Celeste Love Of My Life

This is a story where I will have character development interspersed with erotic scenes, but it is intended to explore a mixed race couple and the difficulties they can face in life. As I usually state, if this kind of thing (interracial couples) is not your kind of thing, please find a different story to read - there are loads of stories here, you should be able to find something!

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I first met Celeste when we were freshmen at an Ivy League school. I did not come from an Ivy League family, but I had exceptional grades and test scores and a high school counselor who was an alum, so I got in and at a rate that my family could afford. So here I was at a Freshman mixer with a bunch of kids who had known privileges way (way, way) beyond my own, and feeling terribly out of place. Impostor syndrome in the most textbook example I could imagine.

To say that my first first time meeting Celeste was not "love at first sight" would be quite an understatement.

Looking around the place, full of dark wood, dark carpets and very high ceilings I spied her in a corner sitting alone and looking a bit like a similar fish out of water. I decided that rather than be alone wondering what the hell I was doing there, I'd at least take a chance.

"Hi," I said, walking up, "I'm Sean. Mind if I sit down?"

She gestured toward a leather bound, overstuffed chair next to her.

"You look like you feel as out of place as I do," I said to her. The look on her face told me that I'd just seriously put my foot in my mouth, though I was not sure why at the time.

"Look, cracker, I don't need that crap from you!" she said.

"What?" I asked. "Did you just call me 'cracker'?"

She lit into me about making a racist remark about whether she fit in or not, and implying that she didn't belong or she was just there 'because' she was a black woman. I was dumbfounded.

"Look, I'd like to apologize if I made you feel that way - I promise it was not because you're African American."

"Black."

"Black?" I asked.

"African American can seem kind of stodgy and formal. I just say 'black' most of the time."

I looked at her for a moment.

"I'm kind of confused," I admitted, "I don't know how to refer to people."

"How about as people? How about you try to find out what they prefer?"

"Are you suggesting that I should just walk up to people and ask, 'Say, how would you like to be referred to? As black, African American, or something else?'"

"No, just talk to them like you would anyone else!"

"Well that's just what I tried to do here with you, but you bit my head off!"

"Yeah, cause you said that I didn't belong here!"

"No, I said that you looked like you feel out of place - like I do. I said that you look like YOU FEEL out of place, not that you are out of place."

"You feel out of place here, too?" she asked.

"God yes, all these snooty kids who grew up like this - my whole house would easily fit inside this room - right up to the roof based on how high these ceilings are. I wouldn't be here were it not for a very generous scholarship."

"Yeah, me neither!" she replied.

She finally was looking at me less like I was a racist pig, and a little more gently. But only a little more gently.

"Geez, how did someone so stupid get a scholarship?" she asked.

"So stupid? You think I'm stupid?"

"Yeah, a white boy walking up to a black girl and starting out the way you did. It's a wonder I didn't knock you on your ass right then and there."

Looking at her, I had little doubt that she could easily knock me on my ass.

"I already apologized for that - I didn't mean anything by it, honestly!"

"See? Stupid! I bet you're all kinds of book-smart, but you sure got some way to go in the real-world department. Which school are you in?"

"Physics, and a minor in Music."

She looked a little surprised.

"Music and physics? Why Physics?"

"Because I'm always curious how the world works, and physics touches it all."

"Physics touches music?"

"Absolutely! All those notes - they're physical! Frequencies, tones, overtones. How to record it, reproduce it, store it. It's all there."

"Do you play an instrument?"

"Yes, I play several," I replied.

"Such as?"

"Piano, guitar, including bass and six string, trumpet and I can get by with any brass instrument, and I can play woodwinds, too, but I'm not very good. I can also fake it on a mandolin or a banjo or a ukulele."

"Well, damn, no wonder you're socially awkward, when did you have time to do anything else?"

"Who says that I'm socially awkward!"

"Do I need to remind you again how this conversation got started?" she asked me.

"Do I need to apologize again?"

"Maybe." she said, emphatically.

"OK, I'm sorry if I offended you, I promise that I did not intend it to be offensive in any way. You just looked like you were separating yourself from the crowd. And then I thought 'maybe there's a kindred spirit, I think I will go talk to her.'"

Again her look softened.

"So, what about you," I asked, "what school are you in?"

"Literature and the Arts," she said, "I write and I do illustrations. So, how does physics touch that?" she shot at me, "Mr. 'Physics touches everything'?"

"What do you write about?" I asked.

"You didn't answer my question!" she shot back.

"No, I'm going to help you answer your question. Now, what do you write about?"

"Feelings. Love. History. Where did we come from? Where are we going? Urban issues. Human longing. What the hell does that have to do with Physics?"

"Our feelings result in releases of dopamine and hormones and adrenaline. How will we get where we are going without this world to support us? What are the problems in urban areas, and how are we going to fix them? All of that is physics. It's at the nucleus of it all!"

About that time, a freshman faculty member walked up to the two of us.

"It looks like you two are having a lively discussion, but we'd like everyone to gather in the ballroom for a few minutes while we go over some things. Most everyone is there already, except for a few stragglers. So, stragglers, to whom do I have the pleasure of speaking? Please tell me your name, where you're from, and what you're major or school is. My name is Ms. Janice Martin, and I am a Freshman advisor in the school of Mathematics."

I nodded to Celeste to go first.

"I'm Celeste Franklin, I'm from Philadelphia, and I am in the school of Literature and the Arts."

"Wonderful, and you?" Ms. Martin said, looking my way.

"Sean Weeks, I'm from a small town, Wesley, Ohio, and I'm in the school of Physics."

"With a minor in music!" Celeste interjected when I did not include that part.

"Oh my! That's not an easy road to go down, both can be demanding, but I'm sure that you're up to the challenge, Mr. Weeks. Now, Ms. Franklin and Mr. Weeks, please head to the ballroom."

The ballroom was set with tables and a stage and, simply because we had walked in together, I sat down next to Celeste. There we had a presentation and discussion all of the class traditions - Freshman, Sophomore, Junior, Senior, and then back around to the Freshman. When the session finished it was late - almost 10:30 at night.

"Would you like me to walk you back to your dorm?" I asked Celeste.

Again I had a look from her like I'd put my foot in my mouth.

"I barely know you!" she said, "Why would I trust you to walk me anywhere, much less so you know where I live?"

I was stunned - I was simply asking to be polite.

"Look, I was just trying to be nice - you can say 'no' without taking my head off!"

I turned and headed toward the door.

"Sean, wait!" she said.

I stopped and turned, but I did not walk back in her direction.

"Look, I'm sorry if I seem sharp to you - when you live in a place like Philly, you learn to be forceful and cautious. I'm sure that you mean well, and well, like I say, I'm sorry to come off as curt. Tomorrow is Saturday, how about we meet for lunch at the cafeteria, maybe we can continue our 'lively discussion.'"

"You want to keep talking to me, even if I'm, how did you put it? 'Stupid? Socially awkward?'"

"Yeah," she said, smiling, "I was having fun sparring with you!"

"OK, how about 11:45?" I asked.

"Sounds good. And I'm never late!"

"Me, either!"

I almost asked again if she wanted to have an escort, but thought better of it.

We had lunch the next day, and we did continue our discussion. Although there was some sparring, in the end it was a good bit friendlier than the night before.

"So, do you have an instrument with you? Are you going to play in the band here?"

I told her that I had a guitar with me, but that my roommate had already forbidden me to play when he was around, but she said she'd like to hear me play sometime. Also, I was playing trumpet with the jazz band, and considered singing with one of the a capella groups on campus, but I needed to see if I could handle it all on my physics schedule.

I also asked about her writing and asked if I could read some.

She hesitated, then said, "I will have to pick some things for you. Some of it might be too much for a country boy like you to understand."

"Country boy!? I'll have you know that me and my family get into Zanesville at least once a month!"

I said it as a joke, but she didn't see it that way.

"Hmph! Zanesville, Ohio is not a city, there country boy! Once a month!?"

"It was supposed to be a joke!"

"Alright," she said, "I guess I missed that. But tell me, doesn't it bother a country boy from Bumfuck Ohio to be sitting here with a black girl?"

"Should it?" I asked.

"I thought everybody in Ohio was some kind of white bigot cracker?"

"Well," I replied, "I am white, and I am from Ohio, but no, not everyone there is a 'bigot cracker.' I think of myself as a bit more enlightened than that."

She just looked at me, then said, "Yeah, right!"

"Think what you want - I know who I am."

She looked at me for a couple of seconds.

"I don't know why you feel uncomfortable here, you are confident enough that you ought to feel comfortable anywhere. Just keep that attitude with the rich kids here, and I'm sure you'll do fine."

"And you," I replied, "keep those Philadelphia honed elbows sharp and I'm sure you'll do fine, too. Still, it's nice to have an ally, don't you think? Maybe we can get together occasionally and talk?"

"Am I being asked out by a midwest white cracker?"

"I didn't ask for a date so much as a conversation partner."

"So you wouldn't ask me out? Why not? Am I too much for you, or too black for you?"

"Geez, you don't quit, to you? I didn't say that I wouldn't ask you out, I was just hoping to keep, you know, 'sparring' with you, to use your words."

"Yeah, you just told me to keep my sharp elbows, and now you complain when I use them?"

Now I just looked at her.

"So, you want to go on a date?" I asked.

"Pfft! Not with you!"

I just rolled my eyes.

"Is it all women that I can't figure out, or just sharp-elbowed Philly women?" I said to no one in particular.

"If you were to ask me on a date, what would we do?" she asked.

"Go to a concert?" I asked.

"You mean like some hillbilly banjo playing band from Ohio, or something good like hip-hop?"

"Well, I don't really go for hillbilly, or hip-hop, either. I hear that the Symphony NH is playing on campus."

"Hmm, OK, I'll go to that with you?"

"You will?" I asked.

"You think because I'm black that I don't like classical music? You are a cracker!"

"I didn't mean that!" I protested.

"My cousin was graduated from the Curtis Institute. We were always going to recitals and concerts. I bet I saw more in Philly than you did in Bumfuck, Ohio!"

"Alright, then it's a date, right?" I asked, trying to steer the conversation away.

"Sure, we can grab a bite together here. You better dress sharp, there, country boy!"

"I will. And Celeste, I have a confession to make, and an apology."

"What?" she asked, looking at me.

"I was surprised that a black girl would like classical music. I was wrong, and I have some underlying biases that I need to review. I'm sorry."

What came next surprised - no, stunned - me. She leaned over and kissed my cheek.

"Thank you. For being honest with yourself, and with me. It's refreshing. We all have inner biases and we all need to review them. Wanna go for a walk?"

"Absolutely!" I replied.

We spent the afternoon walking around campus and into town and back. We talked about families and growing up and the stark differences. She knew more cousins and family in Philly than I had. My mother was an only child, and my father had a sister. I knew Aunt Jane's kids, but they lived in Illinois (coincidentally, near Zanesville, IL), so I only saw them once a year when we were younger, and even less as we got older and involved with things like summer jobs and the like.

I loved the outdoors and hiking and camping, and she was truly a city girl. To me, Hanover was bustling, to her it was Podunk. Still, we had a great time talking, and our sparring got toned down a bit in spite of some stark contrasts.

Classes got started that week and we each had a ton of stuff thrown at us, but we met for dinner a few times through the week. Our date was Friday, so I took a shower after classes and put on a suit. I didn't often wear one, and would not even have had it with me except for my mother's badgering me to pack it. It did not fit particularly well, but it would have to do.

When I found Celeste at the cafeteria she burst out laughing.

"Sean! When did you buy that suit, when you were 12? That tie is way, way too short for you! Dude, we have to update your look!"

She made me take off the tie, something I didn't really argue about.

"It's too late to do anything else here, but we have got to find you a better way to look dressy. You could look sharp, but not in that! Tomorrow, we are looking for something better!"

She, on the other hand, was stunning in an electric blue dress. The color of the dress against her dark skin just popped. In addition, it was tight in all the right places and showed off her curves in ways that I had not especially noticed before.

"You, though," I said to her, "look stunning! I am clearly outclassed here!"

"Thank you, and you're right - you are outclassed here!" she said, laughing, "and not just because of that suit!"

I'd come to like her sassiness. When it came to academics, I could spar with her, but socially I guess I was more than a bit awkward.

We ate and then went to the concert. Being on a college campus, there were people there in all manner of dress - from shorts and flip-flops all the way through evening gowns and tuxes, leaving us somewhere in the middle. The music was terrific and when we left she let me walk her to her dorm.

"So now you know where I live," she said, "I think I can trust you with that info. Thank you for the date - I had fun!"

"So did I. We can do it again?" I asked.

"Sure, I'd like that, too!" she replied.

I took her hand and kissed the back of it.

"Then goodnight, fair maiden!" I said.

"You're a dope!" she said as she turned and headed into the dorm.

I walked with a spring in my step as I headed back to my dorm.

The next day she called me.

"Ready?" she asked when I answered.

"For?"

"Updating that junior high suit for something more appropriate!"

"Wait, you were serious about that?"

"Hell yes! You can't be at this school wearing that! The pants are too short, too tight and the jacket - don't even get me started. Now, let's go!"

We went and looked for something more appropriate. She pushed me to find a properly fitting suit, as well as a couple of pairs of slacks and a sport coat.

I called my parents and told them what I was looking at, and asking if we had the budget for it.

"I love the idea!" my mother said, "So yes, we can send you the funds to pay for it. Put it on your credit card and we'll make sure to get it before the bill is due!"

"So," my dad added, "what's her name?"

"Who?"

"There's no way you just wanted to do this out of the blue! What's her name?"

I looked at Celeste, then spoke into the phone.

"Celeste."

"I knew it! I knew there was some girl behind this! Now listen, don't you let some blue-eyed, dimpled gal get you off of your studies!" he said.

"No, Dad, I won't."

"Does she have blue eyes?" he asked.

"No, Dad."

"Well then what color are they?"

"Brown."

"'You my, brown eyed girl!'" he started singing, "Same story, though - don't let her get you off your studies!"

"No, Dad, I won't! Listen, I have to go - thanks for agreeing!"

"We love you!" my mother said.

"Yeah, we do!" my dad added.

"Yeah, I love you guys, too! Bye!" I said hanging up.

Celeste looked at me.

"What's brown?" she asked.

"Your eyes," I replied.

"You didn't even have to look, did you?" she asked.

"Nope, I'd already looked. They're beautiful."

She just looked at me.

"Don't you be getting any ideas, there, cracker!"

"I just said that they're beautiful - and they are!"

"Alright, cool your jets! They're OK with buying these?"

"Yes, I can put it on a credit card and they'll forward me the funds."

"You know, now we may have to go on another date!" she said, smiling at me.

"Then it's definitely worth it!"

After paying and walking back toward campus she said, "You need to burn that other one!"

"What?"

"That suit - get rid of it!"

"Can I give it to Goodwill or something?"

"OK, sure, just get it out of your closet! Unless you go back in time there is never a reason for you to even think about putting it on again!"

"How about we go to a movie together?" I asked.

"A movie - are you going to wear one of these to the movies?"

"If you want me to," I replied.

"OK, a movie, but we don't need to get dressed up to do that!"

We went to the movie on campus - you know, the art-type of movies that colleges love to show. It was a sub-titled French movie shot in black and white for that retro look. I hated it, but Celeste loved it. When we got back to her dorm, I again reached for her hand, but when I did, she pulled me to her and hugged me, and kissed my cheek, and I, in turn, kissed hers.

"Goodnight, Sean!" she said, "I had another good time with you!"

"Goodnight, Celeste!" I said.

As the fall quarter moved forward, Celeste and I continued to see one another, though the demands of classes grew. We still ate together a couple of times a week, but even weekends got busy with school demands.

Still we took to walking across campus holding hands and just being a couple. One day we were near the administration building when suddenly we heard, "Well, Mr. Weeks and Ms. Franklin - isn't it interesting where a lively discussion can lead?"

We turned to see Ms. Martin from the Freshman mixer back at the beginning of the term. I was surprised that she remembered our names.

"I don't know that I'd have guessed this that first evening, but I'm happy to see that a friendship has happened."

One night after another date, at the door to her dorm, when we went to hug, I leaned in and kissed her - not on the cheek, but on the lips. She stepped back and looked at me and I thought I'd fucked up. Then she took my face in her hands and kissed me back. Suddenly we were in an all out kiss of passion. I could feel my cock start to swell and she pushed us together.

"Wow!" I said as the kiss ended.

"Yeah, wow!" she repeated. "Um, good night, then!"

"Good night!"

There was more than a spring in my step this time as I headed back to my dorm.

The term wore on, and school pressures increased. Her outspoken nature helped her in some classes and was kind of a detriment in others. Some of our talks went to me encouraging her to accommodate some of the more traditionally thinking professors. I was trying to be pragmatic - keep up the grades where she could, because an overall high GPA would serve her well, but she took the side that it was compromising her principles. Because we'd sparred early on, we could have these conversations and not get angry, but hear one another instead.