The Violin

***

Keith's father referred to the Evanses as those rich niggers, which infuriated Keith, but reflected the attitude of most of Millville toward them: suspicious, hostile and more than a little envious. Keith knew why, because he felt it every time he rang Kendra's doorbell: the Evanses, in every way that counted, were simply, glaringly better than the rest of them. It was like the Cosbys moved to Hazard County.

"Morning, Mr. Evans."

"Keith. Come in," Robert Evans stepped aside to allow Keith into the huge foyer. The living room was all white: white walls, white carpet, white Italian leather seatees. It provided a clean backdrop for a dynamic art collection that impressed and cowed the viewer all at once. Even when the weather was sunny and dry as a bone, Keith always felt like he'd tracked in mud on the immaculate rug.

"So, Kendra tells me you got accepted to State."

"Yessir, we'll be freshmen together."

"Oh, I don't know about that quite yet," Mr. Evans replied. "I'm still trying to convince her to go Black Ivy, Spelman or Howard."

Keith gave a neutral shrug. "She can get into any school in the world," he said.

"Yes, that's what I've been telling her! The opportunities are endless, if you forge relationships with the right people during your formative years."

Mr. Evans's emphasis on "the right people" stung a bit; Keith highly doubted that, in her dad's mind, he qualified.

Just then, Kendra appeared at the top of the stairs wearing white shorts. Step by step, more of her sculpted legs came into view. A long waist led up to high, round C-cups, angelic dimples, and twin Mickey Mouse afro puffs. Idiots at school called her hair nappy, but he thought of it as fizzy. Shiny little curls swirling upwards in the air like bubbles of Coca-Cola. A wolfish grin spread across his face.

"Kendra! Those bottoms are too short—get right back up to your room and change now!" her dad barked.

"Dad! I'm running late as it is!"

"What did I say?"

Without further protest, Kendra turned around and stomped back upstairs. Keith watched her plump behind bounce away, then jumped when he realized Mr. Evans was glaring at him.

"Yessir?"

"Since you're already here, Kendra will ride with you to school today. But Keith, don't trouble yourself tomorrow. In fact, I'll be driving her for the remainder of the school year."

Keith's mind spun. They couldn't ride together anymore? "I don't mind, sir. It's nice to have some intelligent conversation to start the day."

"My thoughts exactly. I'd like a little early time with my daughter."

Just then, Kendra was back at the stairs in boyfriend jeans and a loose-necked orange tank top. She approached them and did a half-turn.

"Better, Father?" It was as sarcastic as she dared get.

"That top's a little low-cut, but I guess you pass muster. See you tonight, kiddo." The father hugged his daughter with genuine affection and kissed her forehead, then watched from the door as they piled into Keith's old Ford.

Maria hugged her husband from behind, pleasantly surprising him. At 5"3', she was shorter and thicker than her daughter, but definitely where Kendra got her stacked figure. After 20 years of marriage, one look at his wife could still get his heart racing.

"I thought you were burning through some last-minute work in the office," he said, turning to kiss her.

"I was, but I overheard your conversation with Keith. What's this about you taking Kendra to school in the mornings? I thought that was our alone time."

"When you're home, it is," he teased. "But I had to. I don't like the way that boy looks at my daughter."

Her laugh was low and warm, like whiskey and honey. "Kendra's a beautiful young lady. Even out here in the wild, boys are going to notice."

"White boys," Marvin Evans grumbled. "They don't have a record of the most self-control around our women."

"Is that what you're concerned about? Keith is Kendra's best friend! And he's a nice boy, in spite of his family. You make him sound like some kind of rapist!"

"I don't put anything past these folks. Yes, I know!" He held up a hand to silence her. "He's a smart kid and respectful and all of that. But I was 18 once too, and I know what he's thinking when he looks at my baby girl. I can't wait for Kendra to go off to school, in part just to get her away from his narrow behind."

He paused, wanting to erase the disagreeable look on his wife's pretty face. "I don't want to talk about that. How about a little 'alone time' right now?"

He kicked the front door closed with his foot, his wife's giggle music to his ears.

Kendra snuck sidelong glances at Keith as he drove. He wore his daily uniform: black t-shirt, jeans and beat-up boots. His hair curled past the collar of the trench coat he wore even in summer. A sprinkling of stubble in his true blondish-brown shade gave him a devil-may-care look. She wanted to touch it. Instead,

"You are so pale. I think you're allergic to sunshine."

"What can I say? Us poor devils had to hide in caves, cursed by the sun."

Kendra busted out laughing. "I should've never let you read my dad's Final Call!"

Keith laughed too. "It changed my life! Nobody knocks the Minister in my ride! Seriously, some of the Nation's beliefs make sense. Women are supposed to serve the man, the natural head. You should be more submissive."

"What makes you think I'm not?"

Her mischievous tone put all sorts of thoughts in his head. Keith gazed over at her and realized her dad was right; that top was too low-cut. Her perky tits peeked out of the wide, deep neckline alluringly.

"Keep talking like that and we're gonna be REAL late to school," he warned.

"Whatever," she thumped him. "How was Ronald this morning?"

Keith grimaced at his father's name. "Satanic hangover. Nothing a couple breakfast beers can't fix."

She stroked the back of his hair, and he resisted the urge to close his eyes and savor it. "I hope his head explodes," she said. "I can't wait till we graduate and get out of there. I'd have called protective services a long time ago if it didn't mean I'd never see you again."

"Selfish."

"I know." Kendra raised up on her knees in the front seat, leaning her torso out of the window. "Don't tell anyone," she announced, hooking her thumbs into the belt loops on her jeans. She tugged them down her hips, revealing the tiny white shorts.

"Damn," Keith hissed, watching her ass rock from side to side. "You're not going to be able to pull these shenanigans when your dad starts taking you to school."

"What are you talking about? You're quitting as my chauffeur?"

"Getting fired. That's what Robert said this morning." Keith tried to keep the disappointment from his voice as they pulled into the school lot. "He wants more time to convince you of the benefits of hanging around the right people. I don't meet the criteria."

"You've got plenty of company. Dad doesn't think anyone from Millville is good enough."

Keith walked Kendra to gym, one of the few classes they didn't share. Among the snob, nerd, jock, sheep and country bumpkin cliques, the Afrocentric overachiever and the metal-head burnout made a strange couple, but they no longer drew strange looks. Before they parted ways, Kendra grabbed Keith's hand.

"I'm going to the library after school. Think you can give me a ride home?"

"Sure. You working on a project?"

"Not really. I just don't want to go straight home tonight."

"Me neither. It'll be our last day of riding together," he said, hoping his face wasn't as flushed as it felt. "We should have a little party."

"Okay," she said. "Where?"

Keith bit his lip to stop smiling. "Let me surprise you."

In the rowdy locker room, groups of girls talked loudly in varying stages of dress. Few were louder than Amber, whose locker was directly across from Kendra's. The redhead's breasts bobbed freely as she regaled a group of followers and anyone in earshot with details of a party she'd been to over the weekend.

"So anyway, we were all drunk off our asses on Fireball when Tricia starts naming off the biggest dicks in our class. Chet got mad he didn't make the cut, and he bet $20 he could beat any guy there. He was doing pretty good till he got to Everett. Keith whipped his out, and that sucker had to be ten inches."

Kendra's ears perked up at Keith's name, and Amber noticed the change in posture. She shot a snide look across the aisle.

"Don't take my word for it, ask Kendra," she sneered. "She's used to taking that monster cock."

"You mad, Amber?" Kendra smiled sunnily as she dressed. "If you ask nice, maybe he'll let you clean it off when I'm done."

She slammed her locker shut and hurried out before she could fully hear the girl's reply, which sent peals of laughter pelting her back.

Today's activity was volleyball, and she welcomed the chance to let off some pent-up aggression. Kendra played varsity, and her teammate Karen was in rotation next to her.

"Don't listen to Amber. She's just being a witch," Karen said.

Kendra stared straight ahead. Karen wanted to be cool when no one else was around, but she never stood up when Kendra was being bullied.

Karen wouldn't shut up. "I mean, nobody really thinks you and Keith're dating. Are you?"

"It's nobody's business if we are," Kendra returned.

"I'm just saying, you always walk together, and he drives you around all the time. And he's a wreck, but he's hot. How is it?" Karen leaned in to whisper. "I hear he's a beast in bed!"

Kendra set her mouth in a hard line and took a large, deliberate step away from Karen. She put her full focus on the game, jamming the ball repeatedly over the net. She thrilled each time the volleyball busted Amber or one of her friends in the chest or thigh, but any of the white girls on the opposing side would do. Their curses and screams eventually drew a sharp whistle from Coach Kresge.

"Hey Evans, lighten up on the return," Kresge called. "Good hustle, but this isn't an away game."

But Kendra didn't stop. Her arm was like a cannon, her feet pounded as she snatched shots from the less aggressive girls. Even her teammates gave her wide berth, and after a vicious shot to a girl's face she got pulled from the game.

"I don't know what's gotten into you, Evans, but whatever it is, I don't want to see it again," the middle-aged teacher said sternly. Kendra watched the bleached hairs on Kresge's upper lip tremble as she talked. She was pretty sure Coach was a lesbian.

"Pull another stunt like today and that's an automatic detention. For now, hit the showers. You can spend the rest of the period in the principal's office."

On her way there, Kendra tried to figure out why Amber and Karen's comments pissed her off so badly. She was as mad at herself as at them. Why hadn't she shut the rumors down? Was she embarrassed about being a virgin? Did she want the girls to think she and Keith were fucking? Why?

She and Keith were strictly platonic, but of course she thought about his body. He was the only man she'd seen undressed, and his pathetic father couldn't keep the heat bill paid so Keith chopped wood all winter. Those hours of hard labor had paid off something fierce.

She would never tell Keith how many furious finger-fuck sessions their photo shoots inspired, or about the dream when she woke up hot and bothered, a soaked pillow between her legs. She knew he wanted her. But she also knew it would be World War III if her parents found out.

Her parents had instilled her with a sense of racial superiority: based on history, genetics, culture, and morality, she felt on a gut level that black people were simply better than whites. But Keith was another story. White or not, his lanky body and dry sarcasm did it for her in a way no other boy had, and she wanted to see where it would go.