James didn't like white people and the privileges they enjoyed. He had lived all his life trying to discover why these humans thoughtless of others around them. The slave trade era had lasted a couple of years ago, but that shouldn't be the reason they would still continue to trample down on others around them. He didn't understand their trouble with those around them, especially blacks.
"We shouldn't be treated like trash in a place where we should have all the liberties we deserve," he complained to his coworker, who nodded her head as she listened. "We deserve better."
The woman scoffed and continued her work. If only he knew how much one of those he complained about was really in love with him. She decided to let him have it.
"Have you seen Claire today?" she asked in a teasing way. "She's been looking for you all morning."
"Why's she always coming after me?" James asked with a loud sigh. "She's probably looking for who to trample on and thinks I'm easy prey. If only she knew better."
"Dude, the babe likes you a lot," his coworker said when she couldn't take it anymore. "If you weren't too busy looking for an excuse to vent your frustration, you would have seen that."
James wanted to laugh, but something stopped him from doing so. He didn't want to feel it, but he realized he felt a want sensation when he heard Claire liked him. This had to be the most unusual feeling ever. He didn't understand why the mention of s name would make him feel this way.
"James!" he heard someone call from the other side.
The voice was unmistakably Claire's. She liked to call him in a way that used to irritate him but now felt good. What was wrong with him?
After three weeks of going back and forth with it, James finally realized he couldn't keep it to himself any longer. He needed to find out if the white woman really liked him or she just wanted something to toy with.
"Right from the first day I set my eyes on you," Claire replied as they sat opposite each other at a diner. "But you don't like white folks, do you? You still blame us for what happened back then."
She had said the other part softly, and James didn't know how to react. He knew he liked her too. He loved her, even. There was no denying that fact now.
"I like you too," he found himself saying. "I like you a lot."
"I'm a white woman," Claire reminded him.
James took a while to answer that. He knew there was no turning back from what he was about to do. It meant he was going to have to let go of all his dislike for whites and live above whatever he thought of them if he was going to date one. The risk was huge, but it was definitely worth it.
"Love doesn't think about the color of our skin," he finally told her before kissing her deeply over the table, letting his anger go.
THE END
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