Never Say Never

Sitting inside the Harvard University library, Evan wondered for the thousandth time why the good Lord made him. Seriously. As a devout Christian, he never questioned the Will of Heaven. However, lately he'd become convinced that God sometimes made mistakes. And one of those mistakes was obviously Evan Blackstone. How else could he explain how he'd never once felt comfortable in his skin in his entire life? In spite of the library's warmth, he shuddered. For the thousandth time he wondered what was wrong with him. Of course, anyone looking at him would be hard pressed to figure out why he felt that way. Evan Blackstone stood six feet two inches tall, broad-shouldered and well-built, with light brown skin, curly Black hair and pale green eyes. The son of a Nigerian father and Irish-American mother. Born and raised in metropolitan Boston, Massachusetts.

Evan replayed the events of the previous night in his mind. His date with Lorna Odoms hadn't gone well. The tall, good-looking young Black woman he ran into on the Silver Line Train a month ago seemed promising at first but she turned out to be the latest in a long string of disastrous dates. For some reason, Evan Blackstone simply wasn't connecting with African-American women. He wondered why. Was it because of his biracial heritage? His mother Crystal Blackstone was a tall, blonde-haired and blue-eyed New England woman who fell in love with Nigerian immigrant Altimas Adewale at Boston University in the summer of 1984. A year later they were married. In the summer of 1987, Evan Blackstone came into the world. Six months after his birth his parents divorced. His mother married Japanese-American scholar Jeremiah Yamamoto three years later, and gave birth to his half-sister Miranda Yamamoto.

Jeremiah Yamamoto was the only father figure that Evan Blackstone knew because his biological father Altimas Adewale returned to his hometown of Lagos, Republic of Nigeria, after divorcing Crystal Blackstone. Growing up in a blended, multiracial family wasn't easy for Evan Blackstone. Even though his stepfather was a multimillionaire who doted on his stepson and considered him his own flesh and blood. Evan Blackstone grew up keenly aware of the fact that he was different. Attending Saint Antonius Academy in Boston's South End only exacerbated that fact for him. There were eleven hundred students at Saint Antonius Academy, and ninety six percent of them were of Irish, Dutch or Italian descent. Minority students at that school were Asian or Hispanic for the most part. The few African-American students at Saint Antonius Academy shunned Evan Blackstone because he 'talked and acted White'. In spite of his best efforts, Evan Blackstone could never fit in. The White students treated him like an outcast too. So he had few friends and focused on his grades. He sucked at contact sports, something Black male students supposedly excelled in at all levels of education. Nevertheless, he graduated valedictorian at Saint Antonius Academy. The first non-Caucasian valedictorian at the school in forty years and the first male valedictorian in eleven years. He made the cover of the Boston Globe newspaper for his efforts.

When Harvard University came calling, Evan Blackstone was thrilled. For Harvard University was the alma mater of Evan Blackstone's personal hero, the newly sworn in United States President Barack Hussein Obama. Evan Blackstone idolized Barack Obama. Both were born to African fathers and White mothers. Both grew up in mostly White areas. And both were outcasts among their so-called peers. Unfortunately, that's where the similarities ended. At Harvard University, Evan Blackstone tried hard to fit in with the few African-American men and women on campus. The sons and daughters of the African-American elite came to Harvard University from cities and towns across the United States. Some of them were biracial. Evan swore to himself that his life at Harvard University wouldn't be anything like his existence at Saint Antonius Academy. He focused on academia and did really well but also made time for the African American Student Association or A.A.S.A. He was drawn to the club's President, a tall and lovely young Black woman named Sholonda O'Shea.

Sholonda O'Shea was six feet tall and mighty fine, every bit the African-American goddess of Evan Blackstone's fevered dreams. And she came from a good family too. Her father James O'Shea was on the board of directors at Morehouse College in the City of Atlanta, Georgia. Her mother Annabelle Jacobson O'Shea was a Vice President of Recruitment at the Bank of America. The gal was sexy, well-spoken, and oozed both sensuality and intelligence. How could Evan Blackstone resist her? He befriended her, and they began hanging out. One day, he made his feelings known to her. And Sholonda O'Shea laughed in his face. Looking at him with cold amusement, the African-American princess of Harvard University's Black elite told him that she only dated White men. Evan Blackstone was stunned. Nevertheless, he was a gentleman so he told her that he respected her choices. And he did. She wasn't interested in him and as a man he had to respect that. That night, he went home feeling cold and numb. The next day, he couldn't look Sholonda O'Shea in the eyes. The cold mockery he saw in there was appalling. Why was she treating him this way?

Nevertheless, Evan Blackstone continued with his search for the Black woman of his dreams. For as long as he could remember, he felt drawn to beautiful Black women. It began with his crush on his teacher, Madison Albright, at Saint Antonius Academy. The tall, beautiful mathematics teacher was the wife of a Jamaican-born architect residing in Worcester, Massachusetts, but that didn't stop him from fantasizing about her during his final year at S.A.A. or Saint Antonius Academy. To him, Ms. Madison Albright represented everything that he desired. A tall, beautiful and obviously educated Black woman who loved Black men. Something that was becoming increasingly rare across the continent of North America these days. Not for the first time Evan Blackstone wondered if his lack of success with Black women came from him being shy, him being biracial or him being raised in a mostly White environment. Maybe the young Black women he met around the City of Boston could sense that he wasn't like other young Black men. From what he knew of the Black community of the United States of America, they weren't exactly tolerant of those they considered different.

Growing up in lily-White South Boston, Evan Blackstone was surrounded by affluent Italians, Irish and Dutch folks. They were friendly and remarkably tolerant toward gays, lesbians and bisexuals. Evan's few Black acquaintances and friends at both Saint Antonius Academy and Harvard University had a staunch dislike of queers. Evan had nothing against gay people. Other African-Americans despised them with a passion. The more Evan Blackstone learned about his fellow African-Americans, the more he realized that many of them were just as bigoted and intolerant as they often accused White people of being. Evan Blackstone decided to stop hanging out with the African-American Student Association of Harvard University when its President, Sholonda O'Shea spoke out against President Barack Obama's decision to repeal the don't ask and don't tell policies of the United States Military and allow gays, lesbians and bisexuals to serve openly in the armed forces. To Evan, the President's decision only made sense. Although a staunch heterosexual, Evan had nothing against gays. Some of the best students he knew in both high school and university were queers. They had a lot to contribute to society at all levels. Evan Blackstone publicly spoke up against the Black Student Association's anti-gay policies, and earned the respect of Harvard University's GLBT students for his stance for equality.

The President of the GLBT Association of Harvard University approached Evan Blackstone to congratulate him. Terrence McLean, the GLBT President was a short and chubby, red-haired White guy with green eyes and freckles. And he walked with a six-foot-one, blonde-haired and green-eyed young woman who reminded Evan Blackstone of United States Women's Soccer Team Captain Hope Solo, the only White woman he ever lusted after. Evan Blackstone shook hands with McLean and told him that he believed in equality and tolerance instead of bigotry. He also told him that he was walking away from the African American Student Association of Harvard University because of their bigotry. Terrence smiled at Evan and told him he respected him for having a spine. Evan looked at the tall, silent blonde young woman who stood nearby. Hovering as if she was Terrence's bodyguard. Terrence followed Evan's gaze and smiled before introducing the blonde woman. Evan Blackstone smiled as he shook hands with Rachel Denton, Terrence's cousin. And the Captain of the Harvard University Women's Varsity Wrestling Club.

Evan Blackstone looked at Rachel Denton, and felt himself blush. There was something in Rachel's beautiful steely green eyes. Something that made him quiver inside. He smiled politely, then extricated his hand from her crushing grip. Terrence invited him to join them for dinner and Evan acquiesced happily. He wasn't doing anything really. His homework was done. He didn't feel like biking around Boston Common today or going to the Loews movie theater downtown. Nope, he had nothing to do. So he agreed to go chill with Terrence and Rachel. Ever since his first semester at Harvard University started, he told himself he needed to avoid those he considered the 'blue bloods'. The sons and daughters of wealthy Caucasian families from all over New England. They came from moneyed places like Milton, Massachusetts, and Hartford, Connecticut. They were the guys and gals he grew up with, but who never fully accepted him because he was part Black. He told himself he needed to only hang out with Black students in order to feel like he belonged. Well, since most African-American female students he met were cold, mean and downright hostile toward Black men and most African-American male students were egocentric, homophobic and loud, he couldn't stand to be around them anymore. He needed new friends.

That night, he had a lot of fun with Rachel and Terrence. As it turns out, Rachel was really laid back and relaxed when you get to know her. Evan found her intimidating at first with her height, steely eyes and crushing grip. She was really funny and playful, annoying her more straight-laced cousin Terrence with farting jokes. Terrence got wasted ( typical Irishman with his beer) and Evan had to help Rachel get him back to his dorm. The short gay dude was surprisingly heavy. The three of them got in a cab and went back to Harvard. At the end of the night, Evan shook Rachel's hand and told her goodnight. Playfully, she batted his hand away and asked him for his digits after whipping out her Blackberry. Evan smiled and told her his number. Six one seven. Eight nine seven. Plus another four random numbers assigned to him by his cellphone carrier. He was barely ten steps from the door when Rachel sent him a text wishing him goodnight and asking him to check his Facebook once he got home. Evan smiled to himself and did just that.

That night, Evan Blackstone couldn't sleep. He spent most of the night thinking about Rachel. The seriously sexy cousin of his new gay friend Terrence. His mind race with questions and possibilities. Did she have a boyfriend? Was she into men? Did she like Black guys, or half-Black guys for that matter? So many questions, so little time. He added her on Facebook and browsed through her profile. The gal had about two hundred pictures. Shots of her wrestling matches at Milton Academy. Images of her playing basketball with friends. At the beach with family. Walking through the park with her Doberman. Kissing a tall, Hispanic-looking guy in a tuxedo. Hmm. It was a prom picture. Dated 2008. Three years ago. Okay. So she liked minority men. Did she only like Hispanic guys or might she be into Black men as well? Only time would tell. Evan Blackstone went to sleep with a smile on his face for the first time in ages.

The next time Evan Blackstone ran into Rachel Denton, the tall and sexy young Irishwoman was coming out of the field house, freshly showered and looking good in a blue T-shirt and red sweatpants. And he noticed that she was packing more booty than most sisters he knew but abstained from staring. He asked her if she wanted to go to Loews theater on Boston Common to catch a flick and she smiled. Anything to ditch class, she said. To his amazement, she went with him dressed exactly the way she came out of the gym. Wow. Oh, well. He wasn't one to complain. He did offer her his black leather jacket before they took the Green Line train downtown, though. He had a hooded sweatshirt featuring Cornell West on it, so he ought to be fine in the fall weather. They went to see Immortals, and it absolutely rocked. Evan was delighted to hear how much Rachel knew about ancient Greek mythology. He was a big fan of the TV series Hercules and Xena growing up. Well, Rachel turned out to be a bigger geek than him. Apparently, she had a Xena battle dress at home, complete with a Chakram. Wow.

After the movie, they walked through Boston Common and made their way to Copley Square. They grabbed a bite inside the Copley Mall food court. Over dinner, Evan got to know Rachel a little better. The gal was quite fascinating. How many young women could boast of having been captain of an all-male wrestling squad in high school and also valedictorian? Evan found himself increasingly fascinated by her. However, he kept his feelings in check. In his experience with beautiful young women, they seldom seemed interested in decent-looking, bookish guys like him. Surely a gal like Rachel Denton had a boyfriend. Probably some football player, a male model or the prince of some rich New England family. Halfway through dinner, Rachel looked him in the eye and asked him if he had a girlfriend. Evan took a deep breath, exhaled and said no. Rachel smiled and touched his hand. She looked him straight in the eyes and told him he had a girlfriend NOW. Evan smiled. How could he argue with that? He looked at her, his eyes full of hope for the first time in ages. Rachel smiled at him and nodded. In an uncharacteristically bold move, Evan leaned closer, until his face was inches from hers. Rachel smiled, and gently kissed him on the lips.

Evan Blackstone and Rachel Denton walked out of the Copley Mall food court arm in arm. Everywhere they went, people stared. Now, the crowd of shoppers inside Copley Mall was quite diverse, fully respecting the city's racial demographics in spite of the fact that the place was fairly upscale. Yet everybody gawked at the young couple. The tall Black man holding hands with an equally tall, blonde-haired White woman. The sort of image that is striking, no matter who happens to be looking. And look they did. A tall older White man walking around with an Asian lady scowled at them. As did a portly Black woman holding hands with a wiry Hispanic male. If Evan and Rachel noticed the stares, they certainly didn't let on. They smiled at each other as they made their way out of Copley and began the long walk back to Harvard Square. It was a nice Fall day in New England. Not too cold and not too windy. Definitely the right time for a nice walk. Evan took Rachel's hand in his and proudly kissed it. Rachel giggled in delight, and playfully pinched him in the shoulder. Grinning, the happy couple hit the road.