A/N: Hey guys! Thank you so much for reviewing! It means so much! Not gonna make this authors note long... So I leave you with Chapter 2 of 'We Teach Life, Sir'

Jazmine

If I was to say that walking out on a deluge without an umbrella was terrible, then I'd be a hypocrite.

I admired the rain, quite deviant to many of you out there, but I find it peaceful; a time where it washes away all the bad things and then finishes off with the sun shining. Regardless of what it does to my hair, it brought peace and sanity to the world. People were more quiet, and compos mentis.

My footsteps landed me in front of a beige colored door. I rang the doorbell and waited as a tall figure opened the door. No one other than the infamous Huey Freeman, his wine eyes had a glint in them; which was bizarre.

"Hey Huey" I said as he stepped aside, letting me in.

"Jazmine, it's pouring outside and look at yourself, you're soaked." He stated in his monotone voice.

I realized that I was shivering, it was cold, and I was soaked.

"I thought If I ran q- quick enough…"

He sighed and motioned for me to go upstairs, and I obeyed.

We went into his room, which he now had all to himself thanks to Granddad finally realizing it was about time his boys were turning into young adults. Well, let's just say Granddad walked in on an incident involving Riley and some girl that went to our school. Robert Freeman broke his belt that day, and to Huey's dismay and complaining, Riley moved into the guest room. It was a fair deal if you ask me.

I sat on Huey's bed, taking in my surroundings as I always do. It looked the same way it did when we were ten; except he added more posters and now a display showing off his sword collection. It was pretty cool if you ask me.

"Here."

I looked up to see him handing me one of his shirts, it was black and it had "Fight the Power" imprinted on it in white.

I stood up and was about to exit his room to go change in the bathroom, when he stopped me.

"I'll go out." He assured as he left

I felt my cheeks turning red for some reason, did I feel embarrassed? I've known Huey for almost eight years now; we've been really close since then. Sure, he made me cry a couple—or many times. But I guess it was all for a reason. My naivety has slowly faded away over the years, mostly from hanging around him. Huey taught me how to fight; I am not as professional as he is; however, I could manage to protect myself against a grown man if I needed to.

My optimistic attitude remains the same. I still bring up the positives whenever Huey is sulked into his own negativity. I'm aware of the injustice this world is filled with, but I always like to look on the bright side… I mean someone has to.

I changed into Huey's shirt, which fit largely on my small frame. It would make sense because he's not the same ten year old anymore. He's about 6'3'' making him two inches taller than his brother, Riley. He had a broad, muscular frame; I've noticed from various workouts we've done together.

Me on the other hand, I've grown to an average 5'4''. Puberty has treated me well also, no more awkward pre-teen body shape. I've matured into an average young adult. With a C cup bra size and a firm behind from daily exercise, it's a much better improvement than what little, naïve Jazmine looked like before! My frizzy hair was naturally tamed into looser curls, and I usually wear it in a ponytail. Or let it flow down to my mid-back.

I left Huey's room and made my way downstairs, only to see him sitting quietly on the couch in his living room with a laptop on his lap.

"Hey" I greeted with a smile

He glimpsed up at me for a second. "You should wear black more often."

"I'll consider it." I smirked back.

I sat next to him on the couch and looked to his side.

"Whatcha up to?"

"Finding more about the truth behind Boko Haram and what's going on in Nigeria."

"Oh I heard about that, he's the one that kidnapped all those school girls right?"

"Yep. I mean, that is what they're telling us."

"What do you mean?" I asked

"You can't trust everything the American media tells you. This man seems like a lunatic, but we don't know the full story. Remember Kony 2012?"

"Yes."

"Exactly. No one truly knows the full story; you cannot solve a crisis by simply putting hashtags via social media. Or letting famous people talk about it as if they know where Nigeria is even located on the map. These people are ridiculous."

"At least we know they care though." I stated

"Do they really? These people just follow what everyone else is doing. I could put my effort into creating a fake story and brainwash people into buying another Kony 2012 kit. Now will that do any good? We'll simply find out if people are dumb enough to fall for such a thing."

I sighed.

"I certainly hope where ever these girls are they are safe." I said

"I do too. Whoever this man is, he's definitely insane. I just disagree with how America choses to deal with certain issues, that's all."

"You think too much, Huey. Relax." I smiled

"That takes effort." He replied. His permanent scowl fixed on the laptop screen.

"Something's ought to make you smile. You'll see someday." I said

"Maybe…"

Suddenly, the sound of glass breaking was heard from outside. We both turned around and looked outside the window.

The deluge had ended, and a moving truck had stopped in the midst of the street. A woman in her mid-thirties stepped out of the vehicle and shouted in a slight Jamaican accent: "Did you just drop my vase Michael!"

"Nah ma, its fine! Honest!" The son shouted back

I looked to Huey with excitement.

"New neighbors!"

"Yeah, finally, more people of color."

The car drove two houses down from the Freemans.

"Let's go say hi!" I pleaded

"Jazmine I don't think—"

Before he could continue his sentence, I ran out the door and headed towards the house. I could hear Huey behind me, trying to catch up to me.

"Jazmine wait." He said as he grabbed my arm causing me to stop running

"Hm? What's wrong?"

"You can't just go like that! You don't know these people…"

"That's why we're gonna go meet them Huey! Pleasseee?" I pleaded

He raised his eyebrow and sighed in defeat. I knew he couldn't resist my pleas.

"Fine, but I'm coming with."

We walked a couple of blocks down only to see the woman and her son at an extravagant looking mansion. It was almost as big as Thugnificent's. Well, that was before his career ended.

Beautiful was definitely not the right word to describe the view. Palm trees were planted all around; there was a huge fountain in the center, illuminating a beautiful tangerine color that reflected onto the house. The patio was huge; it was circular and seemed to cover most of the area. Flowers of all types were planted everywhere. Overall it looked quite luxurious. I was lost for words. It was just, breathtaking.

"Holy S—"Huey started but I interrupted him with a gasp followed by an awe of a simple "Wow…"

Unfortunately for us we could only stand and admire from the enormous black gates that almost reached the sky, securing the outside of the mansion.

"Well, guess that is as far as we're gonna get, let's go."

"But wait-! We still need to mee—"

"Well. Well. Well. If it ain't that little communist niglet and his goi'lfriend, lil' miss half and half." I was interrupted by someone that Huey, Granddad, Riley, me, and possibly the entire black community despised quite so much.

My cheeks reddened in realization at what he said.

"What do you want Ruckus?" Huey turned around and stood tall in front of me, giving him his famous scowl—oh wait, he always wore that.

"Y'all need to get the hell up outta 'ere! Lurkin' up in the White Man's property ain't somethin' a coon and a half should be doin'! Breathin' his fine air, and admirin' the great oh so luxurious mansion that belongs to him!"

"Ruckus, hate to break this to ya but this mansion isn't owned by a white guy." I said

Ruckus snickered and eventually broke into a fit of laughter. "What?! Y'all think a darkie or Mexican owns this beautiful mansion!? Y'all musta lost your goddamn min—What in the name of Ronald Wilson Reagan!?"

Ruckus gasped and looked ahead of us, only to see a mid-aged man dressed in cultural Jamaican attire emerging from the mansion with the same lady and her son that Huey and I saw earlier.

"Told you so," I remarked

"Blasphemy! This is simply outrageous! Why lord? Why?! We don't need no more coons in this beautiful, once-white neighborhood. They Jamaican too! Oh I bet they brought in the Marijuana with them too. I think it's about time I start packin' my bags before this turns into that stupid movie with that crazy police hatin' rapper Ice Box"

"Ice Cube." Huey stated

"Don't matta'! I'm long gone! Your Uncle Ruckus is gone!" He left as he uttered more hateful racist remarks underneath his breath.

"Thank god." I mumbled

"Okay, we've seen the house, now let's go." Huey said

I stomped my foot in disagreement. "No!"

"But how are we gonna get in Jazmine? The gates are obviously clos—"

As if it were on cue, the black gates opened and a boy, presumably in his teens, walked towards us. He had brown hair that was locked into medium length dreads and wore a crocheted rastacap.

"Wassup?!" He greeted us with a smile

He was tall, almost as tall as Huey, and he had a slim figure with a slight build in his arms and chest. He wore an Immortal Technique shirt and khakis, alongside black and red Jordans.

"Hi! I'm Jazmine and this is my friend Huey. We live just a couple of blocks up from here…"

He gently took my palm and landed a kiss on it. I giggled, such a gentleman!

"Hello Jazmine, my name's Michael Caesar. But just call me Caesar." He said as he winked at me.

Huey stiffened and rolled his eyes at the sight. He then, cleared his throat as if about to say something when I interrupted him.

"You have such a beautiful house Caesar!"

"Thank you, well. It belongs to my cousin Kaleem. Me and my ma are just crashin' here for now."

I noticed he had a slight accent.
"Where did ya'll move from?" as if Huey read my mind.

Caesar fake gasped "Ah he speaks! I hail from Broooooklyn!" He said with a hint of pride in his voice.

"Brooklynites are quite the prideful people." Remarked Huey

"Very true, where do ya'll hail from? Been here all your life?"

"No. I'm originally from Chicago, but I moved here when I was ten."

"I'm from Detroit, but I also came here when I was ten."

Our conversation went quite well. Turns out Huey and Caesar had a lot in common, despite their slight tension whenever my name was brought up in their conversation. Whenever Caesar wanted to ask me anything, Huey would try to change the subject. I was slightly taken aback, but maybe I'm overthinking things and that's just the way Huey is.

Caesar was seventeen, like Huey and I. He was a month older than Huey. Making him turn eighteen in January, whilst Huey in February and me, in August.

The days passed and before you know it, the three of became closer. Personally, I think Caesar is a very sweet, outgoing, and down-to-earth person. He's quite the charmer too, yesterday we went to the Woodcrest Plaza to get some pizza and he managed to grab four girls' numbers in just an hour. He admitted he wasn't the 'player' type, but he didn't mind the attention.

Huey and Caesar also went into deep conversation about politics; this time they primitively focused on the Bush Administration. With Huey criticizing every flaw in his presidency, and Caesar making political jokes about Condoleezza. Even though I didn't really catch onto most of their conversations, it was hilarious to see Caesar crack jokes every now and then. He even made Huey smirk once! Too bad for him though, he's never seen Huey smile before, I'm glad I got that chance.

Uh… That wasn't supposed to come out like that…

Anyways.

I was currently lying down on my bed. It was 11:03 PM; Huey, Caesar and I had just spent the day in downtown Woodcrest at The Nubian Queen, a well-known small Jazz club that Huey worked at. The age to enter the bar was 18, and it was 21 to drink. However, the owner, Mr. Farrakhan was quite fond with Huey. They discuss important societal matters and other politics, I often hear them talking about a 'resistance' or something but I'm not quite sure. Apparently he has some relation to Louis Farrakhan, but it's a touchy subject that he doesn't like to speak of, so he always tries to change the subject. At least that's what Huey tells me.

The Nubian Queen was the perfect place to hang out on evenings and nights. Huey and I often came here whenever we had the chance to. They played the best music the Jazz genre could offer. It was mellow, smooth and relaxing… It just made you want to follow the beat or sit down in a chair and fall asleep.

Huey liked the place as well and became a frequent visitor. Eventually, Mr. Farrakhan offered him a job as supervisor. Quite a strange position for a seventeen year-old, but it was just fancy talk for someone that organized and set dates for musicians from all over to come and preform here, he was also in charge of making sure everyone was doing their job at the club. Mr. Farrakhan thought it would be suitable because of his 'intense attitude and stern demeanor'. I just think its cause he has a scowl that has the ability to overpower and scare anyone that wouldn't obey his commands. It kinda reminded me of that Christmas play he once directed in 5th grade, he was all controlling and demanding, I remember he even fired the whole cast! I smiled at the memory.

They often had Spoken word nights at The Nubian Queen. I liked those the most; I loved the poetry that many people recited. Sometimes I came here by myself to see Huey, and ended up spending my time listening to what the poets had to say. It makes you think about society and the world in general. They often bring MC's on the stage; Mr. Farrakhan said that Talib Kweli actually came and performed here in the year 2000. Huey talks about it all the time, being a fan of Talib Kweli and all.

I began drifting in and out of my thoughts; I realized that I was getting tired.

My last thoughts focused on Huey, I wish I knew what my brain was trying to say. But my feelings were mixed. I wasn't sure how I was exactly feeling. Usually, I shut these feelings away and try to think of something else.

But this time I couldn't.

Sigh.

Droplets of rain began to fall and gently tap my window. Being shadowed by white noise that soothed my ears, I finally decided to call it a night and fell into a blissful slumber.

A/N: If I get enough reviews I'll try to update by tomorrow. Love y'all.

Peace
سلام