The Resistance

Chapter 27

On my way to the last class of the day, I spotted Omar. I had no idea he was at school today. He hasn't been in any of the classes we share. Ever since that day at the center, he had been purposely avoiding me.

He was going into the restroom, so I went in there too. He was just staring in the mirror until he seen me.

"How... how have you been?"

He turned around and leaned against the sink.

"Oh you gave me money and now you think you can be my friend? I'm not looking for a friend."

I'm not interested in being friends with him either. I only have one. For now. I guess. Kaelynn has been trying her best to be more positive, but I don't know. She kept up a good front for about a week. Lately she has been letting her attitude slip out a lot more though. Not only that, but we haven't started exercising yet. I will give it to her though... She eats better. She didn't eat that bad before, but she cut out some of her favorite junk food.

"I don't expect us to be friends. Really, I don't. I'm just curious to know if you're doing okay."

"Why do you suddenly care? And why are you so close to me?" He started mean mugging me as he balled his fist up. "You better not dare attempt to come out to me."

Come ou... this nigga thinks I'm gay? He knew I was just with a female a month or so ago. He's the one that broke the shit up! Before I get mad, I need to keep in mind that this is what Omar does. He throws around insults and aggression just to hide how he truly feels.

I feel like I'm wasting my time trying to get through to people, but I keep on trying. I don't know why. I should just give up like they do. That's not a part of who I am though.

"Oh I'm gay because I want to help a guy out?"

"Were you asking me or telling me nigga?"

I can see why I would always try to avoid talking to him.

"I'm not gay, Omar."

"Really? Coulda fooled me."

See, if I was petty I would ask him if he thinks my clothes are gay too. I'm just going to get to the point.

"Look, here." I pulled out two stapled sheets of paper.

"The fuck is that?"

"A Branded application."

"What? So I can make two dollars an hour? Nah, rich boy. I'm good."

Branded has flexible hours. He could go in right after school and stay until closing. That wouldn't be eight hours, but it would be something. The starting pay is nine dollars, not two.

"I wish you would stop calling me that."

"What, rich boy? It's true. You don't ever have to worry about money. Not even when the old man croaks. You'll really be rich then."

Damn, so I guess most people only see pops for his money. I'm tired of having this conversation with him though.

"If you do turn the application in, make sure you give it directly to Pauline Turner. She is the manager. You don't have to worry about me trying to help you anymore after this."

Am I so wrong for wanting to help another male? A black male at that. We have it hard out here just because of the color of our skin. I want us all to win. He is so stuck up in his pride that he doesn't realize that though. There isn't too much more I can do, so I give up. I did my part. I gave him a sure money source. It's up to him if he wants to accept it or not.