"Nothing," was the response I got, but I knew there was something strange. His voice was low and quiet like he was trying to hide something and was afraid to reveal it. Well, probably there wasn't anything wrong and he was just tired. I'm always over reacting. It's probably nothing.
"Are you sure?" I asked just to make sure, you know.
"Yeah, trust me," he seemed annoyed now, so I believed him. For the moment at least.
The rest of the day was just like any other. But every time I thought of Dave, I got this indescribable feeling in the pit of my heart. It hurt. I hoped he was okay. I was worried though, he just didn't seem right.
When I got home, I turned on the radio and got started on my homework. I was halfway through French homework when the phone rang. I knew it was Dave. Other people don't really call that often, but he calls everyday. I'm glad he calls, it gives me something to do.
He still sounded weird so there definitely was something wrong, so I asked again, "Are you ok?"
"Not really," he replied. Good, I knew I would get it out of him sooner or later. Then the feeling crawled up again. That same pounding and uncertainty in the pit of my heart.
"Do you want to tell me?" I asked not even sure I really wanted to know. Well, I had to know because it was bothering him, but I knew it was bad so I kinda didn't want to know.
"No, not really." Oh, even worse if he didn't want to say it, but I knew he would. "Well, when I got to school today, there was a note in my locker. It said, "Dump that chink."
"What does chink mean?" I must have sounded to stupid when I said that, but I've never heard it before. Maybe I'll check the dictionary when I get off the phone.
"It's a, ah… umm, a racial term."
"Oh," was all I could muster up. I had nothing to say because there wasn't anything to say. One by one the salty tears started to fall, then it got worse and I started to sound like a baby. I tried to take deep breaths, but only shaky breaths came, and with that, more tears poured. Thoughts piled up my head. I was afraid someone wanted to physically hurt me, and even worse, I blamed myself for being so naïve. I seriously didn't think people still had prejudices. Those cruel, malicious, hateful words, I didn't understand it, not at all.
About a week later, a Friday, and February 14th, I was so psyched because it was the weekend! I had made plans with Dave to do something, obviously, because it was a special weekend. I had already put my present in his locker for him, and I was anticipating receiving mine. He came to my locker before the first bell, and handed me a little box. Inside was a silver ring, the most beautiful one I had ever seen.
Little did I know I would receive another present that day. Before lunch he was at my locker with another sheet of paper, this one stating, "Dump that chink or die." Scratchy handwriting again, in pencil again, looked like it was written on the wall again, lined paper again, and stuffed into his locker again, but no tears. At least not on my face. My head really started to hurt, though, the tears probably all stayed up there.
If I think about it, yeah, I learned something, and I'm pretty glad I did. Maybe I was over reacting. Then again, maybe not. I sure it won't happen again. I think that person who ever it may be is happy now, because we're not even going out anymore. But let's not get into it, that's just a whole another story. I'll tell you about it later, if you really want to hear about it.