Alex approached Molly and grabbed her hand. Molly was walking quickly through the hallway before 6th hour, and didn't want any of her friends to see her talking to the black boy. "Let go of me, Alex."
"I just want to hold your hand. You're so beautiful."
Molly was disgusted. "Please let me go," she tried to pull her hand away, but failed. She sighed, realizing she was not going to free herself.
"Just walk with me for a little while." He leaned closer to her, rubbing his face against hers.
"Stop it!" Molly started to make a scene. She struggled with all her might until he let her go.
Then eighteen-year-old Molly walked into her class, not to learn, but to flirt with a boy she considered more worthy of her.
Alex's schedule of classes were over, but the day was far from done. He got into his $1,500 car and headed for the laundromat to earn some money.
All of the girls he saw had at least one trait that reminded him of Molly. The white skin? The confident walk? If he were to make a list, it would go on for miles.
He looked at the clock, 10pm, only a half an hour left. He would be glad when he could take his shoes off and relax for a while.
Why do I like Molly, he wondered. Sure, she was cute, and her personality was alright, but she never appreciated him. She acted like she was better than everyone else, especially black people. Alex knew how that went. "It's always the girls who crave black who are the rudest to us," his dad had told him several times before.
Alex and Molly had gone to school together for several years. He could remember when she used to wear no make-up and act sweet. He remembered how her light brown hair used to shine, before she bleached it platinum blonde. What a shame, he thought. He used to have a friend in her, but fashion and popularity had conquered Molly's goodness.
He just couldn't give up the idea that one day Molly would come around. He hated looking like a fool for being nice to such a snob, but he held on, living on the chance that he could help her.
The next day, Alex saw Molly at her locker and decided to greet her. A preppy-looking boy came out of nowhere and flung his arm around her. Alex was going to turn away, but he was interested, so he stayed.
"You look so hot in your pink mini skirt." He eyed her like a wolf to its prey.
"Thanks, baby. So where you takin' me tonight?" She puckered her red lips to make herself look hottter to him.
"It's a surprise. Just come over to my house."
"Can't you pick me up? My car's in the shop."
"Sorry, baby. I want to get the place ready for you. It's not that long of a walk. Just make sure you're there by nine."
"Okay, Kyle, I love you."
"You know how I feel about saying that."
"Sorry. See ya."
Alex couldn't believe his ears. She wouldn't give him the time of day, but she'd confess her love to some ungrateful Abercrombie-clad fool.
Alex did not want to go to work that night. He just wanted to walk behind Molly to make sure she was safe. He didn't want to be at the mat where snotty white people would boss him around.
He left his house at 8:30, and came to Molly's house just in time to see her walking out the door wearing that same pink miniskirt. She looked so trashy in it, but her legs were cute.
He kept a long distance behind her, so she wouldn't hear him. She was just in his vision. He could barely stand walking behind her as she flexed her thighs with each step in those three inch heels of hers. Her ass was going in and out in the most sexy way, even though she didn't know anyone was around to see her. It was like second nature to her.
