Disclaimers: Anyone and everyone partaking in sexual stuff is 18, or older. This story is pure fiction. Also, some might just think of this as a story about racial tolerance. If you are looking for instant sex, look elsewhere.
My name is Ronald Johnson. I'm nearing my 35th birthday, and will be celebrating with my wife of ten years, Valerie, and our three kids. This in itself is somewhat of a miracle.
I think I need to enlighten my readers. My parents, Reginald and Victoria Johnson raised me to treat all races equally. My dad is African/American, and my mom is half Native American and half African/American. So, you can tell I'm 1/4 Native and 3/4 African.
My dad was one of this country's best wide receivers in his era. In college, he was considered a 'can't miss' in the NFL. That was right up until he tore every ligament in his left knee, his Junior season.
With football no longer an option for him, it nearly killed him. It took nearly two full years to get back into college to complete his degree. If he hadn't gone back he would have never met the shy, mixed race girl, who became his wife, and my mother.
Meeting in college, they dated the entire two years it took for him to compete his courses to become a high school English teacher. While he started teaching, my mother completed her degree to teach business and finance.
It took them nearly ten years to finally get pregnant, and, voila, nine months later, I appeared in their lives. From the time I could sit up, dad had a book in my hands. Picture books. Books that either he or mom would read to me. Books about each and every subject, imaginable.
I inhaled every book put on front of me. By my third birthday, I knew my alphabet, and could make out words in some of my books.
By the time I started high school, I was already two grades ahead of my peers. I graduated high school at 15, and started at the University of Washington. One bad thing about going to high school so young was, even at 6'1" and just about 180, or so, I wasn't allowed to play football, because of my age. By the time I was old enough, I was on my way to college.
Once at the U, I had to decide what I wanted to major in. I was fairly sure I wanted to be a doctor, as math and science were favorite subjects of mine. Also, I was always fascinated hearing dad tell about the doctors who put his knee back together, allowing him to walk, again.
Chewing through my classes, it was evident I would finish in three years. Now, all I had to do was convince the School of Medicine to admit me, at 18 years of age.
During my final year, in college, I began tutoring some students in math. Mostly 100 level classes, and some 200 levels. There were two girls, both seniors, who asked if I would tutor them, together, as they were taking the same 200 level math class, and both struggling.
These girls were as different as night and day. Francine Garrison was tall, thin and blond. Valerie Harris, was shorter, heavier, and a brunette. The only thing they had in common, was the fact that their fathers were business partners, and very well to do.
Francine told me that her father had to meet me, to see if he would OK me to tutor his only daughter.
When I arrived at his house, I knew the family was loaded. They lived in a gated community, and when the security guard looked at me, I thought he wasn't going to let me in.
When I got to the front door, it was opened by Mrs. Garrison, who looked more than a bit shocked, to see a black kid at her door. When I told her who I was, she had me wait in the entryway, and went to get Mr. Garrison.
The first words out of his mouth were, "sorry you came out here, but you're not tutoring my daughter!"
"Sir, is it because I'm black?"
"You said that, I didn't."
"Wow, I can't believe in this day and age, you won't allow a 4.0 student, graduating college before his 19th birthday, and getting into Medical School, to tutor your daughter because I'm black!"
I turned, and walked back to my car. I certainly didn't need a racist father telling me I'd never tutor his daughter.
The next afternoon, when I thought I would have two students to teach, only Valerie showed up. She told me Mr. Garrison called her father yelling that no 'Jig' was going to teach his daughter. I couldn't believe a man in this day and age still used the racist term 'jigaboo' even in its shortened term.
She looked at me and told me her dad wasn't quite that upset, but let her know he wasn't too happy. Just as I was going to respond, I saw Francine approaching, and asking Valerie to come with her.
"Frannie, I need to pass this class, even if you don't."
They both moved away from me, whispering. I could imagine what they were saying, so I got up and started to leave.
When Val called out to me, and Frannie tried to stop her, I just turned, smiled, and told them to have a good time with their class. I did hear Val telling her pal she just ruined her chance to graduate, on time.
That afternoon, as I was at the library after my last class, I heard a soft, "can I talk to you, Ronald?" It was Valerie.
"I'd really like some help with this class, please."
"Do I have to earn your father's approval?"
"Absolutely not. I told him all about you and how you were going to Med School. I also told him that you weren't even old enough to go to any bar for a drink."
I noticed a grin when she remarked about my age.
"Are you asking me out for a drink," I quietly said.
Grinning, she just said, we'll see, and left, giving me a phone number to contact her about studying.
As I began tutoring Val, we would notice Frannie walking by, trying to look indifferent, but not succeeding. I had to ask myself if she was wanting to date me, even with her racist dad lurking in the shadows.
For the last two months of the term, I did manage to help Valerie pass her class, and graduate with a degree in history. At the time, I wondered if she went to college to find a husband, or just to please her family.
Oh, by the way, Francine failed the class, didn't get her degree, but found a husband. Some guy with a family nearly as rich as hers.
On to Medical school.
My first year, I was so busy learning the myriad of information, needed, I barely had a social life. I did, however find a lab partner who needed some help, who was more than happy to relieve me of my virginity. It just so happened, she was one of the few other black students in our group.
We both knew, that even before she dropped out of med school, to teach high school chemistry, we weren't ever going any further than the three or four hook ups we had.
My second year of med school was flying by, with our taking different rotations in the University Hospital, and at the largest hospital in the entire state, with the only level one trauma center in four states, learning what it was like becoming a doctor.
Once, or twice, I noticed Valerie at the hospital, taking an older relative to an appointment. Each time, we would just have time for a word, or two, and she always wished me well. Each time I would notice that there wasn't a ring on her finger, so I kept thinking, do I have the nerve to ask her for a date. I also kept wondering if I had the time to date.
