CHAPTER 8
Storming out of the club, Derek felt the eyes of curious strangers staring at him. It had just occurred to him what a scene he must have made.
"Derek, try to calm down. . ." Sara said, trying to relax him. She put her hand softly on his shoulder, but was swatted away by Derek
"No one's ever called you a nigger!" He exclaimed, lowering his head. "I'm sorry," he said, after a while of just standing there, staring at each other, "It's not just this time either. This isn't the first time I've heard someone talk about us like that," he added, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. Just then he spotted the old couple walking out of the club, and Sara had to hold him back.
"It's not worth it," she tried, and the two walked back to Sara's house. Once inside, Sara fixed them both a plate of left-over pizza from the night before. They sat down on the couch that had once been Sara's bed, since the kitchen table needed to be fixed and slanted to one side. Even though she didn't want to discuss it, Sara knew the situation they had just come from needed to be dealt with.
"I don't get it," she started, taking a bite out of her pizza, "Why does it bother people so much. . .it's none of their damn business,"
"I know," Derek replied, before taking a sip of his Coke, "But that's life. I don't even know why I got so upset there. . .it was just everything comin' out at once,"
"You know, fuck them and what they think," Sara replied. Derek laughed,
"If it were that easy everything would be alright. It's just. . .When people look at us I know they judge us. . .I can feel it,"
"So can I," Sara replied, "And I hate it! We don't judge them, why do they even give a rat's ass about us?"
"'Cause of me," Derek replied as he put the slice of pizza down and stared Sara in the eye, "It has nothing to do with you. When people see us, the first thing that comes to mind is 'Oh that poor white girl'. I just can't stand it. . .they think I'm a thief or something,"
"But you're not, so ignore them,"
"Sara it's not that easy. You don't even know what it's like. . .day by day having old couples talkin' about you when you walk in the door; callin' you a fuckin' nigger," He replied, as he watched Sara's expression change,
"No, I don't have those things said about me," She started, grabbing for his hand, "but what's even worse is watching them say it about you. That hurts just as much, Derek." Derek looked at his fiancée in awe. She had just taken away every ounce of pain in him and replaced it with love; for her. He smiled, and the two kissed once more. That was the end of that conversation.
Derek left Sara's house at around 9 o'clock that night, and when her dad came home, Sara found she was tired from her long day. That didn't, however, stop her from informing him about their good news. As she heard him walk up the stairs, Sara hopped up off of the couch; ready to tell.
"Hey Roy," She started, acting extra nice to him. He smiled and returned the greeting. "I have something to tell you," she started. Roy turned around and with a look of concern on his face asked "what?"
"Are you alright, Sara?" He asked, edging closer to his daughter
"No it's not like that," She reassured him, "It's. . .well. . ." she held out her ring finger, hoping he would understand so that no more words needed to be said. His eyes widened as he looked at the ring, then Sara. . .Sara, then the ring.
"Is this. . ."
"An engagement ring? Yes! Derek and I are engaged Roy," She finished his sentence for him. Although he didn't appear to be angry or sad, Sara hadn't yet seen a formal reaction. Finally he spoke,
"Sara, congratulations," he finished, although he didn't sound very enthusiastic, Sara believed him and the father and daughter shared a hug.
Storming out of the club, Derek felt the eyes of curious strangers staring at him. It had just occurred to him what a scene he must have made.
"Derek, try to calm down. . ." Sara said, trying to relax him. She put her hand softly on his shoulder, but was swatted away by Derek
"No one's ever called you a nigger!" He exclaimed, lowering his head. "I'm sorry," he said, after a while of just standing there, staring at each other, "It's not just this time either. This isn't the first time I've heard someone talk about us like that," he added, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. Just then he spotted the old couple walking out of the club, and Sara had to hold him back.
"It's not worth it," she tried, and the two walked back to Sara's house. Once inside, Sara fixed them both a plate of left-over pizza from the night before. They sat down on the couch that had once been Sara's bed, since the kitchen table needed to be fixed and slanted to one side. Even though she didn't want to discuss it, Sara knew the situation they had just come from needed to be dealt with.
"I don't get it," she started, taking a bite out of her pizza, "Why does it bother people so much. . .it's none of their damn business,"
"I know," Derek replied, before taking a sip of his Coke, "But that's life. I don't even know why I got so upset there. . .it was just everything comin' out at once,"
"You know, fuck them and what they think," Sara replied. Derek laughed,
"If it were that easy everything would be alright. It's just. . .When people look at us I know they judge us. . .I can feel it,"
"So can I," Sara replied, "And I hate it! We don't judge them, why do they even give a rat's ass about us?"
"'Cause of me," Derek replied as he put the slice of pizza down and stared Sara in the eye, "It has nothing to do with you. When people see us, the first thing that comes to mind is 'Oh that poor white girl'. I just can't stand it. . .they think I'm a thief or something,"
"But you're not, so ignore them,"
"Sara it's not that easy. You don't even know what it's like. . .day by day having old couples talkin' about you when you walk in the door; callin' you a fuckin' nigger," He replied, as he watched Sara's expression change,
"No, I don't have those things said about me," She started, grabbing for his hand, "but what's even worse is watching them say it about you. That hurts just as much, Derek." Derek looked at his fiancée in awe. She had just taken away every ounce of pain in him and replaced it with love; for her. He smiled, and the two kissed once more. That was the end of that conversation.
Derek left Sara's house at around 9 o'clock that night, and when her dad came home, Sara found she was tired from her long day. That didn't, however, stop her from informing him about their good news. As she heard him walk up the stairs, Sara hopped up off of the couch; ready to tell.
"Hey Roy," She started, acting extra nice to him. He smiled and returned the greeting. "I have something to tell you," she started. Roy turned around and with a look of concern on his face asked "what?"
"Are you alright, Sara?" He asked, edging closer to his daughter
"No it's not like that," She reassured him, "It's. . .well. . ." she held out her ring finger, hoping he would understand so that no more words needed to be said. His eyes widened as he looked at the ring, then Sara. . .Sara, then the ring.
"Is this. . ."
"An engagement ring? Yes! Derek and I are engaged Roy," She finished his sentence for him. Although he didn't appear to be angry or sad, Sara hadn't yet seen a formal reaction. Finally he spoke,
"Sara, congratulations," he finished, although he didn't sound very enthusiastic, Sara believed him and the father and daughter shared a hug.