July 31, 2017

Be My Mentor



Karola College’s campus was just as beautiful at night as it was in the daylight. The lamp posts around the quad illuminated the statues of the school’s founders, one for each path. Winston Aquinas’ granite eyes watched Andre trot his path until he reached the bridge. Andre still couldn’t get over how overwhelmingly white his soon-to-be freshmen class was; the emerald green of the grass and Victory by Puff Daddy and the Family blearing from the lacrosse field had distracted him during his college tour. He was happy his mother found three other black mothers to bond with during her stay. He wondered where the three black daughters had gone off to. He wondered if he’d find any other black people during his Freshman Summer Orientation, but he doubted it.


It was only after Andre crossed the bridge that he saw two black men and one of the daughters, Candace, hanging out at the front desk of his dorm for the weekend. He rushed to the door so quickly, he forgot to take his temporary swipe card out of his pocket and embarrassed himself by jerking on the door so hard he flew backwards when it didn’t open. One of the black men laughed as Candace opened the door for her new friend. “Hey. Are you alright?” she asked.


He brushed himself off as he stood and entered the building. “I meant to do that,” he replied.


“Sure, you did. Dumb shit like that is how people remember you: for better or for worse,” the man working behind the desk laughed. He was a short black man with a long goatee, his work shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal his scrawny arms.


The slightly overweight but finely dressed black man who hadn’t laughed approached Andre. “Don’t mind, Tyree. He’s had a slow, painful night cause he’s been behind that desk since 4pm.”


“I shoulda been outta here at 8, yo! Ain’t nobody ask me to work this double,” Tyree protested. Andre noticed the clock on the wall behind Tyree; it read 11:47.


“I’m Kain, by the way. And you are?” Kain extended his hand to Andre who was dumbfounded for some reason. He felt himself akin to the two men in the lobby for more reason than one.


Candace sprang into action again. “His name is Andre. He’s a little shy from what I’ve been guessing, but he’s good people. Yo, Andre, these guys are sophomores.” Michael looked at the men again and realized that Kain’s facial hair was as patchy as his own, Tyree’s face silkier than his. Them being a year older seemed to check out.


“Damn, girl. I wanted to make Dre guess how old we were.” Kain pushed Candace softly on the shoulder as he sauntered back over to his spot next to the front desk.


“It’s Andre, actually.”


“He speaks! And no, I think you’re more of a Dre. Or at least you will be when you start to get more comfortable with your sexuality.”


Andre blushed as a white student swiped into the building. He kept his head down until Tyree checked the student in and told them which hallway to head down. “I’m.. I’m bi, actually”


Kain smirked. “Please, sis, you’re just saying that; plenty of gays say the same thing. Ain’t no such thing as bi. Your walk says it all.”


Andre ignored his comment about bi guys. “My sister always said I walked funny. Shit, you think she knows, too?”


“Damn, boi, are you not out yet?” Tyree leaned over his counter.


“I mean, not completely. Like, I came out the last month of high school - and I plan on coming out at some point my first semester because fuck it, new school new me - but my family, no. No they don’t know. At least I don’t think they do.” Andre’s brow furrowed as he looked at Candace.


Candace put her hands up in defense. “Oh trust, I’m not gonna out you. My momma doesn’t know about me yet either.” Andre almost acted out in surprise but then he looked at what she was wearing: her hair dreaded with a snapback gingerly resting on top, a loose tank top with a t-shirt underneath, Nike Air Max (he guessed). He sprung over to Candace and hugged her tight. “Yo, you aight? We not that cool yet.”


“Let me linger a little longer,” Kain said. “He’s just happy to be around his new queer family.”


Andre released Candace from his grasp and turned to Kain and Tyree. “So you two, too?” They nodded. “So you two are…?”


Tyree and Kain laughed, Tyree a little harder than Kain. Kain crossed his arms and waited for his friend to catch his breath. “Boy, please,” Tyree started. “We go after the same niggas, not each other.”


Andre wondered if the two were rivals, looking them both over. After considering, he’d probably sleep with Tyree. Kain on the other hand, he seemed someone Andre could learn from. He carried himself with an air of total confidence and control. Without realizing it, Andre stared at him in admiration. Kain noticed.


“Well, listen, if ya’ll wanna hang out more, Tyree should actually be getting off in the next few minutes. You two are welcome to hang in our room if you want to avoid your white roommates for a little longer,” Kain offered. Like clockwork, a white girl with a green shirt like Tyree’s swiped into the building. She paused when she saw four black kids sitting around the desk.
“Oh, hey girl. Don’t mind them; they’re with me and we are definitely leaving,” Tyree said as he stood up with all his belongings already packed. He turned to Andre and Candace. “So ya’ll coming or naw?” The freshmen looked at each other and shrugged at each other, then nodded their heads.


Kain threw his arms around them. “Stick with us, young gays, and you too can survive the fuckery that is KaCo.” They mouthed “KaCo?” to each other. “KaCo. Karola College. Damn, ya’ll weren’t paying attention at all during ya’lls orientation, huh?”

~~~~

The demographic in the Cultural Resource Center (or CRC) was one completely opposite from the rest of Karola College. Everyday, students of color would study, eat lunch, or seek general refuge from their white peers in its third floor location of the Student Center. Tonight, however, a special event took place that drew in nearly every freshman of color who cared to be a part of the ethnic underground: The Mixer.


The Mixer, as its name implies, was a mixer held the second week of the Fall semester matching incoming students with upperclassmen in hopes that their transition into the college would be as smooth as possible. In its natural evolution, it became a mentor/mentee program that lasted year long occasionally leading to lifelong friendships.


Andre sat in a corner across from the glass door entrance. Now that the matching was over, he contemplated taking a plate of food back to his dorm, but he didn’t want to seem rude. Most of his friends from his pre-orientation the week prior were in attendance. He thought to say hello to Candace and the other girls he met during Summer Orientation, but they were too busy laughing with their new big sisters to look his way.


He turned his head and saw Jerry talking to Diaz, Andre’s RA. Diaz also happened to be Andre’s new mentor. Andre wasn’t sure why they had both been paired with him. Diaz seemed more than capable of handling two freshmen, but he seemed more of a match for Jerry. Both were from Brooklyn, business majors (at least Jerry intended on trying a few classes out), and loud as all hell. Though the CRC was a stew of conversation, their chat could be heard in its entirety by Andre.


“Yo, I’m telling you, don’t knock the cafe downstairs,” Diaz yelled. “Every thursday, the Mexican spot downstairs serves fried chicken burritos from the chicken spot next to them. Just don’t eat that shit every thursday; you don’t need to be gaining no freshman 15.”


“Nah, b. Never that.” Jerry and Diaz laughed. Andre mocked their laughing as he reached for his orange soda on the table next to them. He thought to join them, but his encounters with his RA weren’t too fruitful. He enjoyed hanging with his roommate Tyree more, who oddly enough was not in attendance. Andre realized it was not mandatory that everyone participated in the program. He only wished that at least a journalism major had signed up; that would have eased his frustration with not receiving his first pick.


He scanned the room again and saw Hank talking to an Asian upperclassman. He had never seen the Asian gentleman before, but Andre figured if anyone was going to match with White Hank it would be another minority within the minority group. It seemed like everyone had a better match than his.


A cackle broke out from the front corner of the room by the bookshelves. Andre hesitantly turned his gaze to the originator of the sound, though he already knew who it was from. There stood Kain laughing with his mentee Jared. Andre had only met Jared a few times in passing in the CRC, but he knew they were both apart of the same club. Partially thanks to what he thought to be his budding gaydar, but also because anywhere Jared was, Kain was right by his side. For a second, Andre thought Jared might have been Kain’s boyfriend, but after their first encounter Andre realized Jared was the gayer freshman. Jared and Kain would quote gay movie line after black movie line after chick flick line together, they complimented each other’s fashion, but the activity Andre deemed as their favorite was making him feel like a baby gay, which he was. He just hated the instant bond the two of them shared. If there was anyone he wished would have adopted two mentees, it was Kain.


Andre knew that the upperclassmen had a say in who they wanted to mentor, most of all talkative and persuasive Kain. It pained him to know that he wasn’t chosen, and he couldn’t figure out the reason why. He thought to go up to them or at least to join Diaz and Jerry’s conversation and eavesdrop on what they might be talking about.


“Hey. Andre, you aight, dawg?” Taylor asked. In his concentration, Andre hadn’t noticed his jock friend sneak up on him. He nodded he was fine. “Okay, I just wanted to make sure ‘cause you’re sitting by yourself and tearing up.”


Andre reached up to his left eye and wiped away the water that collected there. “No, I think I’m just tired. Yeah.. I stayed up too late and had an 8am class and I don’t really believe in naps. I, ah, I think I’mma head out.”


“Oh, aight. I’ll see you tomorrow then. GangGang!”


“GangGang,” Andre responded to his friend’s inside joke. He picked up his plate of food and left his half finished can of soda on the table. Diaz laughed at a reference Jerry made. Kain noticed as Andre left the CRC, making a note to himself to catch up with him later.

~~~~

April stormed out of Andre’s bedroom crying.  She was a good Christian girl he had been courting for the last month hoping she might be the Topanga to his Corey Matthews. He now doubted she was the one.


“Well, she took that better than I would have expected,” Ravi said.


Andre moped in front of his laptop. “Is it bad I don’t even feel like running after her?” Ravi shrugged. “We’re good though, right?”


“Dude, you’ve been a great roommate and friend. We’re boys for life no matter what. This is nothing.” Andre appreciated being spared a white direct roommate, though his white suitemates weren’t bad guys. There was just something about having an Indian roommate that liked a whole slew of white music that made the culture shock a lot easier to handle.


“Thanks, Ravi. You’re great, too.” Andre turned back around to face his laptop. “I guess I should do some damage control before she starts blabbing.”


“Yeah, she’ll probably tell her roommates and then it’ll just spread from there. What are you gonna do?”


Andre pulled up his Facebook profile and began typing into the status bar. “Andre M Drake is… BIG, minus the G. And… posted.” A smile flashed across his face as a weight lifted.


“Dude, that’s badass. Hell of a headline.” Ravi reached under his bed and pulled out two shot glasses. “Soooo, shot to celebrate.”


“As tempted as I am to start drinking, I’m gonna hang onto to my sobriety and just ride this coming out high.”


“Fair enough.” Ravi stored one of the shot glasses back in its case and reached for his cheap vodka. “One of these days we’re gonna get smashed together, man.” As he poured himself a shot, Andre watched the likes on his status pour in. He was pleased his friends were as accepting as he had hoped, even Taylor and Jerry.


A minute later, Kain liked his status and sent him a text. “Come over,” it read. “We should talk.” Andre felt giddy; he had never been summoned to Kain’s dorm before. He wondered if his act of bravery would be rewarded with Kain accepting him as an honorary mentee. Hopefully he’d be a part of the shopping trips he took Jared on, he thought.


“I’m gonna go for a walk. I’ll probably be back in an hour or so.”


Ravi chased his shot with the last of an old can of Coke. “Fresh out the closet and already patrolling for guys. Go, Andre, go!”


Andre shushed his roommate. He would have to get used to people making those kind of jokes, but he welcomed them. He felt this was the beginning of something beautiful.


~~~~

“It was horrible, Candace,” Andre said as his friend opened her door and he barged in. He paced the floor of her dorm as she took a seat next to her laptop and phone. “That was not what I wanted. Not what I went over there for. He… he tricked me. I’m, I’m just confused.”


Candace leaned in. “You know, you never said why you were coming over, so a lil background would be nice.”


He stopped pacing and caught his breath. “Sorry. Did you see my status?”


“Yes, congratulations. Don’t know why you had to make such a big deal out of it, b--”


“I didn’t want April telling everyone before I could.”


“Oh shit,” Candace sat at attention. “So that’s why you did that?”


“Yeah, but that’s not even the biggest part of my night.” Candace sat back so that Andre could continue. “So after I posted that, I got a text from Kain saying he wanted me to come over. I’m like ‘Oh, cool, maybe we’re finally gonna be good friends now that I’m out.’ Well, I go over there and he’s drinking wine, which is fine. You know, it’s Friday night and all. People like to unwind. He offers me a glass, too, but I say I’m good. You know me.


“So we’re talking for a bit in his bedroom because he doesn’t have a common room. He’s telling me how proud of me he is for coming out, even if it was as bisexual. I try to tell him I really think I am and that bi guys exist, but he just rolls his eyes and finishes his wine. He goes out into his kitchen to get another glass, so I snoop around his room a little bit. Nothing too out of the ordinary. Then I see lube on his nightstand. I look a little closer and see his dildo’s head sticking out from under the bed. But like, we all have needs, so I think nothing of it.


“That’s when he comes back into the room. Candace, he came back in a wifebeater and his underwear. ‘Do you like what you see?’ he asks me. I don’t know rather he’s talking about himself or his nightstand, so I don’t answer. I just look down, not sure where to look. He walks up to me and hugs me. He’s… soft, obviously. Very warm. And I could feel his… yeah, he was at attention. I was confused. I was turned on. I didn’t know what to do. So I just went along with it.


“I let him strip me down. He pushed me on his bed, and he started going down on me. He would come up occasionally to kiss me, but he used too much teeth on my lips. I didn’t even know that was a thing. I got a little hard, but not enough to do anything. I took my flaccidness as a sign, and I started to push him off me. I told him I had to go and got dressed as fast as I could. And now I’m here and I’m not really sure how to process all this. I just wanted to be friends with him. Learn from him.”


“Well, technically, he was about to teach you something,” Candace covered her mouth so that Andre wouldn’t see her smirking. “I’m sorry; that was rude. Are you gonna be okay?” She looked down at her phone as a notification flashed across the screen.


“Yeah, it wasn’t that traumatic. I just wasn’t expecting that. Like at all. Like, it’s not that I don’t find him attractive. I could. I just don’t. That sounds bad. It’s really not his size, though. Ugh. I just wanted him to mentor me. Is that so much to ask?” Andre collapsed on the floor next to Candace’s legs and leaned on them.


She pushed him off. “Well, it looks like he’s about to drag you. Kain just texted me about his time with you. He says you had erectile dysfunction.”

Andre didn’t respond. He had nothing to say anymore. He started to feel sorry he didn’t have any attraction to Kain; maybe things would have been easier. Maybe if he had sex with Kain, during their pillow talk he would have learned tricks of the gay trade. Maybe he would have discovered that all gay guys had sex with each other to get the sexual frustration out of the way so that they could be better friends. That’s how he met his best friend from high school, anyway. He wasn’t sure anymore. He tried to lean on Candace again, but she had stood up while he was lost in thought, texting Kain more. Instead he pulled himself up onto the couch and laid down, holding himself until he felt okay enough to walk home again.


~~~~


“Louis, you’ll be paired with… Andre.” Louis looked across the room to see Andre on his phone, his hand halfheartedly raised. He was on Grindr looking for a hookup, unsure of how to lead anyone to a better future, but he figured he couldn’t do a worse job than the year before him.

July 30, 2017

Too Many Good Deeds Go Unpunished



INT. LEAGUE OF MAELSTROM SECRET HQ, ASSEMBLY HALL - NIGHT

Mindstroke, supreme leader of the League of Maelstrom, stands behind a podium on the main stage of the Assembly Hall. His brain throbs atop his head encased in a strong, clear material. A large monitor floats behind him. Before him sit five rows of super villains, seats left open between many of them and four empty rows behind them.


MINDSTROKE
My brothers and sisters, let us not waste anytime. You all know why I called you in today.

[Miniscule, an inch high villain, sits on Vivacious shoulder.]

MINISCULE
(whispering into Vivacious’ ear) Because you wanted us to stare at your new brain display.

MINDSTROKE
Our numbers have dwindled and so has the amount of evil in the world. Why, just last year this hall was full of villains. Now there are less than half of us with the others either locked up, dead, or worse: converted.

[Villains boo.]

With so few villains out to cause havoc and chaos and general discomfort for people, the balance between good and evil is lost.

[He touches his finger to his temple and the screen behind him shows different graphs of evil doing and good deeds, flipping between different slides as he speaks]

As you can see, it’s looking to be about 78% good to 22% evil, but we want it somewhere more in the 60/40 region. Preferably in our favor, of course.

DIMATAP
Mindstroke, we didn’t come here for a lesson in statistics. Just get to the point!

MINDSTROKE
Hphm. Not even the accountant appreciates my slides. Fine.

[Dimatap crosses her arms]

We’ll skip ahead then.

[Mindstroke fast forwards until he gets to a slide of Earth from space’s perspective]

I’m afraid that if we don’t increase our wrongdoing, the Earth will sense the imbalance and begin to tilt out of orbit. When this happens, the Earth will spiral around the Sun until we crash into Venus or Mercury OR we disintegrate into the Sun. Although I’m sure we’ll all die of some natural disaster before any of those happen.

[Bernard raises his hand from the fifth row. Mindstroke huffs.]

Yes, Bernard?

BERNARD
Actually, my goal is to see the Earth destroyed by it crashing into the sun, so I’m fine with this. I’m just gonna go. Thanks for the cookies and juice box, though. Made for a great mixer.

[Bernard gathers his snacks and heads for the door]

MINDSTROKE
Ugh! What kind of villain name is Bernard anyway? Bernard.

[Bernard throws up a middle finger. Mindstroke sends a bolt of electricity from his brain towards Bernard. When it hits his middle finger, it is redirected at Mindstroke who ducks behind his podium just in time to miss the hit.]

BERNARD
The kind that doesn’t reveal my superpower, jerkwad. Good luck trying to stop Earth from tailspinning.

[Bernard exits]

MINDSTROKE
Fuckin’ Bernand.

[Jigger raises her hand]

Yes, um… actually, I don’t know your name.

JIGGER
Jigger, sir.

MINDSTROKE
Oh yes, one of the recent promotees from the henchmen branch. Glad to have you among us. What is it?

JIGGER
Well, I’m new and all - and I trust you when you say all this because your brain is so ridiculously huge - but if the Earth is really going to roll out of its orbits, wouldn’t the heroes be worried about it, too?

MINDSTROKE
No, my dear, because the heroes are idiots. Wacko and his lackeys don’t believe in the Balance, let alone that it could throw a planet off. They’re more concerned with eradicating all evil so they can look perfect in the public’s eye. Sadly, it’s working.

[Vivacious, a curvy but powerful man, stands up. His chesticles jiggle with every word he speaks.]

VIVACIOUS
So what are we going to do about this conundrum then, oh great and powerful Oz?

[The villainous audience is shortly hypnotized by Vivacious’ chest. Mindstroke waits until most of them snap out of it to respond.]

MINDSTROKE
Well, it’s simple really: recruitment. And please cover yourself so I don’t have to wait for these idiots to snap out of their stupor every time you speak.

[Vivacious complies]

MINISCULE
Awwww.

VIVACIOUS
Recruit who exactly? Civilians? Why don’t we just promote more grunts like Digger over there?

JIGGER
Jigger. My name is Jigger, actually.

VIVACIOUS
Honey, you should really consider changing your name before someone else calls you out of it.

MINDSTROKE
Not civilians. They’d take too long to train. No, no, I’m talking about those already on the edge. If Wacko has been able to convert our men, why shouldn’t we go after a few of his?

MINISCULE
(through her tiny megaphone) Because we tried that before and it didn’t work. Remember The Yankee.

VIVACIOUS
Yeah, that kid nearly blew his own brains out. We just ended up sending him to the looney bin.

MINDSTROKE
That kid already had his problems before we got to him; we just misread him. No, we need to be more careful and go after the right people. I’ve been training myself to be more connected to the Balance, and I’ve discovered someone very close to Wacko can be turned.

[Mindstroke changes to a slide of a hero with spiky black hair, a black face mask, and a grey t-shirt]

Jonny Lightning.

DIMATAP
No way.

JIGGER
Oooo.

VIVACIOUS
You’re kidding me. Your--

MINDSTROKE
Just look at him. This is him two months ago. And this--

[Flipping to the next slide, his arms are covered in black.]

--is him now. His body is already changing. There’s a darkness consuming him; he won’t be able to find the light much longer. And when he’s down, we’ll be there to catch him before Wacko has a chance to save him. With him on our side, there’s no telling the trouble we’ll be able to cause.

VIVACIOUS
And how exactly are we supposed to do that? I doubt he’ll listen to any of us. Actually, I know for a fact Wacko would never let any of us close enough to him.

MINDSTROKE
Which is why the lovely Jigger will be going undercover. Well, not undercover per say. She’ll just be transferring schools to get closer to the boy thunder.

JIGGER
I will?

MINDSTROKE
Why, of course. You want to prove yourself as valuable to the League, don’t you? You didn’t graduate to the adults’ table for nothing. Or do you want to see the Earth burn to a crisp?

JIGGER
N-no. I can do it. I just don’t think--

MINDSTROKE
Leave the thinking to me, my dear. You’ll be fine. Miniscule, you’ll be accompanying her to make sure everything goes smoothly.

VIVACIOUS
Now wait a minute!

[Vivacious drops the blanket he used to cover himself. The other villains are hypnotized.]

MINDSTROKE

Vivacious, how many times do I have to tell you, claim your tits!



July 29, 2017

Typically 6PM





Now’s the time I usually get home from practice. Now’s the time my mom usually asks if I showered before I came home. Now’s the time I usually lie while hoping my application of deodorant is sufficient enough. Now’s the time a wonderful smell hits my nose. Now’s the time my dad usually has dinner on the table. Now’s the time I usually try to sneak my plate into my room. Now’s the time my dad usually forces me to sit at the table with them. Now’s the time I usually avoid telling them about the redheaded guy I like or the test I almost failed. Now’s the time my mom usually tells me about a new artist she heard on the radio. Now’s the time I usually tell her they’ve been around for months. Now’s the time my dad usually tells me to stop teasing my mom. Now’s the time I usually ask if I can go out with Adam and Julie. Now’s the time I usually have to beg I won’t get into trouble again. Now’s the time they usually say ok as long as I’m back before midnight. Now’s the time I usually know I’ll break curfew again. Now’s the time I usually know no matter how late I am they’re be there to love me.

Today’s the day the redheaded guy kisses me after practice. Today’s the day I come home at 7:22. Today’s the day my mom’s car isn’t in the driveway. Today’s the day I don’t smell dinner when I walk through the door. Today’s the day my dad is lying on the kitchen floor. Today’s the day I step in a puddle of blood. Today’s the day my mom isn’t picking up her phone. Today’s the day I wish my dad would sit at the table with me. Today’s the day the operator struggles to understand me through my sobbing. Today is different. Usually it’s not.

July 28, 2017

Monologue for Young Adults 2


I’ve always thought plants were just trying to reclaim the Earth from settlers. You know, they say we evolved from apes, but what if we’re actually aliens that got strained here years ago and have been making the best of a shitty situation ever since. I mean, it would make sense why so many people don’t care about recycling or destroying the ozone just so they can keep making a profit. It’s weird. And allergies! Like, think about it. People are allergic to things that grow out of the ground. That doesn’t seem like intelligent design to me.

But no, really, I think Mother Nature is at war with us. Back to the allergies, trees and plants release pollen just to fuck with our sinuses. I’m out here choking to death every May and July because I don’t want big medicine fucking with my body chemistry, hoping by body will evolve. Some cool nostril flaps would be nice. ...ok, fine, they’re trying to pollinate and reproduce. But consider this: more than one thing can be true. Huh, yeah, how ‘bout that?

Like, these plants are out to get us. The other day, I was doing some landscaping when I saw it. I bent down to pull off a thin vine from my chain link fence, and I saw the little fucker actually creep and crawl and wrap itself around the metal. It was the most surreal thing I’ve ever seen. Like, plants are really alive. So of course I killed that motherfucker before it could claim anymore of my land. Like that abandon mansion a mile south of the arts museum. You’ve seen it: completely covered in vines and moss. That shit isn’t natural art; that’s conquest. And yeah, all this green shit supplies us with air and food and atmosphere and whatever, but I, for one, refuse to coexist with simple organisms trying to take my land away.

And that’s why I don’t want your stinking rose, April. Attracting me with its cuteness just so it can stab me with its thorn. Fuck outta here! Can’t fool me.

July 27, 2017

Gray Scales



“Trina is definitely the baddest bitch!” Jerry shouted in a heavy Brooklyn accent. “Ain’t no Azealia Banks or Nicki Minaj’s about it.” McNaughty 303 was having another one of their usual kitchen table debates.

“Are we talking looks or rhyming ability? Cause if it’s looks, I can definitely see you giving it to Trina.” Though relentlessly Irish, Hank had no problem discussing black artists. He was cultured, respectful, and overall likable.

“See, listen to your president; he knows what’s up.” Jerry nodded at his roommate.

“Just cause he leads all the black kids on campus don’t mean I gotta agree with him,” Taylor said as he drank his gin and juice. There were beer cans and red cups littered all over the common room from the party the night before. Every now and then the gentle October breeze would sneak through the partially opened balcony door moving the debris around the apartment. “Jerry, how are you not saying Foxy Brown? Like that’s blowing me. She’s from your hood!”

Jerry threw up his hands. “Listen, I got nothing but respect for her. But Trina came with the bars more consistently. Plus, I ain’t tryna hear that raspy ass voice when I’m tryna be knee deep in that, knahmean.”

“Naw, ya’ll got it wrong,” Andre, the dorm’s frequent guest, chimed in. “It’s all about Missy Misdemeanor. Bars. Flows. Dance moves. Sockin’ it to you like ‘ooo ahh.’”

“Man, shut up, Andre. You just tryna stir shit up.” Taylor didn’t want the convo derailed again.

“Oh, just cause I’m gay I can’t have an opinion on bad bitches? I’m just supposed to sit here and be quiet and drink all your liquor, cause I will. It’s just not as fun. But you know who is bad…. 50--”

“Don’t.” Taylor stopped Andre who just cackled as he made himself another drink. The four had been close friends since their freshman year, spending most of their time together. When they became sophomores, Jerry, Hank, and Taylor decided to live together, but Andre enjoyed being an outlier. In actuality, Andre wanted to live with his crush, which didn’t pan out as expected. After he confessed his love and sobbed when he was rejected, the two of them became closer friends and roommates.

This left the others as an awkward threesome in an even-numbered housing operation, unless one of them became an RA, but not even sober Jerry wanted to walk around telling kids what they could and couldn’t do. Year after year, student life gifted them with a new roommate, each one a different Karola University white stereotype. Sophomore year, it was Adam: the a cappella nerd. He mostly ran off on his own with his singing buddies, but when he was around he only talked to Hank. Junior year, there was Rudy: the guido. He and Taylor initially bonded over their love for the Jersey Shore reality show and working out, but eventually got into a drunken fight when Rudy made a move on Taylor’s girlfriend at the time. Hank enjoyed the last two months of that year with a room to himself.

Senior year, due to Karola’s poor retention rate, it seemed like Hank might enjoy the same privilege. However, a week into the Fall semester, he received an email from student life informing him that a transfer student would be moving in. Who transfers their senior year?

“What are you guys talking about?” Bretley emerged from his dark room rubbing his eyes still in sweatpants and a lacrosse pinnie. Though he didn’t play anymore, his 6’2” stature helped him appear athletic. He walked across the common room to his mini-fridge and pulled out mini-quiches.

Ever the diplomat, Hank responded. “We were talking about who’d we bang out of female hip hop artists.”

“Oh, Iggy Azalea, hands down.” The room gave Bretley chilling glares that he didn’t pick up on. “Anybody want one of these? They’re mad good.”

“Nah we’re good,” Jerry turned around in his chair.

“Actually, I’ll take one.” Andre snatched one off the tray as soon as Bretley laid it on the table. “Mmm, these aren’t bad. You make ‘em yourself?”

“Naw, my mom shipped them down to me. I’ll tell her you like ‘em, though, bro. You guys can go ahead and finish those if you want. I’m about to head across campus and - uh - meet up with somebody. But I see ya’ll are drinking, so shot?” Bretley ran back into his room and returned with a bottle of Belvedere the bigger than his of his torso. Andre had to restrain himself from jumping at the opportunity. Without anyone responding, Bretley poured four shots and handed them out to the drinkers. They cheered and downed them. “Alright, boys. You have a good night. I’ll probably be back. Ciao.” He grabbed his coat and walked out the door.

“Ciao, bro. Later, bro,” Hank mocked almost as soon as the door closed. “What a douche.”

“Hey, hey. A rich and generous douche.” Andre ate another mini-quiche.

Taylor slapped Andre’s hand from grabbing another. “Stop validating him, yo.”

“I’m sorry. If the 1% living among us wants to buy our friendship, I’m gonna pretend like it’ll work. Besides, I’m broke, nigga, I’m broke. Let that man supply as he will.”

“I just wanna know how dude has so much money,” Taylor wondered.

“The guy’s name is Bretley Montgomery Kingsford IV. It’s definitely his parents. Look at him; that pretty boy ain’t never worked a day in his life!” Jerry shouted.

Hank smirked. “You know he asked me a couple days ago to bring him to the next BSA meeting?” Everyone in the room called his bullshit. “No, straight up. I was out here planning out the next meeting with Candace and dude comes out and starts asking why there’s a group for all the black students and not the white kids. I was surprised Candace didn’t curse him out. Although she did leave shortly after looking vexxed. Then dude congratulates me on infiltrating a group like that and asked me how he could get in on it. I just told him we already met our diversity quota and took a shit until I heard him leave.”

“Yo, we gotta get him the fuck up outta here.” Jerry pointed his thumb to the door behind him, and on cue, someone knocked/

The friends froze and looked around. Taylor whispered, “Yo, did he forget his key?” He rose slowly from his chair and looked into the peephole.

“Campus police; open up. We see your light’s on.” They knocked again. The three around the table started to clean up the mess around them, but they remembered they were all 21 and stopped. Taylor opened the door. “Evening, gentlemen. Looks like you’re having a good time tonight,” Officer DeMarco said, ready to tease out their visit.

Officer Jericho just wanted to get in and out. “We got an anonymous tip. We’re gonna have to search your place.”

“Hold up, an anonymous tip about what?” Jerry asked, but he received no answer. Officer Jericho made a beeline for Hank’s room like he knew what he was looking for. His partner followed, tailed by Taylor and Jerry. “Ayo, what ya’ll doing in my man’s room like this? This ain’t right. Where ya’ll paperwork at?”

“Found it. Right where they said it would be.” Officer Jericho pulled out a pound of cocaine and a small scale from behind Hank’s dresser. “Whose is this?”

Hank appeared in the door frame. “This is my room, but that ain’t mine. I’ve never seen that before.”

“Yeah, sure. We’re gonna need you to come with us, son.” Officer Jericho handed the package to Officer DeMarco and reached for his handcuffs.

“Naw, naw, fuck that. Hank said that shit ain’t his, so it ain’t his. It’s gotta be Bretley’s,” Jerry defended his best friend.

Officer DeMarco asked, “Is that the kid still sitting in the living room?” Andre’s body was frozen in place. He didn’t know what to do around police officers even if they were only equipped with flashlights.

“You know damn well ain’t no black dude named Bretley.” Taylor crossed his arms and positioned his body between the officers and Hank.

“Well, we were told a white student was selling drugs out of this room, and he fits the description. So until this other kid shows up, we’re gonna have to take your friend in for questioning. Actually, you all need to come in. Let’s go.” Officer Jericho called into his radio for backup.

The dorm erupted as Jerry and Taylor argued with campus police. Hank shouted over them, trying to get his friends to calm down, telling them everything would work out. Andre continued to sit at the table, drink in hand now. He gulped it as he thought of the headline his editor would force him to write after finding out about the situation: White BSA Pres Caught Slinging That White. He finished his drink, poured another for the road, and snuck out onto the balcony and onto the staircase next to it. He walked away from his friends, knowing there was nothing he could do for them, hoping they wouldn’t feel like he had abandoned them. He ran.