Odell and Kenya have been best friends throughout college. As graduation approaches and both their lives are set to change, they evaluate whether they should be more than friends.
The little over an hour ride from Oxford to London was awkward to say the least.
We're almost at the protest but here's a snippet of what happened on the way there.
"So Bil...I mean Scott, what made you want to go the Black Lives Matters protest?" Brandon asked to break the awkward silence of us driving on the road, with no sounds but the car.
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"That's a rather silly question. Why would I not?" He looked over at Brandon with a rather agitated look, then back at the road.
"Trust me, it's a lot of people that look like you that aren't breaking their necks to go to a protest about black people."
"Not all of them have black mothers." He said rather snappy.
"Don't mean to pry. But what happened to your real mother?" Brandon asked.
"Clarissa is my real mother as far as I'm concerned. Any mother who abandons her child, isn't worthy of my life or memory."
My heart sank. I knew that feeling all too well. Especially with my father. I wanted to say something, but the last thing I needed was to create more tension with O. I remained silent, just staring out the window.
O was scrolling through his phone.
"Well that's her lost Billy and don't let nobody tell you different." Brandon said.
"Whose Billy?" Scott looked confused.
"My bad. Forgive me. I meant Scott. You remind of this guy I know name Billy."
"Ah-ha." He shook his head he understood.
"Are you into Science like your mom?"
"Oh no. I haven't the smarts for it. I'm a Journalist."
"Oh cool. So do you write for a publication or...?"
"I mostly freelance. Writing various places."
"Sorry if I'm asking too many questions. At any moment, feel free to tell me to shut up."
"It's fine. I don't get asked too many questions about myself, I usually do the asking so feel free to ask anything you want."
"What do you mainly write about?"
"Topics of race and gender. Currently I'm working on a piece of the invisibility of black women in social movements. I find it rather fascinating." I felt him looking through the mirror at me, but I refused to stare back.
"What do you mean invisibility of black women?"
"I know you see this in America more than I, but don't you think it's a little problematic that when a black man like Alton Sterling or Philando Castile die brutal deaths, an army of black women come out in support of them, but very rarely do people support black women in their causes in the same way."
