On The Corner Of 32nd Ave

01. In Which A Black Girl Has Potential

Chapter 01. In Which A Black Girl Has Potential

       "Use boxing gloves the next time you decide to use me as a punching bag. It'll hurt a lot less for the both of us. I am not the reason behind your denial." Carter stormed away from me with those words, pushing his legs quickly away from the broken mess I was. He disappeared in the crowd of faces that walked down 8th street in the city we nicknamed the "small apple." To us the city never felt all that big. We always felt a little bigger than the growing pains that come with moving to the city for college. It was easy to feel incredibly small. Incredibly helpless in a big bustling city like New York. So we named it the "small apple" as a way to feel a little bit bigger than the growing pains. It helped us feel a little less drowned out by the bustling of people, the smell of garbage in the alleyways, the cars that flew past so quick down our city streets or the talented classmates we'd have to face daily who'd show us up with every move they made. The feeling of being lost in such a talented city bursting with excitement was so easy to get drowned in.

I have now spent five years of my life in this city yet, I've never made it feel like home. The small apple still felt very small and love had never come easy. It was almost impossible to find the right man, if I could even say I was attracted to men. To say the least college had sped past me in a blur of drunken nights, dazed seminars and routinely weekends bar sessions with my friends Carter, Sierra, and TJ. We lived life in a bubble of platonic love and throughout our fights and disagreements we managed to still find a safe haven within one another. The bonds I have with each one of them was the most important thing to come from this move. Carter tagged along with me as soon as I said I was leaving our small town in New Jersey.  I had known Carter since we were five and we had been inseparable since then.

We met Sierra on one of our drunken nights roaming the city. She had lost her group of ex-wicked friends that we came to find out, had ditched her to go to some party in a gentrified place in Brooklyn. We saw her sitting on the curb of a Manhattan street and plopped down next to her. She had a cigarette hanging off her lips which I took and began smoking. She smiled and we instantly bonded at that moment. I remember that night like it was yesterday. We ran around the whole city screaming and singing old music from the 2000s that we grew up on and when the night was over we all went back to my singles dorm room. We got even drunker and started to bond right there. Sierra took it upon herself to invite TJ, who when I had met, was Tina. He joined us on the floor of my room and we stared at the stars I placed on the ceiling in my dorm room.

        I huffed. I should've stopped Carter, called after him. Forced him to stand there and speak to me before I felt our bubble pop but I just stood there holding my vinyl records in my arms against my chest. I was an asshole in the greatest form that there could be. I did use him as a punching bag, our whole lives I've done it. Today was the first time in years since he's last snapped on me. I stared back into the record store, I watched as the beautiful girl sashayed her way around the records. Her long fingers skimming through each one delicately. Her face was at peace, her long brown hair flowed all the way down to her waist, the way she moved from one foot to the other, moving her hips in a way that screamed to me to go in there and say the simple words, "You're beautiful."

      But, I could never. To my hispanic mother and black father, I was a heterosexual woman whose dated men her whole life. I had only ever experienced the hands of man on my waist, rough fingers on my cheek, strong arms that could wrap around my body twice. Not that a woman's hands couldn't provide the same comfort, the same feeling. I was just scared that that feeling would be so strong I would never be able to look at a man again and in this world, being a mixed child whose a woman is already a difficult burden placed on my back. I kept staring at the woman. Her profile was even more elegant than I could imagine. The bridge of her nose dipped down to form a cute button tip that descended to her lips that looked plump, well taken care of. I stayed locked, just watching as she moved around the store. I closed my eyes for a second. I probably looked insane standing there with my eyes closed in the middle of the sidewalk. Took a deep breath of the polluted NYC air and began walking in the direction Carter stormed off in.