"Just toss the plate and cup when you're finished."
Tommy's response surprised even himself, his words coming out with a confidence he didn't know he possessed.
"Take out your own trash, man. I ain't your garbage collector," he said, his eyes locked on Benjamin's, a small spark of defiance igniting in his chest.
Perhaps because he really hoped Benjamin wouldn't discard the expensive-looking glass he used.
But Benjamin, as expected of the devil's spawn, grabbed the plate and glass cup and threw them into the trash can, then quickly returned to sit, scribbling in his blank book.
Tommy felt more than annoyed; he felt a bit heartbroken. 'How come they white folks think they can just keep on breaking spirits?'
Deciding to leave, Tommy stood up from the bed and looked at Benjamin. "Appreciate the grub, but I don't want to pollute the air you breathe with my presence. Later, man."
He turned to walk away, his shoulders squared, his head held high. But Benjamin's voice stopped him in his tracks.
"And did I tell you to scram?" he asked, his tone firm, his eyes narrowing slightly, a hint of authority in his voice.
Tommy's jaw clenched at Benjamin's authoritative tone. He turned to face him, his frustration boiling over. "You think you can tell me what to do? You ain't my master, man."
Benjamin glanced up from his notebook, his gaze cold, his eyes piercing through Tommy's defiance.
"No, but I can make your life in SHS real tough if you keep pushing me," he said, his voice low, even, and menacing.
"Tch!" Tommy scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief, his eyes wide with incredulity.
"You must think you're the Almighty Himself, tryin' to lord over me like that!" he asked, his voice laced with sarcasm, his tone dripping with disdain.
Benjamin leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
"A guy you just can't turn away from," he said, his voice dripping with confidence, his rare eyes glinting with a knowing light, as if he held a secret that Tommy couldn't quite grasp.
Tommy's anger flared, his fists clenched, his heart racing with indignation. But he knew arguing further would only escalate things, and he didn't want to give Benjamin the satisfaction.
With a deep breath, he sat back down on the bed, his movements stiff, his eyes fixed on the floor.
"Tch!" Benjamin scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain, his eyes never leaving his notebook.
"So, tell me why you're here at Shan'titon High," Benjamin said, his eyes still fixed on his notebook, his pen paused mid-sentence.
Tommy's initial instinct was to reply angrily, "Who are you to interrogate me, brother? You ain't the police." but he bit back the retort, remembering Benjamin's warning.
He didn't want to risk getting into trouble, not when his goal was to get his rights back from Mr. Charlene. He needed to stay in school, get good grades, and prove himself worthy.
"Care to swap my dirty sock for your thoughts?," Benjamin said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, his eyes glinting with amusement, as if he knew exactly what Tommy was thinking.
Tommy hesitated, then began to speak, his words measured, his eyes fixed on the floor. "I'm here to get my learn on, man. And to show folks that we're just as capable as anyone else."
"That's the line they all give," Benjamin said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Tommy's eyes narrowed, his brow furrowed in confusion. "What, man?" he asked, his tone sharp.
Benjamin's gaze never wavered. "That's what all your kind say," he repeated, his words laced with sarcasm. "But in the end, they don't last more than a week or two. They think they're tough and capable, but they can't handle a little bit of pressure."
Tommy's face darkened, his anger simmering just below the surface. He knew Benjamin was trying to get under his skin, but he refused to let him win.
"What makes you think I'm just another face in the crowd, brother?" he asked, his voice low and even.
Benjamin looked up from his notebook, a hint of a smirk on his face.
"Just saying, kid, you're not exactly the most promising material. You're here on a scholarship, and we all know how those usually turn out."
Tommy's anger boiled over, but he knew he couldn't let Benjamin get to him. He took a deep breath and stood up, his eyes locked on Benjamin's.
"I'll make you eat your words," he said, his voice steady. "I'll make it through this place, man. And I'll rise above all the doubts and fears. You can bet your bottom dollar on that!"
"Tsh!" Benjamin sneered, his eyes glinting with amusement.
"Quit acting all tough and tell me who sent you here on scholarship, Kid?" he taunted, his voice dripping with condescension.
Tommy's eyes flashed with anger, but he bit back a retort. "I didn't need no scholarship to be here, man," he said through gritted teeth. "My name is Tommy Jones, man. Don't be callin' me no 'Kid' or nothin' else. Show some respect!"
Benjamin chuckled, a cold, mirthless sound. "I know you, Tommy Jones," he repeated, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "And I'll call you whatever I damn well please. Now, spill it. Who's the benefactor paying for your little adventure here?"
Tommy sighed, feeling a familiar sense of frustration and helplessness wash over him. He was no match for this tyrant in human form.
"Mr. Charlene," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "He's my pop's ace boon man. They go way back."
"Yo! I know Mr. Charlene, and I can swear he had no black friends," Benjamin said, his voice laced with disbelief.
Tommy's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched in frustration. "My pop is a white dude, Jones - Barnaby Jones," he said, his voice firm.
Benjamin was shocked, scared, silent for a moment, but then regained himself.
"Oh... I'd heard that name mentioned a time or two before," he said, his voice measured.
"No joke? You know my old man?" Tommy asked, standing up as he took a step forward, his eyes blazing with intensity.
Benjamin's eyes widened, and he raised a hand, palm outwards. "Easy there, Tom, don't get any closer, dig?," he said, his voice laced with a hint of worry.
He didn't want to get physical with a black, gross! Not now, not in his life.