my father thought I had a suicide wish. I wanted to serve God and country; my father generally served himself.

Shawn looked up from his pile of papers and nodded towards the chair in front of his desk. "Take a seat, son." He clasped his hands together and stared at me from over his reading glasses. "How was school?"

I lifted my eyebrows. "This is what we're doing right now? We're gonna-" I cut off, deciding to discuss the argument we'd had last night at a later time. "School was great, Dad. Just dandy. How was work?"

"It was good," he replied, studying my face for a moment. "Israel, as you know, your mother has been gone for five years now and I feel it's time for me to move on."

I didn't blink. "Did Hannah finally divorce her husband?" I put my hand to my chin as though I was thinking. "Or was her name Savannah?"

He glared. "That's enough. I've met a someone and, uh, it's getting pretty serious. I just thought you would like to know." 

"Yeah, if you wouldn't mind keeping me in the loop about my own life, that'd be nice."

He slowly took off his reading glasses and carefully cleaned them with a tissue. "Her kids go to your school, you might know them."

I blinked. "Who?"

"I think she said their names were Calvin and Serena, or something like that."

I froze. "Cal and Sabrina?"

He snapped, shaking his head. "That's it, Cal and Sabrina."

I groaned. "You would chose their mom."

"What? I've met them and they seem like good kids."

"I was Cal's punching bag for weeks."

Shawn chuckled, shaking his head. "You're so funny, Israel. Cal's from a good family."

"What about my tone makes you think I'm kidding?"

"Did you guys into an argument?"

"An argument would be so much better than what actually happened. You remember freshman ye-"

"C'mon, Israel. They aren't like that."

I stood, pushing the chair back and walking out. "Good talk, Dad."