Schooled Read Free

“dedication to forever.” I went first. I got a little strand of flowers around my ring finger to signify my new last name, Flowers. I would forever be Flowers. I loved how into our marriage and each other we were. When it was time for Marcus to get his ink, he realized that he didn’t have enough cash with us and could only afford my tattoo. At the time, I believed it was an honest mistake. Hell, we were in Cabo on the most romantic honeymoon getaway that money could buy, or at least my brother, Jasper, could buy.
    Looking at my finger now, I wanted to chop it off, to “de-Flower” myself. How could I be so stupid, so full of trust in a man, who deserved none? I downed my drink in two large gulps and said, “Yeah, that’s how in love I was. I mean, am.”
    Briggs looked at me thoughtfully, started to say something, but stopped. Suddenly, he grabbed my hand, slipped the ring off my finger, and kissed the flowers on my ring finger. My mouth went dry, opening slightly. My breath caught. He was staring straight at me with the most crystal blue eyes I’ve ever seen on a black man. I pulled my hand away, shuddering quickly. “So Briggs, what’s with the blue eyes anyway? That’s not typical with African-American men.” I asked.
    He laughed, really laughed, as he was spinning my wedding set on the table. The diamond was still the shiniest rock I’d ever seen. “Miss G, don’t YOU do your homework? I’m mixed; my dad’s a pretty good-looking, blonde-haired, blue-eyed white man. He’s a stud.” That can’t be true. I met his parents a few times throughout his senior year. They were a powerful African-American couple.
    “I met your parents. Remember, we had to find a way to get you to read a damn book?” He never read a book in my class, as far as I knew.
    He laughed; it was contagious. I loved hearing him laugh, being able to laugh with him while my marriage and world was crumbling around me was welcome. I really shouldn’t be sitting at a bar, yukking it up with old students, while my world fell apart. But I had to ignore it. At least for now. I loved having a distraction.
    “Nah, you didn’t meet my old man. My dad was some country club prick who knocked up my mom when she was 18. As soon as he found out she was pregnant, he bailed.” Briggs spun my ring again. “My dad’s parents would’ve freaked their shit if they knew he’d gone black. The man you met, my dad, the one who counts, adopted me when I was nine. He made me who I am today.” He seemed so proud of his adoptive father. Had always seemed so.
    “I never heard this story. When I had you write your personal narrative in class, you wrote about starting Varsity as a freshman. Why wouldn’t you write about your adoptive father or the flaws in your biological father ?” I was shocked. I couldn’t believe that I didn’t know something so personal about one of my students. I was the teacher who knew her students, who personalized their educations, who they could talk to, come to, confide in. This was important information; I didn’t know it. That was unlike me.
    “Shit. Right. I’m not even that deep now; you think I could think past Friday night then?” As I looked at Briggs, I began to realize that I didn’t know him as well as I thought I had. He was always a dumb-jock, with a beautiful body, and great athletic talent. I hadn’t given him the benefit of the doubt.
    Continuing, he said, “Actually, I think it’s some shit that black dudes always get the rap of knocking up our women and leaving our kids high and dry.” He took a long pull from his beer. He was such a man. A sexy man. “That’s bullshit. My white dad bailed. The black one stayed. My white dickless father can rot in Hell. He’s a son of a bitch.” I could see the anger in his gorgeous blue eyes; they flared with anger and became a darker more prominent blue. “But he did give me these eyes and they have certainly paid off.” He sat back, smugly, and put his hands