Ugh! Why was she always late?! For someone that loved the idea of class more than the typical college student, there was never a day that Serita
didn't nearly get stuck in the door before the professor closed it to start her lecture! Today, she wasn't even sure if she'd even catch it
before it shut! Maybe if she hadn't decided to work the extra shift at the Caf' that morning. Sure, she knew that her shift would end only five
minutes before her 9:30 class began. And sure she knew that Professor Blakely was not amused with late comers. But damn, what could she say? Her momma
always said that "you don't look a gift horse in the mouth". Well, an extra shift was surely a gift horse and she wasn't turning her back on that.
Extra shift meant extra money and to be for real, Serita needed all the extra she could get. Even with the scholarship for books and tuition (out of
state fees killing most of her money), she still had her room and board to take care of. That meant the hustle wasn't anywhere near her letting up or
slacking. Only kids with trust funds didn't blink twice at the money they dished out for a good education. Everybody couldn't be a trust fund baby,
now could they?
Silently, she almost regretted wearing combat boots that day. One, it was fucking hot outside. Breeze or no breeze, Hawaii had a way of reminding her that she wasn't in Atlanta anymore.
And two, they were making it extremely hard to "quick walk" her way into the classroom, as she'd barely made it into the front doors of Sparks without
tripping over her own feet. Well, she guessed if she couldn't get past the locked door, she'd learn eventually learn her lesson. And that lesson was?
School was a freaking "catch 22". She worked her ass off to pay for the classes that she was consistently nearly late for. Killing herself for the
money to pay for the classes that she was killing herself for. With a deep breath as she rounded the corner, she remembered that it was all a means to
an end. All this strugglin' and fussin' and workin' would pay off for her.
So he was going to be a little late again. It always blew him how he managed to make it to this class before time when he was on line, but
now that he had crossed, he never seemed to make it. Honestly, the class didn't interest him all that much. Not that he didn't have a love of females,
Nubian ones especially, but he wasn't learning anything. Blakely wasn't one for an open discussion so she pretty much told you what she thought
regardless of what your feelings were on the subject. That was fine. They didn't pay him to teach and with this being a once a week class, it wasn't
really worth it. So he came...every other week, sat in the class and contradicted Professor Blakely in his mind for an hour and a half then left. He
never really took the time to speak to the people in the class so imagine his surprise when he spotted the Queen that he had so politely educated in
the Caf earlier that week pulling open the door to the room. She didn't look over her shoulder as she entered, but they'd obviously see one another
soon enough.
And as fate would have it, the only seat available was the one next to hers so now he would even have to speak to her. Although the look on her face
when she saw him wasn't exactly one of open friendliness. He chose to nod in her direction, a friendly half smile on his face as he took his seat. He
pulled his headphones out, stopping Lupe mid-sentence and deciding that his mother raised him to speak when he came in contact with an acquaintance.
And hell, for some reason, the thought of messing with her had more appeal than it did the first time. Ha.
"So did you find the books I told you about? I could loan them to you if you'd like-," The same smart ass smirk he'd had when he left her dumbfounded
at the register was the one he wore now. He couldn't help it.
And as it would seem, luck was on Serita's side as the classroom door was unlocked. Looked like Prof. Blakely was in a semi-good mood that day.
Wonderful. At least that was one thing that she could look forward to during that hour and a half class. Not that she didn't like hearing the
professor speak. Blakely was a very intelligent woman, quite versed on what she taught. But the class was all...her. Her voice, her ideas. Her
perspective. There was barely any discussion. Just note taking and listening and that wasn't really how Serita rolled. Especially on the subject of
African American perspectives on feminism! Come on! That was a subject that had Serita nearly bursting at the seams to talk about so it was obviously
torture that her mouth stayed closed, her opinions bubbling around without escape. Not a good look. But it was a class and that meant attendance and
note taking as Blakely tests were beast.
Without a single glance behind her, she walked into the classroom and made her way to the first empty desk she could find. Hilariously enough, it was
in the second to the front row. Avoiding Blakely's glare (that she casted at you whether you were on time or not), Serita pushed aside her work
clothes that were stuffed in her tote, removed her notebook and pulled the pen from her curly bun that she'd placed there earlier in the Caf. She was ready for note taking until out of her side view, she saw someone sit beside her. A
someone with short locks, smooth, brown skin and a fucking...purple line jacket.
Looking up before she could stop herself, she caught his smirk and nod. A greeting, huh? Yeah she wouldn't be returning that. Without even a blink,
she turned away and lowered her head back to her notebook like it was the most interesting thing in the damn world. What WAS HE DOING HERE!? The jerk
from the Caf! Was he even in her class?! Well apparently, yes. Serita was highly doubtful that anyone would sit in on Blakely's class for the hell of
it. But why was he here? Now? And sitting next to her?! Fuckin' awesome. And Serita knew as soon as his mouth opened that her luck had officially run
out.
"Nope." Her simple answer to his question about his literary recommendations. Who the hell was he anyway? Borders? And that response. Yeah, it was a
lie. Black Feminist Thought was sitting on her bed at that very moment, a little rabbit ear marking the page she'd last read as was the usual
with books that she couldn't stand to lose her place. But would HE know this? NO. Never.
She looked at him as he greeted her before turning away, not bothering to return the gesture. Well. Someone was still in a mood. Even as he spoke to
her, his voice just above a whisper so not to disrupt Professor Blakely's class, she did not look up from her notebook, her response short.
Nope. Liar. He could hear it in the way she responded that she'd picked up at least one of them. What was this girl's problem? She was
perpetually angry for what seemed like no reason at all. Of course, he didn't know the Queen's story. Maybe she had a run in with a disgruntled book
enthusiast before and now every one after that would feel her wrath. Who knew?
It didn't matter. Epic wasn't a very structured individual. He had his boundaries, but he was very much a "go with the flow" type dude. Respect
however wasn't something he played with. He gave the utmost to any person he came into contact with, whether they deserved it or not, but he had a
limit. He had tried twice to engage her in conversation. Not to get in her past, just simply to talk to someone to fill the time. But no. She was
anti-social and...hell she was rude. So why couldn't he be?
As she told him she wasn't interested in borrowing any book, and probably anything, of his, he kind of snapped. "Queen, I'm starting to get
the feeling you don't enjoy talking to me-," His smirk broadened a little bit. He was amused. He knew she hated him, she'd hated him from jump because
she though he just wanted to get in her pants and when she found out she was wrong, she couldn't take it.
If his mother taught him to speak when he entered the room, then her momma "sho'nuff" taught her to not go around speaking to strangers. And this dude
was a stranger. Did he know who she was? Did he even know her name? Um, no sir. Stranger danger. As far as Serita was concerned, ignoring his greeting
was being nice as she didn't add an eye roll to her blatant disregard of him. What the hell was he doing trying to have conversation
while the professor was speaking anyway? Could he say "rudeness"? Last time she checked, she wasn't in the classroom to have conversations with RANDOM
guys anyway. No matter how completely boring it was to sit and listen to Prof. Blakely drone on and on about what SHE thought, the fact didn't change
that she was the one in front of the classroom and they were the ones in desks. Either way, a change of scenery wouldn't have prompted her to talk to
this pompous jerk anyway. Yes, he was a pompous jerk as she had not forgotten about the first meeting and neither had he, it seemed. Yet, he couldn't
help but torture her more. Fantastic.
"Shhhhh. Rude?" Serita interrupted his question with a long, exaggerated shush, her finger in front of her full lips. The laugh barely stayed behind
her lips as she turned from him in just enough time to hide the smirk that lifted the corner of her mouth. Yep, just played his life in hopes that
maybe he would get the point that she in no way wanted to even start or finish a conversation with him. What did he think? Because he was some high
and mighty FRAT BOY with a brain, she was supposed to automatically fall into some deep colloquy with him? Er, no. Not so much. But did he get that?
Of course not.
"No, that's exactly right...since you asked." What? She didn't like talking to him! Especially since he'd chumped the hell out of her the first time
they'd spoken...which was kind of her fault. But that didn't matter! What mattered was that she didn't want to talk to him! With his stupid, deep
voice and his damn...UGH!
"So, why don't you..." But before she could whisper back a dismissive insult she heard a throat clear from the row in front of them. Snapping her head
around she looked into the very annoyed face of Professor Blakely. Shit.
"Is there something that you two would like to discuss with the class?" Blakely asked, her hands finding her hips as Serita sent a fiery side eye the
freaking, intrusive jerk's way.
So if she didn't talk to strangers, how did she make friends? Every person on the planet is a stranger until you step out on faith and give people a
chance. But this young lady was so guarded it wasn't even possible to strike up a conversation. Her words were an attempt to render his immobile. But
he was more curious than put off by her reactions. Epic wanted to know what had her building walls instead of bridges; so he pressed.
Lightly. There was nothing rude about his approach because frankly, had he been less of a man, he would have just asked why she was such a
bitch. But he was raised better and he didn't see the need to lower himself to that level. Not with her. Epic knew her type. Epic was related
to her type. Jendayi hated when he told her things she didn't know too. His response to her was the same response he would give to this girl: Read
more books.
Of course now was not the time for that, especially not as she cut him off, her cute attempt at humor only aggravating him further. Really? "Yeah,
you are a little, but I was just going to ignore it-," he responded quickly, a small shrug in his shoulders. What? She was rude. He was a good guy,
but he had no problem telling someone about themselves, and this girl was asking for an autobiography, so fuck it. He'd give it to her...Or at least
that was the plan before the clearing of Professor Blakely's throat gave him pause. Oops. He was getting the side eye from the girl he'd been speaking
to and the stare down from the Queen teaching this class; obviously it was a tight spot.
"I apologize, Professor Blakely, we were actually continuing a conversation we had had earlier in regards to this class-," he spoke confidently, the
lie rolling off the tongue as if he were telling her the sky was blue. Blakely continued to look at him, her gaze disapproving and just a little
disbelieving.
"Is that right? Why don't you enlighten your fellow classmates then, Mr...-,"
"St. Thomas, Epicurus St. Thomas. I, uh, was just explaining to this Queen that I don't think Black feminism is a good enough label to place
on what early Queens were trying to do in the struggle. I feel like Womanism is a better term to encompass the struggle as a whole." The professor
nodded, her brow furrowing as she considered his words before turning to his newfound debate partner.
Making friends, when she had the time to make them, wasn't hard at all because not everyone was a stranger. Men were the only people that she
very quickly entered into that category without a moment's hesitation. She didn't trust men. The only man that she'd ever trusted had been her daddy
and for good reason. Her daddy worked hard and did everything in his power that he could for Serita...until he couldn't anymore. And when he...left,
so did all of the trust she would ever have for any male besides him. This guy was no different and even if he believed he was, Serita didn't. Sure,
he was intelligent and had read a book or two, but when it came to knowing him enough to even let him inside of her personal bubble? Not a chance. He
was good on the outside of it, as where the rest of the male population at KRU. Her roomate, who had less of a problem with keeping men away than she
did with keeping them out of the room overnight, thought Serita was insane for the way she treated men. In her entire time at KRU, she'd only had one
in the room and that was because they were working on an project that had taken the entire night to finish and the library closed at 11:00. Men just
weren't something Serita needed...or wanted that close and there wasn't a single one on campus that made her desire any different.
Especially not now as she stared in the face of the annoyed Professor Blakely, those flared nostrils telling her exactly how close she was to being
thrown out of class, along with Chatty McAsshat sitting in the desk next to her. And that side eye that was aimed at him, the one she wasn't even
trying to hide? Yeah, that should have been a clear indicator that he needed not talk to her again. Never in her entire college career had she ever
been called out like this by the professor, searching her brain for some excuse as to why she was so rudely running her mouth in the middle of a
lecture. But before she could open her mouth to answer Prof. Blakely, she heard the same tenor voice that had gotten her in trouble in the
first place speak, apologizing quickly...and lying his ass off!
Before Serita could even catch herself, her eyes rounded and closed, hearing Blakely challenging his lie. What the hell! If this dude was going to
lie, why in the world couldn't he just lie on his own accord and let her defend herself? Now they were both up shit's creek without a paddle because
they had to create oxygen from a damn fart!
But lying just seemed so...easy for this...Epicurus. Epicurus. Who named their child "Epicurus"? Not like it wasn't a dope name, it wast
just...different. You didn't catch many black parents giving their children the name of Greek philosophers. Probably parents that knew their child
would be just intelligent enough to lie themselves out of a tight spot, which Serita couldn't even lie, he was doing a hell of a job with. Black
Feminism vs. Womanism, huh? Well, they'd almost had a similar discussion, hadn't they. Although THAT discussion had involved him making her look
like an idiot. Although, like her momma would say, she'd already done a good job painting herself the fool.
And now it was her turn, the professor's eye falling on her as Epicurus's eye also turned to her, putting her on the spot. A place that she hated to
be. "Um. Banks. Serita. And well...I understand what Alice Walker was attempting to achieve by casting off the title of 'Feminism' as the white
feminist movement did little for the woman of color. But...I disagree with Walker and her womanist beliefs." With a side glance to let Mr. St Thomas
know that she was speaking directly to him, although her eyes were straight foward.
"Womanism is, at its very depths, androcentric as it is more about that black man AND woman, community focused, than just the black woman, which, in
itself, is anti-feminism. Black feminism, on the other hand, is solely about our struggle, which I have high doubts that any man could truly
understand..." With a smirk, she looked Epicurus fully in the face, waiting for his response.
Pfft. He could not POSSIBLY care less about this little side eye she was giving him. As if her attitude was anything new. The only thing he was
worried about was talking his way out of...or rather talking his way into staying in this class. Not that it did anything for him, but he
skipped classes by choice, not because he was thrown out. Never that. He wasn't a delinquent student, he did his work, he paid attention, and for the
most part, he came to class. Getting kicked out would scuff his record...Not to mention cause high school flashbacks. He hadn't been put on the spot
like this since the 9th grade. Nostalgia was a bitch.
But there was no time to dwell on the past. He had to think fast and what better lie to tell than that they were talking about the class? If he was
right, and he usually was, and this girl was anything like his sister, she looked up the stuff he had told her about first chance she got; maybe this
time he would give her the chance to respond. So he fed her the same information he had in the caf line and looked to her for a response. The class of
about eight including himself and the professor waited as she got her thoughts together and began to speak.
She disagreed. Okay, but her resaons as to why was...well, hell, it was wrong. Androcentric? Who was she kidding? He was beginning to think he started
this conversation with the wrong person. "No disrespect, but, how is her view androcentric? The origin of that word comes from the Black expression of
mothers to female children, 'You acting womanish' i.e. like a woman. There's no man involved in the etymology so you're going to have to explain to me
where the black man comes into this theory."
He was going to keep it simple for now. Say what he knew about the subject, not what his opinion was. He'd save that for when he heard hers.
How the hell did he NOT get it? Sure Serita hadn't laid it out in a complete dissertation, but she didn't stutter, that was for sure. With her head
cocked, exhaling as she cut her eyes at Epicurus's rebuttal. So, she was wrong, was she? Obviously he thought so as his whole face screwed up at her
comment. Just because he didn't know where she was coming from, that didn't make her wrong, did it? Epicurus thought so. And as far as he was probably
concerned, what he thought just had to be right, huh? Yeah, she saw that personality trait a mile away. It came with that smug smirk that he
was always giving her when he thought he had proven a point and that smart mouth. He probably thought it was confidence, too. Ha. Men like that
tripped her out. So up their own asses that they had the nerve to actually think that they weren't conceited. Was this guy one? Or maybe he was just
a jerk. Hm, one couldn't tell. But she was sure she'd find out sooner or later.
Or sooner. Like the "no disrespect" took the sting off of his reply, asking her to thoroughly explain her theory on finding black men inside of
Womanism.
"Gladly." She said quickly, turning her body towards him, pulling herself to full height. "The full meaning of the word isn't always in the breakdown
of the word. Perhaps you should look to the foundation of Womanism, where Alice Walker derived her theory? As Delores Williams, who was one of the
contributors to the theology of Womanism, stated, 'Womanism is the prophetic voice concerned about the well-being of the entire African American
community, male and female...'. And I for one, believe that any focus on the woman should be solely that. The oppression of the black woman is a
battle of our own, unshared by any other culture, race, or gender and -..."
Clearing her throat, she looked away from the face of her listening, fellow debater. That's where things got personal. The struggle of the black
woman. A subject that filled Serita with so much passion that it was hard for her to contain all of it. It was personal, it was her life, it was her
mother's life...was. She had to stop it. There was no way she was going there in the middle of a debate.
" -and black feminism just seems to be the stronger argument to the cause of the equality of black women." Again she looked to Epicurus, hoping that
her eyes didn't show the emotion that nearly broke through.
Oh no. He got what she was saying. He understood. She was just wrong. And all of the attitude she was serving him for asking her to clarify was only
going to this a more awkward situation for her. He hated to put her in that predicament, but technically, she was doing it herself. He had been
nothing but nice since he engaged her in this conversation. If she turned out looking the fool after this was done, then that would be by no fault of
his. It'd be different if she had a point; if he wasn't about to crush her with this whole topic. But cockiness when you were incorrect...not a good
look.
And despite his disclaimer of 'no disrespect', that was all he got back. She turned to face him fully, her back straight as she gave him an answer
that changed his mind about whether he was debating this with the right person. She obviously did surface research and he could respect that...but
Queen was still wrong. And sadly, he would have to tell her that she was mis-educated and a little bit shallow.
Epic nodded as she spoke mentioning that Alice Walker's theory was derived from that of Delores Williams. Okay. They could talk Williams, "You know
what...You're right-," Ha. Epic paused to let her bask in the glory of hearing him concede to defeat, if only in the smallest form. "Womanism does
encompass men and women but I think you're ignoring the reason why. How can you be a woman and have no compassion for your people, man or woman? I get
what you're trying to say with feminism focusing on the problems of women and solely women and I don't depute that, but Black feminism doesn't take
into account the very things that make you a woman." He paused, attempting to put his thoughts in order to show her what he was talking about.
"It's scientifically proven that women have more...compassion and empathy than their male counterparts.Alice Walker understood that and put in the one
thing Black Feminism was missing: Love-," that sounded corny as hell, but it was the truth and he could quote it. "In Walker's introduction of the
theory she actually states that A womanist is a woman who loves other women, appreciates and prefers women's culture, but is committed to survival and
wholeness of entire people, male and female. A womanist isn't supposed to be a separatist. Y'know what I mean? My favorite line out the whole book was
'Womanist is to feminist as purple is to lavender'. I mean...lavender is alright, but purple is just...deeper."
Attitude? She had attitude, did she? Well perhaps Mr. St.Thomas wouldn't have had that much attitude to deal with had he stopped coming at Serita like
an ignorant child, trying to school her on a subject that she already was versed in! Did he think he was the all knowing Wiz of Feminism? Oh, excuse
her...the Wiz of Womanism, granting Serita's plea for a clue. Or perhaps it was his sheer stubbornness in accepting that maybe, just maybe,
he wasn't the only person on KRU's campus, much more, the face of the earth who could possibly be-
You know what...You're right. What did he just say? Serita couldn't help stop herself, mid smirk, her dark eyes looking at him, narrowing
skeptically, waiting for him to laugh or show some sign that he was obviously kidding. She was actually correct? And he'd admitted it? Yeah,
she was pretty sure that she had just hallucinated. There had to be a catch, a condition to her correctness. Something that made her only half right
or one third accurate. Because the way that this guy had been trying to prove his point, there was no way he was any where near close to finally
seeing the light in Serita's argument, recognizing his lack of knowledge and dropping to her feet in a plea of forgiveness. The last part was
optional, but completely welcomed! But there was this...feeling...that it wasn't over, that this "Epicurus" had just gotten started. And big surprise!
He had, another admittance to her theory of Delores Williams on his lips, but also explaining his point.
Empathy? Compassion? Ha. Serita had to try extra hard not to scoff at his words as those two things were what she felt wounded the black woman into
submission and displacement. Their ability to love "in spite of" and love when love wasn't deserved. Only a weakness in Serita's eyes. And especially
when it came to men. What the hell had love gotten any black woman besides pregnant, barefoot, and abandoned for lighter skin, bluer eyes and
straighter hair? Sure, she could see what he was trying to say, but she wasn't trying to hear it. Love. That was the solution? Right. When
was the last time she'd heard any dude tell her that he needed her to "love" him? But women always needed someone to fight, someone to speak for them
when they still, even in the 21st century, couldn't be heard. No, she'd stick to Black Feminism and leave that Womanism bit to the birds.
Even if she wasn't feeling this guy's argument, one thing she could do was respect his fervor. He was passionate, that was for sure. And there was a
desire to educate, not to show her up. She could see that in the softness of his voice as he spoke to her, to the class. And the cockiness? Yeah, it
was still there, but she understood it. Because she saw the same thing in herself sometimes. Especially when she believed wholly in what she spoke
about. As he finished speaking, her mouth opened to rebut again, but Dr. Blakely's voice sliced in between the discussion that had almost erased every
other student in that room from existence.
"Well that was certainly intense!" She said, laughing through the tension that the debate had spread throughout the room. "Good discussion points, but
next time, save them for after class?" With a quiet "yes ma'am", Serita turned her body from her debate partner and back to her desk.
Hesitating for a moment, she opened her notebook and tore a piece of paper out, scribbling on it quickly. Waiting for Blakely's turned back, she
slipped the paper to Epicurus's desk.
"It's about time we had some open discussion that didn't revolve around "what Blakely thinks". And I still think you're wrong..."
How was he to know she felt some kind of way about empathy and compassion? Most people possessed those qualities...Obviously she wasn't most people.
Epic had to hand it to her, Serita could hold her own in an argument. She was making good points and he had to respect that; it just so happened that
his view was different from hers. No right or wrong just, different, he guessed.
Serita opened her mouth to give her rebuttal to his statements and he smiled a little. She was still trying to go; it was cute. Just as he shifted to
face her a bit more, Professor Blakely's voice cut through their discussion. Right...they were in class. Epicurus sighed as Blakely finally bought his
lie and returned to whatever she had been lecturing about before he and Serita had been caught talking. Well. Guess today's entertainment was done. It
was back to business as usual, trying to stay awake, as usual.
Epic turned to face the front of the classroom, slumping down in his seat in an effort to get comfortable. He low key hated this class...but now he
seemed to have a reason to come. Just as he thought this he caught movement in his peripheral, Serita's delicate hand sliding across his desk,
leaving a small piece of paper for him to read. Ha. Note passing. This hadn't happened since the 7th grade. Nostalgia was a bitch.
He picked it up, a small chuckle on his lips as he opened it to read. It took everything he had not to laugh out loud. He couldn't help but be amused.
Queen was bold. Epic pulled out the pen that had been tucked behind his ear and wrote down a reply.
"Well, maybe if you'd stop thinking of me as the bad guy I could convince you otherwise."
Oh. He thought that she believed him to be that bad guy. He was trippin' with that scribbled confession on that scrap of paper underneath Serita's
handwriting. That wasn't it at all. She didn't think he was the bad guy. She thought ALL MEN were the bad guys. Every single one of them! And Epicurus
wasn't free from that assumption. Not just yet. Even with all that pro-fem he was spitting. But she had to admit, he could spit it with the best of
them and he really knew his stuff. Not like some of the people in her other classes that talked a big game, but as soon as Serita ripped into them,
they shut their mouths. No, he held his ground and it was kind of...admirable. Even for a purple line jacket wearing, pompous douche.
With a glance in his direction, she started to write again, silently praying to the she gods that Blakely wasn't watching their exchange. But why
would she be? The woman was too caught up in her own prose. And what was she yapping about? Serita would never know. And for once, she wasn't taking
notes on the foolishness. No, this note passing thing was about to get interesting. Besides, there was a weird sense of recollection in the exchange.
It was almost as if he should've expected "Do you like me? Check yes or no." When he opened the note.
But Serita had never been that damned corny. Grade school hadn't been about hollerin' at boys like her fast ass, desperate classmates were. And the
hell if she'd write something like that to this guy anyway. With that deep, confident voice, milk chocolate complexion and the gold combats that were
probably sitting in his closet, he probably had half the heifers on campus throwing it at him and Serita Banks was NOT the one. Instead, she scribbled
on the paper, quickly flicking the note back at him as Blakely turned around towards the class.
Maybe I don't think you're the bad guy...maybe I just don't like you!
Eyes still forward, her mouth curled into a smile, that deep dimple showing in her round cheek.
Oh good. She didn't hate him especially, she hated all men. Ha. Epic should count his blessings and be glad she hadn't said that one out loud. That
would have started an argument that wouldn't have ended with Blakely telling them to be quiet. Epic wasn't all men. He wasn't even a typical
man. He liked to think he carried himself at a higher standard than the typical black man. His pants weren't fourteen sizes too big and held up with a
shoe lace, he was getting his education, and he had somehow managed to remain respectful through this whole discourse. Could he get just a little
slack? Apparently not. Hell. If anyone should be disliked in this exchange, it was definitely her. He had been nothing but nice to her since that day
in the cafe.
Even when he could have played her whole life in front of a cafeteria of people, he chose not to. Of course, she had not given him the same courtesy,
with her sad attempt at embarrassment moments ago. Epic had been on line...there was no such thing as embarrassment any more and even if there was, it
wasn't going to come from this hurt female that was too afraid of men to even have a conversation with one.
Why was he still speaking to her? It was obvious she wanted no part of him and he normally would have become bored with any female that was this
shallow and disrespectful...but somehow she'd been able to keep his interest. Somehow, they'd made it to the point of passing notes like 5th graders;
something he wouldn't even expect to do with one of his sisters...definitely not. He kind of watched her as she jotted down her response. Oddly enough
he found himself low key eager to know what was coming next. She flipped the note onto his desk just as Blakely turned to face the class and he left
it there so not to draw attention to it. Seriously? He thinking logistics to note passing?
She just didn't like him huh? Fine. Well, why might that be? He waited for the professor to turn back to the board before passing the note
back smooth, placing it right in front of her before pulling away.
Of course. It wasn't just about dear Epicurus. What had he truly done besides being a complete know it all who couldn't wait to "up" her and flex his
brain waves all over their debate in the middle of Blakeley's class? What? Had he not thought that she would've seen through that entire conversation?
Him, not being able to wait a second to bring up the last point he'd mentioned to her in the cafeteria about Womanism being the new and completely
improved BlacK Feminism? Guess he wanted to argue his point. Well he had. And Serita still wasn't a believer. Her belief system was firm and in place,
disliking all things that were, in essence, man. To change one's beliefs, especially her, she liked to think it took more than a minutes long debate.
It took something so much more to win. Like taking the time to know the background of your opponent before questioning their argument. And that was
something that Epicurus would never do as Serita nether wanted a to change her ideology or give him any glimpse into her self. But...
Yes, but. There was something about him. Something that had her writing that last comment in their note exchange with a soft smile, her
comment, quick jest. She didn't really hate him, although he fit the "male" category to a "T". She was...she didn't know. Sadly entertained
by him? Hell, it wasn't everyday that she'd had the opportunity to meet a male who had a sturdy argument about the theory of women based
belief systems. Any guy that took a class like that was out for a misogynist argument or a glutton for punishment. But, Epicurus was
seemingly...neither. He had a brain and he was strikingly intelligent. And instead of making Serita recoil with annoyance (which she completely wanted
to do), it made her want to, she didn't know...draw closer? Sit longer? Talk...more. Completely pick his brain apart...even against the feeling that
any time in a man's head was dangerous as hell.
An amused smirk took place of that dimpled smile that she wore so smugly. He wanted to know what she didn't like him? The real answer was that she
hated how smart he was. Yes, she could admit it. He was pretty smart! And Serita wasn't use to being near someone that gave her a run for her
argument. She was and had always been the brilliant one in the class. Her argument so firm, her tongue so quick that when she spoke, no one dare
argued her point. But this was different. Epicurus dared. He dared and he did so without a lick of fear. She wasn't that "intimidating black girl" to
him. She could tell he wasn't threatened. No...she was competition.
Scribbling her message, she folded the paper again and boldly wedged it underneath Epicurus's arm where it rest on his desk.
You're intelligent and you're not ignorant to that fact. Quite cocky with it, actually. So it's not exactly you that I dislike, it's that
arrogance. Good thing I like the way you think.
She could kill that noise. Epic wasn't a know it all and he wasn't out to "up" her. What was her problem? Why was everything he said or did received
as an attack to her? The first time they had spoken he was simply trying to brighten her day in conversation. Today, he was simply trying to keep
her--and himself--out of trouble. Was she really that bitter and angry with every man she met that she would concoct a reason to hate him despite what
his intentions were? Hell, Epic didn't even have intentions! The other day had only been to get her to smile a little. No underlying motive. He just
knew what it was like to be on duty at a school that paid close to nothing for student employment. He was just trying to help a Queen out. She turned
it into a battle. A battle that she then lost.
And this little back and forth (because it hadn't been long enough to really qalify as a debate), this wasn't even the tip of the iceberg with Epic.
He didn't know shit about womanism compared to all of the knowledge he could really drop of this female. This cute little exchange had
been...entertaining, but if she was put off by him being a "know it all" now, she was right, they needed to stop talking immediately.
But...
He was mildly intrigued with her. The curiosity that killed the cat had it out for him too because this girl was sure to stress him to death if
they...well hell. How did they end up here? He was considering a relationship with Queen. Not anything big. He wasn't trying to wife her or anything,
but somehow he had come to the conclusion that a friendship was no longer out of the question...Perhaps it was this little note passing session that
had him thrown off or something...Speaking of which...
His thoughts paused as she slipped the note back to him, an explanation matching his former thoughts scribbled out in confession. Arrogance?
Arrogance. No ma'am.
Queen, you're sorely mistaken. Just because I don't cower under your very intimidating gaze doesn't mean I'm arrogant. Just resistant. Stubborn I
guess...But yeah I guess it's a good thing you like that. We wouldn't be having our first friendly conversation if you didn't. Ha.
Those deep, ebony eyes rolled at the word "cower" as soon as she read Epicurus's reply. Okay, so maybe she came off a bit..."strong". Alright,
aggressive. But how the hell was she supposed to be? Docile? Quiet? Easy? Yeah...no. That was the black woman's issue now! How anti-submissive they
tended to be and how men wanted something a bit more...malleable. The angry woman black stare. The rolling eyes and neck. That complete snap that came
out of their mouths when tried and the wave of that finger in the face of their instigator. Those were all things the America, hell the world, hated.
But Serita loved all of it. Because all of that attitude, all of that strength, made black women strong enough to endure it all. All the moments of
being ignored, unappreciated, abandoned, and underestimated. And if a dude couldn't feel where she was coming from, which they usually couldn't, it
was no sweat off her back. And if Epicurus couldn't respect that, then he could get the deuces too. Yep, just that quick...or was it? Of...of course
it was! He didn't owe her anything and she could be SURE that she didn't owe him a damn thing. So, yes. It would be that easy. Too many girls wrapped
their own egos up in what a man would take off of them. Serita, once again, was not the one.
And even though she "wasn't the one", she couldn't help but meet Epicurus's eye and smile at him quickly after reading the entire note. Stubborn?
Yeah, she could dig it. So was she. Stubborn and bullheaded and...completely opinionated, to say the least. She couldn't hate something in someone
else that she saw in herself. But quietly, she kept the feeling of elevated self-esteem to herself. She still saw it, whether she would admit it
outloud or not. Maybe...he would prove her wrong. If she gave him the opportunity to, that is.
Without hesitating, Serita picked up her pen to write back, leaning back in her seat as she wrote. The room was beginning to slip away again, just as
it had in the middle of their debate. Blakeley, their classmates, everything just kinda melted.
My gaze is intimidating, huh? You admitted it. Good for you. And "friendly conversation"? I guess you could say that. Care to keep it
going?
Um, what? What did she just write?! If she was a random dude, like the one she was note talking to, she would've seen that as an invitation for...a
date? A smash session? God knows what? Well, she couldn't erase it because that would look crazy if she was actually pondering over some dumb note she
was passing back and forth with a guy she barely knew. The gears spinning, she quickly jotted down a couple more words before she passed the note back
to Epicurus.
...as you raise some pretty valid points and I mean, hey! Might as well steal, i mean "borrow" some of your ideas for the research paper.
She was getting comfortable with him. Even if she didn't care to admit it, he could tell with the way she leaned back in her seat, to write a reply.
With the way the corners of her mouth picked up as she looked at his response; and the deep dimple in her cheek, that made him wonder if she had a
matching one...oh hell. What was he doing? He didn't have time for her. Not her. She was so...extra. There were too many things going on with
her that he, one; didn't know about, two; didn't want to know about, and three; didn't want to take responsibility for fixing. Even his
smallest fuck-ups would be monumental. And he was bound to fuck up. As she loved to point out, he was a man.
Admitted it? Why shouldn't he? He was sure she practiced her little death stare in the mirror during her free time. That swift little pat on the back
was probably the highlight of her day. Sure, he was intimidated by her. She was intelligent, quick-witted...and stubborn. So freaking stubborn. Even
now she was sticking to her anti-social guns; quantifying her suggestion to keep their conversation going. Really? Even if he was interested in sex
with her, did she expect him to ask for it over this note? Epic sighed a little, shaking his head in amusement as her replied to the note, doing what
she couldn't.
So maybe I can give you these valid points over lunch or something sometime...ya know. For your paper.
This time he smirked as he simply held the note out for her to take this time. It was as if they weren't in class anymore. None of what Blakeley was
saying important anyway...this somehow just...was.
So? Maybe she was getting comfortable with their exchange! Big damn deal! Although, this was the first conversation about something other than a class
(well, it was still sort of about class) that she was having with a man and not biting his head off. Advancement? Not really. She'd just gotten into a
written dialogue with a male that didn't make her want to shank him in the face with his own idiocy. It was refreshing and different. So, she relaxed.
Simple as that. And even if it wasn't that simple, she was going to play it off like it was. Did she ever think that "the Caf' Ass" would be the
person that she linked that feeling with? No, not by a longshot. That line jacket and that assured smirk still had her looking at him sideways. But,
she couldn't disagree that there was something different with this guy. That he was on another level from the Ques, or Greeks, that she saw parading
around campus...all "letter" and no substance. It was a surprise. A surprised that Serita wasn't so sure she liked.
Blatantly pulling the note from his waiting hand, instead of trying to hide their written conversation from Blakely, Serita opened paper and
read...and nearly cussed out loud! Well. Composing her expression quickly, she looked at Epicurus again, her eyes narrowing as she studied
him. Studied his expression. She couldn't see anything there. Any sign of humor or joking. Because dude had just asked her out! Okay, maybe not asked
her out. Maybe she was making that up! But the words were simple. So simple there was no way she couldn't see them for what they were. He wanted to
hangout...outside of class. Well isn't that what she wanted? Uh...not wanted. Suggested. Yeah, that was a better word. Yeah, this was just a study
outing. Just two classmates hanging out. Shooting the shit...yeah!
Finally looking away from where she held Epicurus's gaze, Serita picked up her pen and wrote.
Bet. And don't be mad when I flip one of your "valid points" better than you can...
![[*]](images/davis/default_icon.gif){kind=icon}
