Page 5 of Beautiful Beginning

I wanted to blurt, “My voice?” But I pointed to myself instead and laughed. “Dr. Martin, that’s all a popularity contest.” I waved him off. “The handful of people I kick it with on campus wouldn’t be enough to win. Besides, I don’t know how much people worry about voter disparities, or anything that I’m interested in.”

He shrugged. “Change, no matter how small—”

“Can make a rippling effect.” I heard the words more than I could remember in the four years at Hillside. It wasn’t only his motto, but every professor on campus, it seemed. “It doesn’t matter anyway.” I reminded him, “SGA president got voted in last semester. And I graduate in…” I pulled my phone from my pocket. “In nine months.” The look of disappointment on his face made me offer, “I’ll continue writing for the paper though. Write my opinions for anyone who’ll read them.”

His smirk turned into a frown. “You have thought-provoking words. But you can’t hide behind them.” He rested his hand on my shoulder. “Put them to action.”

It reminded me of my dad telling me to “put your money where your mouth is…” in random situations that the words didn’t apply to.

“Alright, enough of my lecturing.” Professor Martin’s hand slid from my shoulder. “See you Thursday.”

I waved and walked out of the classroom. Inside the two small windows facing the trees made it hard to recognize the sun shining bright. So my eyes squinted as I made my way into the courtyard. I planned to get across campus to the library. With a few hours before my next class, I could start on the paper.

But I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Tilted my head to the side and watched the girl leaving the building in front of me.

The person behind me yelled, “Yo, bruh.”

“My bad.” I held my hand up as I moved to the side and watched her stride along the sidewalk in my direction. Days after bumping into her and spilling her coffee over her white shirt, I looked for her. Hoped I’d bump, but notbump,into her around campus. Or that any random robo-call would be her asking to take me up on the coffee I owed her. I didn’t see her, and she didn’t call.

I could have let her pass, continue walking along the sidewalk and watch her from the sidelines. Or… I could walk beside her and speak.Put your money where your mouth is.Another random application, but it had me walking beside her.

“Excuse me.” I cleared my throat. “Journey, right?”

Her eyes narrowed before a small smile slid across her lips. “Chad?” Her steps continued but slowed.

I shook my head.

“Chaz.” She pointed. “Sorry. I’m not the best with names. But it’s Chaz, right?”

“Yeah. It is. And I owe you a coffee. I feel terrible about spilling yours. Messing up your outfit.” I didn’t tell her that moment, in all its awkwardness, was the highlight of my time at Hillside. The moment that made me think I was on campus to do more than grab my degree and run.

Of course, campus didn’t lack beautiful ass Black women. Women that had me thinking I dropped onto the sidelines of a runway somehow. Women who were more than a beautiful face, and banging body, but who had the intelligence to go along with it. Not that beautiful Black women didn’t attend Ivy League schools. But the number of them at Hillside made me want to video call my mama and let her watch and say, “See.” As she admired them.

Still, the others didn’t compare to Journey. And who named a woman like that Journey, anyway? Someone who knew the person who crossed her path was about to go on a ride. Discover some shit about themselves. At least that’s what I stayed up thinking that night after I bumped into her. I buckled up and waited for the call to tell me to jump into the passenger seat.

“At least it wasn’t hot…”

I stared at her. Blinked a few times and wished like hell there was a whiteboard behind her that gave me a clue into her thoughts. “Huh?”

“The coffee.” She stopped walking. “We were talking about coffee.” She pointed to the coffee shop a few feet away. “When you bumped into me…”

“Right.” I felt like an idiot. How did I not make that connection? “I’m glad it wasn’t.” I sucked my teeth. “That would have been all bad. I would have owed you more than a coffee to make up for that.”

“Like what?” Her painted fingernail rested on her chin. “What do you think could make up for hot coffee dripping down my body?”

Somebody poured hot coffee down my back apparently. The August heat was torturous, but not that much. Not enough to make sweat bead up on my forehead. Like I needed a towel to wipe it. “A few dinners.” I wagged my head. “To start.”

But to be honest, what the hell could make up for pouring hot coffee on someone? Dinners? What the hell was I thinking?

“A few dinners.” She toyed with the strap of her bag. Then shifted her book to her other hand. “Good thing it wasn’t hot because I’m not sure that would cut it.” She laughed and my insides felt like shards of glass, breaking into tiny pieces. “But I have time now if you want to grab that coffee.”

“Now?” I looked at my phone like I wouldn’t skip everything to buy her that coffee.

“Unless now isn’t a good time.”

“It’s perfect.” Neither of us moved though. The ray of sunshine cascading on her face made her eyes shine. “You’re beautiful.”

Her entire face lit up like every man on campus hadn’t said it at least once in passing. “Thank you.”

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