The man I now called my lover and I had been friendly for years. He was my family's neighbor, moved in a few doors down when I was eighteen years old. As soon as I met Roger Hill, I was attracted to him. At six feet five inches tall, he made me feel tiny at five seven. I was used to looking the boys at school in the eye, I loved being around tall men.
I tried to do the ‘right’ thing – fall for a guy my age. Fall for… well… a black man.
Roger was white, and I was black.
That never seemed to matter to him, though, so maybe it shouldn’t matter to me. That was one of the things I liked about him.
His muscular figure, and flirty smile only made the butterflies in my stomach dance harder whenever we spoke.
When he came to a cookout my family held, he gave me some good advice about my cheerleading tryouts, and when I aced them, I went to him to thank him. That struck up a friendship, and I walked down to chat with him a few times a week.
Before long, it was his shoulder that I cried on when my dog died, him that I showed off my Honor Roll report card to. He was always kind to me, always interested in what was going on in my life.
Frequently, though, he would disappear for a few days, or even two or three weeks. When that happened, I moped around my own house and sighed - because the only secret I kept in our conversations was my ever-growing crush on him!
One rainy Thursday afternoon when I was eighteen, six weeks or so before I was set to graduate from high school, I went to his house for a quick visit, to ask how his week had gone at work.
As I was getting ready to go, my phone fell out of my pocket onto a soft carpet in the entry hall, and he picked it up, glancing down at the screen. He started to look interested, and a slow smile spread across his face. Oh, no! The last thing I'd been looking at was a series of texts between me and my friend A’isha!
"What's this?" he asked. "You're about to go visit your totally sexy crush? I hope you tell him hello from me."
Not only could I feel my face turning hot, I could see the red flush spread across my cheeks in the mirror hanging across from me, so I knew he could see it too.
"Um, I sure will," I said. I held my hand out for my phone, hoping to make a quick retreat.
"No, no, not so fast," he said, holding the phone out of my reach and twiddling it teasingly. "You've never mentioned a crush before, and I thought we were such good friends. I'm so disappointed in you."
He laughed as my cheeks turned from rose pink to cherry red.
"It's just a silly crush, okay? I've had it for a long time, but A’isha is the only one who knows," I said quickly. "I don't want to talk about it."
"It has to be a pretty serious crush, A’isha seems to think that you should 'jump his bones.' Come on, tell me who the lucky boy is," he coaxed, but he handed me back my phone.
I worked on stuffing my phone into my pocket, but I was wearing tight jeans and I was so embarrassed that I struggled to put my phone away.
"Um," I said. "That's just A’isha. She always says things like that."
"Sex is a very serious part of adulthood. You're an adult now. I should know, I sent you a very nice necklace. Do you really think it's appropriate to be joking about it like that?" he said. He looked mostly solemn, but his mouth twitched and his eyes danced behind his frown.
"Don't worry," I said, "I can promise you he won't, er, sleep with me. He's not interested. Way out of my league."
"Oh, don't say that. You're an cheerleader, no one is out of your league."
I hated being teased, and I hated being embarrassed, and my temper flared up at once.
"Look, my crush is on you, okay?! I've had a crush on you for years, and I know you're not interested and I am way too young," I said.
He raised his eyebrows and his mouth fell open, the picture of a startled man. It only lasted for a moment, though, and the
I tried to do the ‘right’ thing – fall for a guy my age. Fall for… well… a black man.
Roger was white, and I was black.
That never seemed to matter to him, though, so maybe it shouldn’t matter to me. That was one of the things I liked about him.
His muscular figure, and flirty smile only made the butterflies in my stomach dance harder whenever we spoke.
When he came to a cookout my family held, he gave me some good advice about my cheerleading tryouts, and when I aced them, I went to him to thank him. That struck up a friendship, and I walked down to chat with him a few times a week.
Before long, it was his shoulder that I cried on when my dog died, him that I showed off my Honor Roll report card to. He was always kind to me, always interested in what was going on in my life.
Frequently, though, he would disappear for a few days, or even two or three weeks. When that happened, I moped around my own house and sighed - because the only secret I kept in our conversations was my ever-growing crush on him!
One rainy Thursday afternoon when I was eighteen, six weeks or so before I was set to graduate from high school, I went to his house for a quick visit, to ask how his week had gone at work.
As I was getting ready to go, my phone fell out of my pocket onto a soft carpet in the entry hall, and he picked it up, glancing down at the screen. He started to look interested, and a slow smile spread across his face. Oh, no! The last thing I'd been looking at was a series of texts between me and my friend A’isha!
"What's this?" he asked. "You're about to go visit your totally sexy crush? I hope you tell him hello from me."
Not only could I feel my face turning hot, I could see the red flush spread across my cheeks in the mirror hanging across from me, so I knew he could see it too.
"Um, I sure will," I said. I held my hand out for my phone, hoping to make a quick retreat.
"No, no, not so fast," he said, holding the phone out of my reach and twiddling it teasingly. "You've never mentioned a crush before, and I thought we were such good friends. I'm so disappointed in you."
He laughed as my cheeks turned from rose pink to cherry red.
"It's just a silly crush, okay? I've had it for a long time, but A’isha is the only one who knows," I said quickly. "I don't want to talk about it."
"It has to be a pretty serious crush, A’isha seems to think that you should 'jump his bones.' Come on, tell me who the lucky boy is," he coaxed, but he handed me back my phone.
I worked on stuffing my phone into my pocket, but I was wearing tight jeans and I was so embarrassed that I struggled to put my phone away.
"Um," I said. "That's just A’isha. She always says things like that."
"Sex is a very serious part of adulthood. You're an adult now. I should know, I sent you a very nice necklace. Do you really think it's appropriate to be joking about it like that?" he said. He looked mostly solemn, but his mouth twitched and his eyes danced behind his frown.
"Don't worry," I said, "I can promise you he won't, er, sleep with me. He's not interested. Way out of my league."
"Oh, don't say that. You're an cheerleader, no one is out of your league."
I hated being teased, and I hated being embarrassed, and my temper flared up at once.
"Look, my crush is on you, okay?! I've had a crush on you for years, and I know you're not interested and I am way too young," I said.
He raised his eyebrows and his mouth fell open, the picture of a startled man. It only lasted for a moment, though, and the
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