Broken

Chapter Five: We Ain't Sharing a Bed

"No!" Becky shrieked. "You are not allowed in this area. Whites only."

"But ma'am--" I started.

"She has every right to dance here as I do." Jordan stood his ground.

"No, she doesn't. She's one of them black girls no one likes."

"My father is white!" I regretted saying before it fully left my mouth.

"Really?" She stepped closer and sized me up. "Who, then? I bet you don't even know."

"Charles Michaels."

"I don't recognize the name."

"She never asked if you did." Jordan shot.

Becky paused to stare daggers at him. "I don't care if you got the worst tan in America. I don't want you on my dance floor and that's that."

"You are a--"

"Jordan!" I yelled. "We're lucky she'll feed us, let's just go back to our seats."

Unforgettable in every way. And forever more, that's how you'll stay.

Some of the dancers got off beat because of our scene. I quickly left out of the way. Don't draw too much attention to yourself.

You're not important enough to draw attention.

The tips of my ears were so hot I was afraid it would singe my hair. I covered my chest with my arms. They were too small to do any good, but I still tried.

Why don't you eat something? Plump yourself up so you at least you don't die of starvation. You'll die of fat shaming.

Stop it.

I didn't look up at all but I could feel his gaze already apologizing. I was about to say something when the dainty claps of heels grew louder.

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't help but overhear the situation."

I glanced. It's one of those girls, I immediately realized, with the Johnny boy from earlier. She was tall and thin, almost flat. Her dark brown hair was straight and cut in a bob with a bump at the end. Her skin was light and she had deep brown eyes that drew you in. Her rosy lips were forever curled into a smile waiting to be unleashed. She wore a modest dress of baby blue and black Mary Jane shoes.

Jordan barely gave her the time of day. I, however, was staring like a drunk lesbian.

"I was just, um, wondering if you would like to, um, dance with me instead." I could hear the seductiveness in her voice.

"No thanks." Jordan didn't smile.

"I'm a real good dancer." She leaned over.

They must have put an extra shot of confidence in her coffee, I thought.

"I'm not interested. But I'm flattered." He was completely emotionless. "I'm here with someone."

"She's nothing compared to me, I promise. Why don't you let me prove it to you?" she rested her nails on his shoulder before he brushed her off at lightning speed.

A sudden movement caught my eye behind him. Johnny was getting up and heading this way. He didn't look happy, although I didn't know if he was capable of ever looking happy with a face like his.

"What's the problem Karen?" he sauntered up cooly. A large hand rested on the belt of his khaki pants. He stood with such authority that I looked away in fear.

"This boy, um, doesn't seem to want to dance with me, Johnny. " She stage whispered the last part.

"I don't," Jordan confirmed tightly.