Page 30 of Prickly Romance

The moment I enter the classroom, I’m immediately surrounded. My eyes dart back and forth between all the eager faces. We’re not a particularly friendly class and I’ve kept to myself while on campus, so all the staring is new.

And unwelcome.

I stumble to my seat, sinking in low.

A girl takes the chair next to me. She’s got her hair dyed blue, but the color actually fits her peaches-and-cream complexion. Her eyes are a big, expressive brown and she smiles at me as I sink into my chair.

“That’s enough breathing down her neck, you vultures. Give the girl some room.”

A few students step back, but not far enough for my taste.

The girl grins at me. “Darlene, right?”

“Uh, no. It’s Dejonae.”

“Right. Right.” She smacks her lips like we haven’t been taking the same class all semester.

“I’m Taylor.”

I nod and slip my ear buds in, hoping that’ll deter Taylor and the others. My stomach’s still burning from Sazuki’s surprise visit today and I’m not really in the mood to talk to anyone.

“How do you know Sazuki?” Taylor asks.

“I don’t.”

“Come on. You expect us to believe that one of the most reclusive celebrities in the world just randomly decided to walk you to class?”

“I don’t really care if you believe it or not. It’s the truth.”

The friendly facade drops and she gives me a frigid stare. “What kind of relationship do you have with Sazuki?”

I keep quiet.

She leans closer and whispers, “Are you his drug dealer?”

The cap on my temper pops and hot lava pours from my mouth. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“There’s only a few reasons he’d be hanging around you. And it’s not like you’d be his sugar baby.” She scrunches her nose. “You don’t look like Sazuki’s type.”

My jaw opens and closes. I don’t know if I should be grateful that I don’t ‘look like a sugar baby’—whatever that means—or if I should be outraged that she doesn’t consider me to be Sazuki’s ‘type’.

“Are you saying Sazuki wouldn’t want me sexually because I’m black. Or thatsince I’m black, the only reason he would seek me out would be that I sell drugs?”

“This isn’t a black or white thing, Deidra. I just want the truth.”

“It’s Dee-jon-ae!” I hiss. “And why the hell are you entitled to my business? You think saying you want the truth will make you seem less nosy and condescending? You think I’m so insecure that I’d jump at the chance to be friends with you because you now deem it appropriate to talk to me?”

She rolls her eyes. “Geez. You’re totally overreacting.”

“No, I’m expressing my emotions!” I want to throw my purse at her. “Don’t minimize my feelings by calling me aggressive or loud or whatever other stereotype you can pull out of your ignorant brain. I’m responding appropriately. You were rude for insinuating that I’m Sazuki’s drug dealer. You were rude for suggesting that I’m not attractive. And you’re a hypocrite for acting friendly with me to try and squeeze out information on a celebrity. So you know what? Screw you.” I flip her off because I don’t have it in me to be politically correct today.

Snatching my bag off the floor, I storm down to the exits and smash the door open.

Has the entire world gone mad? Damn!

“Miss Williams.” A mousy woman spots me in the hallway and motions to me. “The dean would like to speak to you.”

I nearly groan.What is this now?

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