A black guy, built like a small tank and wearing a nothing on but a towel opened the door. Once I had summoned my courage and knocked on the door, I waited for a long time before someone opened the door but when I saw who it was I thought maybe it was better if I hadn't tried to get it open. I walked up the garden and onto the porch of the house Sasha had just been inside. I didn't follow her this time but got out of the car, my emotions a mixture of confusion and hatred and maybe a little a fear about what I was going to find out. An old Ford drove slowly past me, with two mean looking black thugs giving me the dirtiest looks as I clearly looked out of place in this area with my Mini Cooper and pink Polo top.Īfter about an hour, Sasha finally left the house and drove away. I sat in my car and began to think about what to do, my rage replacing my previous emotions of love, fuelled by this horrible twist in my young life. The fucking bitch" I said to myself as I came to understand what was happening.Īfter everything that we had been through, after all that love and she would throw it away so casually? Not if I had my say, I thought. Pretty soon, somebody opened it and she stepped in to the darkness of the indoors. She walked up to one of the houses and knocked on the door. I noticed she was wearing some sexy attire, tight white top and a black tennis skirt.
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Sasha parked on an unremarkable street and got out of her car. My parents were from there but they worked hard to make sure I didn't have to live in the ghetto. Soon, we were in South Central and driving through the rough streets, I was reminded that if you ain't got a reason to be in the hood, don't go there. I had been tipped off that she would be most likely going on one of her strange trips and as soon I was driving behind her, I found out she was. So I parked outside her house one day and without being seen, I followed her. We were from the upside of town so we didn't have a reason to be going there and I couldn't figure what the hell she would be doing in the hood. I began to ask around and people told me she had been seen driving around a lot in strange places, as far South Central, LA. Nevertheless, what Randy had said made me concerned and I decided to investigate. A lot of people said I looked like Tristan Wilds from 90210. I was the complete package, being also from a well-to-do family.
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I was hot: good looking, with dark ember skin, a set of full of African lips and bodied like a Greek god, with a muscled, broad back which I had perfected playing running back in football.
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"How the hell is Sasha going to cheat on me, look at me nigger? Every bitch in school wants to fuck me." Randy didn't say anything because he knew I had a point. "What the fuck is you talking about nigger?" I demanded to know, accusing him of talking nonsense. Sasha was cheating on you," my friend Randy said. A couple of my friends I had told, Jamal and Randy, comforted me a little butt I was surprised to find out that they weren't too surprised. I tried calling her a few times but it was to no avail, she wouldn't talk to me. I spent a few days at home hiding, wallowing in self-pity and confusion, not sure how this had happened. I was devastated and completely blind sided.
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That's when I get a phone call from her, a day before our anniversary and an hour later, she's dumped me. We had been together for 3 years and looked set to be together for another 3, at least. The only down side was that my girlfriend Sasha wasn't coming to the same college because she had other plans. I had just graduated from high school and set off to go to a top university and I couldn't wait.