Cedric's eyes narrowed as he gazed at Tommy. "You're my student, but I don't appreciate your way of talking and acting. You're not one of us, and if you don't change, you'll never fit in. Meet me at the library tomorrow during lunch, and we'll discuss this further."
Tommy's eyes widened, taken aback by Cedric's blunt words. He felt a surge of defensiveness, he wanted to retort- talk back, but Cedric's serious expression made him hesitate.
"Alright, I'll be there," he said finally, his voice laced with a mix of submissiveness and apprehension.
Hearing that, Cedric walked away, leaving Tommy dumbfounded. Well, why should he be surprised? His student tutor was white, after all and this was an white school.
He wouldn't even be surprised if the school might have given him a dummy as a student tutor. 'Hmph! That Cedric fella is sure a dummy!' With that, he began walking home.
Right in front of the dilapidated house, Tommy felt his hope dwindling. He wondered if attending that miserable school was any better than living in this rundown home.
Nevertheless, he trudged up the creaky stairs.
Four steps up, an old man called out to him. "Hey, got any letters to drop off for the landlord of this place?"
Tommy turned back, gazing at the man who carried a sack filled with letters. "Uh, good day, sir. Letters? To the landlord?"
Tommy thought to himself, 'I got a lot to say to the person responsible for this dump, but a letter?'
"Just hold on, sir."
Tommy searched through his bag for a pen and found one. He tore out a sheet of paper and wrote a few words on it.
"Oh, yes! This here's my letter for the landlord." He handed it to the old man, who took it with a curious expression.
"Ah, your letter, you say? Well, I'll be sure to get it over to him. But before that, let me ask you something." The old man looked at Tommy with a piercing gaze. "What do you think of this house, son? Be honest now."
Tommy hesitated, unsure of how to respond. But something about the old man's kind eyes put him at ease. Or was that a white man's trick?
"To be honest, sir... it's a piece of crap. Kentucky's gotta be way better, I reckon."
The old man chuckled. "Ah, I figured as much. A Kentucky kid, huh? Well, we'll see what that old Gregory is gonna say about that."
And with that, he turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving Tommy to wonder what he had just gotten himself into. 'Did I just…. Old Gregory? Oh geez!'
Tommy climbed fully to his room door, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle upon him like a heavy cloak.
He pushed open the door to his apartment, and the familiar scene greeted him immediately.
The room was still in disarray, with the dampness lingering in the air, a reminder of the leaky faucet he had attempted to fix earlier.
The smell of mildew and decay wafted up, a pungent reminder of the ongoing battle with the dilapidated apartment.
"Hmmm," Tommy let out a heavy sigh and dropped his bag on the floor, surveying the room with a mix of frustration and resignation.
Puddles of water still dotted the floor, a constant reminder of yesterday's mishap. He walked over to the faucet and tightened it once more, hoping against hope that it would finally hold.
The water dripped intermittently, its steady rhythm mocking him like a slow, sarcastic clap. "Mom, I need you now more than ever," he couldn't help but mutter.
He was barely holding back tears threatening to fall from his eyes.
"Hang tough, Tommy my boy," she had said, her voice resonating in his mind like a gentle whisper. "You can handle anything life throws at you, just like your old man and me."
He ran a hand through his hair, feeling the weariness seep into his bones like a cold mist. He was sad, he was frustrated, he was lonely. Still, he had no permission to give up yet.
He still had to carry on his father's legacy after getting the rights. He still had to prove himself at Shan'titon High, to show the world that he was more than just a small-town kid from Kentucky.
With a deep breath, Tommy steeled himself for the tasks ahead. He began cleaning up the water on the floor, his mind already racing with ideas for the painting contest the teacher had mentioned.
""Yeah, I reckon I oughta give myself a shot at them fancy skills and things, who knows? Might end up a real pro, haha!" he laughed out, getting to work.
He then positioned his thoughts to think the water on the floor would symbolize the obstacles in his path, and then with every towel-wrapped swipe of his hand, he felt himself overcoming all tys obstacles, one small victory at a time.
Soon Tommy fell asleep exhausted and he traveled to dream la la land.
In his dreams, memories intertwined with fantasies. He found himself back in Kentucky, reliving moments with Billy, his closest friend and crush.
Tommy found himself in a dark, dimly lit room, surrounded by an eerie silence. Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows, stepping into the faint light.
As the features became clear, Tommy's heart skipped a beat. It was Billy, his childhood crush, with piercing eyes and chiseled features that seemed chiseled from granite.
Billy's gaze burned with an intensity that made Tommy's pulse race.
"Why you pushing me away like that, Tommy?" Billy asked in a low, husky tone that sent shivers down Tommy's spine.
"Wh… y..you.." Tommy's dream-self stuttered, unsure of how to respond.
Billy's hand reached out, his fingers brushing against Tommy's cheek in a gentle caress. The touch sent waves of excitement through Tommy's body.
"You ain't gotta be afraid of me, Tommy," Billy whispered, his breath hot against Tommy's ear.
The warmth of his breath sent shivers down Tommy's spine, and he felt his heart racing with a mix of fear and excitement.
Billy's words were soft and reassuring, but Tommy's mind raced with conflicting emotions. He felt drawn to Billy, but also scared of the unknown, scared Billy would push him away again and call him 'different'.
Billy's hand lingered on his cheek, sending waves of excitement through his body.
Tommy's dream-self took a step back, trying to clear his head. But Billy followed, his eyes never leaving Tommy's face.
"Tommy, I'm here for you, buddy," Billy whispered, his voice full of conviction. "I want to help you through everything, Tommy."
Tommy's heart raced faster, his mind torn between fear and desire. He felt like he was drowning in Billy's eyes, unable to look away.
Suddenly, Billy's lips were inches from his, and Tommy's heart skipped a beat.
Billy's lips brushed against Tommy's, sending shivers down his spine.
The kiss was soft and gentle, yet it ignited a fire within Tommy. He felt himself melting into Billy's embrace, their hearts beating as one.
As they kissed, the darkness of the room receded, replaced by a warm, golden light. Tommy felt like he was floating on air, his worries and fears left behind.
Billy's arms wrapped around him, holding him close. "Now, you're mine, black boy," he whispered, his voice full of possessiveness and something else Tommy couldn't quite understand.
Tommy's heart overflowed with emotion, but with the words Billy just said, he knew at that moment that this wasn't his Billy.
Billy was the supportive type but possessive? Never.
Tommy pulled out slowly from the kiss, looking into the eyes of Billy in the darkness but those eyes were no longer black like Billy's. They were….
"Ahh!!!!"