After a grueling way of training and classes at the Massachusetts Maritime Academy in Buzzards Bay, Massachusetts, Meisa Ozawa was definitely looking forward to getting some rest. For once, things were quiet on Taylor's Point, seat of the foremost military academy in New England. Looking at the small seaside town, and the beautiful ocean that surrounded it, Meisa finally felt at peace.
The town of Buzzards Bay, Massachusetts, strangely enough, reminded Meisa of her hometown of Yakushima, one of the Osumi islands in the Kagoshima Prefecture of Japan. Growing up surrounded by the ocean, Meisa absolutely loved the water. From early on, Meisa knew that she wanted a career that combined her love of the water and her family's passion for military service. After all, her parents Takuma and Hana Ozawa met while serving in the Japan Maritime Self-Defence Force.
This is one of many reasons why, after moving to the United States, Meisa decided to study in someplace which felt like home. The Massachusetts Maritime Academy had become home away from home, after a fashion. Of course, there were kinks to be worked out. In today's America, with tension between different ethnic groups, and a sharp rise in nationalism and anti-immigrant sentiment, Meisa knew that she had to walk a fine line as an international student from Japan.
"Here comes tiny mama," came a masculine voice, snatching Meisa Ozawa out of her little trip down memory lane. Meisa, who'd been sitting on a plain steel chair by the waterfront, removed her glasses and closed her eyes, hard. Here comes David only unlike the Biblical one he's here to torment rather than save, Meisa thought as David Montrose came closer, and totally got in her personal space, as usual. Pestering fellow cadets, especially her, seemed to be part and parcel of David's daily routine...
"David, dude, come on, I'm dead serious, don't poke my nose," Meisa Ozawa said angrily, glaring at the annoying dude who simply didn't know when to quit. David Montrose, the annoying dude in question, smiled and then let his index finger hover an inch from Meisa's nose, smirking while smugly holding the infuriated young Japanese woman's gaze.
"What are you going to do about it, little lady?" David asked, and he licked his lips while looking Meisa up and down. Standing six feet two inches tall, broad-shouldered, muscular, and ruggedly handsome, the chocolate-hued, curly-haired stud was used to getting his way. Around David, men and women either did what he said, bent to his will, or they lived long enough to regret the error of their ways...
Stay calm, Meisa silently reminded herself. The petite young Asian woman took a deep breath, remembering her father's words. When someone initiates hostility and underestimates you, it is your duty to always make them pay dearly, Meisa's father Takuma Ozawa told her on many occasions. Smiling beatifically at her erstwhile tormentor, Meisa did something completely unexpected...
"Show you the error of your ways," Meisa said as she snatched her water bottle from the sand, and swiftly shoved it at David's crotch, stopping a mere inch from her target. David looked down and saw the gravity of his situation, and that's when his face fell. Taking a deep breath, David flashed Meisa a nervous smile, and raised his hands in surrender.
"Easy there, Meisa, I was just joking," David replied, and Meisa cocked an eyebrow, watching the smirk and the cocksure look evaporate from his face. David was handsome, that much Meisa could admit, but his egotistical ways and blatant disregard for boundaries made him something of a pest. Everyone in the Regiment of Cadets at Mass Maritime Academy seemed to think so.
"David, you always tease me, and hassle me, I'm a hair away from telling the Dean of Students about you," Meisa said angrily, scoffing at his half-baked apology. David nodded, and for once, he did not smile or smirk in any way. Instead, the towering, brawny young African American cadet sat on the sand right next to her, and fell silent, looking at her intently.
"Meisa, I'm sorry, I'm a dick sometimes, and I don't even know why I do it," David said earnestly, and Meisa looked at him, surprised by his apparent candor. She was still suspicious of his words and motives, but his apparent honesty was definitely a surprise. Maybe David isn't a complete douchebag, Meisa thought, still hesitant to give him the time of day.
"Well, David, I'm not your psychologist or your conscience, I just want you to keep your distance, thank you very much,"Meisa retorted, unwilling to buy David's load of fake remorse bullshit. With that, she got up and walked away, without bothering to wait for his reply. Kiss my ass you sorry excuse for a human being, Meisa thought as she headed back to her place.
"Hmm, what an ass, I have got to get back on Meisa's good side, oops, I was never there," David said to himself, chuckling softly. He watched Meisa as she walked away until she turned a corner around a school building and vanished from his point of view. The short, curvy Japanese gal had one hell of an ass on her, and he definitely wanted some of that.
David Montrose, the so-called "urban prince" of the Massachusetts Maritime Academy came from a rather rough background. His parents came from different worlds, to say the least. His father Jerome Montrose hailed from the island of Jamaica, and moved to the City of Randolph, Massachusetts, for work in the early 1990s. Jerome Montrose felt like a fish out of water in New England, until fate changed everything...
While working as a bricklayer in Brockton, Jerome Montrose met the love of his life, Roberta Fay McConnell, a newcomer to New England by way of Belfast, Ireland. Sparks flew between the mismatched pair. Jerome became a regular at The Parthenon, the famous Randolph restaurant where Roberta happened to work as a waitress. They fell in love, and ended up getting married. A son was born to them, David Montrose. They still live in Randolph to this day...
Growing up as a young biracial man in southeastern Massachusetts, David Montrose learned early on that the world was a harsh, unforgiving place. He saw the way folks in his otherwise quaint hometown looked at his Irish-American mother and Jamaican-American father. Sometimes, people hurled slurs at them while driving past them on the street. Racism was alive and well in the United States of America, even in liberal New England.