I think that love and friendship really shouldn’t mix. Seriously. It doesn’t matter if you’re a man or woman, black or white, straight or gay. If you are friends with someone and madly in love with them at the same time, you’re going to end up doing or saying something really dumb. You might succumb to the urge to tell this special man or woman how you feel and it might prove disastrous for your relationship. How else would you explain what almost happened between me and my friend the other night?
The name is Sarah Wesson, and I am a student at Quincy college, somewhere in Massachusetts. I am studying to become a nurse. This year, the nursing program was surprised by an influx of male students. Of the five hundred students of the nursing program, two hundred and ten were male. Nursing isn’t a popular career with men, unlike Engineering, Criminal Justice and Law. Many of the girls were surprised and some felt that men were entering their territory but I for one was glad. I’m surrounded by females all day and we can get pretty catty. Having some men around was a breath of fresh air in my opinion.
In my Anatomy Class, there were twenty students. Nine of them were males. For the first time in ages, I saw hunks strolling around in their uniforms. I was getting distracted all the time by bulging muscles, hunky bodies, sexy smiles and hairy chests. One of the men I noticed was Marcus Brock. Marcus was around six feet two inches tall, good-looking black male with chestnut-brown skin and curly hair. His eyes were a pale gray color. He was simply sexy. A lot of the girls on campus were flirting with him left and right. Marcus was always polite and friendly but kept his distance from most of them. I didn’t get it. This guy was tall and handsome. Females flocked to him like birds. So why was he single?
I once heard my classmate ( and sometime nemesis) Melanie Lorne complain to one of her girlfriends about the lack of interest Marcus showed in girls. Melanie was one of those good-looking black girls who lived it up as man-catchers. With her six-foot, busty, big-booty, brown-skinned form, Melanie attracted a lot of men and she could have her pick of them. I hated her. I’m five-foot-nine, white, with short black hair and pale brown eyes. I’m sort of round in shape but fortunately, I’ve got some junk in the trunk. Maybe that’s why Melanie hated me so much. For whatever the reason, Marcus had turned her down. I smiled at that. This guy wasn’t just smart and cute, he had enough taste to turn down a hood rat like Melanie! Yeah!
The semester went on. I asked around about Marcus Brock. He was originally from Brockton high school and had graduated last year. He used to play football and basketball at that school. He had a double major, Nursing and Criminal Justice. He was smart as a whip and definitely going places in this life. I decided to approach him and see for myself. I spotted Marcus in the campus library one time, reading a large book. I stood a short distance away, looking at him. The dude looked seriously cute. For the thousandth time, I felt nervous. I’m not very good at approaching cute guys.
Oh, I’m cool with guys in general, just not romantically. I was raised by a father who was a police captain and had three sons and one daughter. I liked sports and action movies. Yeah, I was quite the tomboy and I could be one of the guys when I wanted to be. In fact, I got along with men better than I did with women. But put me in front of a cute guy and I get weak in the knees and start acting like a classic geek. Oh, yeah, and at the age of twenty three, I’ve still got braces. You can understand my fears.
The last time I approached a guy was in the twelfth grade. I had a crush on Joshua Morris, captain of the wrestling team and a three-times state champion. He was such a stud. His sister Jessica was on the team too and she was a friend of mine. I had such a crush on him. For years, we were friends. He was the athletic stud and I was the quirky tomboy he hung out with. I was a part of the group of cute athletic boys he ran around with. I never had the guts to tell him how I felt. When I tried to ask him out, Melanie Lorne beat me to it. Can you believe that? yeah, I’ve got no luck when it comes to romance. I ended up losing my virginity to a forty-year-old widowed fireman I met at a bar at the age of twenty two. It’s my one and only sexual encounter. I haven’t seen him since.
In spite of my fears, I gathered up my courage and walked toward Marcus. He was alone, which was good. If any girls or boys had been around, I would have felt insecure. I was quite close to him when I noticed the words on the book he was reading. Something about gay and bisexual men in America. My eyebrows were raised. What in hell was he doing reading about gay people? I’m not a homophobe or anything. My best friend Andrew is an openly gay poet and fellow nurse. I was wondering what to do. Turn around and leave or stay and talk to him? I did the latter. I greeted him. Marcus looked up and saw me. He smiled.
I looked at that dreamy smile of his and asked him if I could sit down. Marcus nodded. I asked him what he was reading and he shrugged and said that it was nothing. He placed the book back in his backpack and we started talking. We talked about class and stuff like that. Then, Marcus excused himself and told me that he had to go to a football game. Braintree high school was playing against Brockton. Even though he had graduated a year earlier, he was still very much a fan of his old school. I took a chance and told him that I was a football fan and wanted to come along, if he’d have me. Marcus hesitated. I flashed him my friendliest smile and told him that I didn’t bite. He grinned and we were on our way.
We took the train from Quincy Center to Brockton. Marcus sat across from me. He looked really good up close. He was telling how excited he was to be headed back to Marciano Stadium again. Apparently, he played many football games there. I smiled at that. I had gone to many football games to see my brothers play. Sometimes, I played ball with my brothers and their guy friends in our backyard. Those were fun days. I told this to Marcus. He was surprised. Who knew that the plump chick from the nursing program was a football fan? Certainly not him. We talked about the Patriots and their chances of winning in 2007. Before we knew it, we were there. It was a short trip.
Although Quincy wasn’t far from Brockton, I had never been to what Marcus proudly referred to as the City of Champions. I had heard horror stories about Brockton. Gangsters shooting people. Murders. Robberies. Crooked cops. Racial Profiling. All kinds of bad things. Yet Marcus was looking at his hometown like it was Nirvana. We hopped on the Bat Bus once in Brockton and headed to the high school. Marcus was going on and on about the Brockton Boxers football team and their legendary coach. I smiled at that. Men love football, and beer. Well, so did I, on both counts. The bus dropped us near Shaw’s Market and from there, Marcus led me to the stadium.
We climbed up to find seats on the posts. There were a lot of people there. I guess Brockton folks take sports very seriously. We sat down. Marcus shook hands with a couple of good-looking young black couple. Apparently, they were old buddies of his. He introduced me to a tall, muscular and caramel-skinned man named Jamal Michaels and Raylene Harris, a jet-black girl with hair dyed red. Both of them were students at UMass-Boston. I shook hands with them. Marcus told them about his studies at Quincy College and Raylene laughed when he told them about being enrolled in the nursing program. Marcus seemed bothered by it for a moment, then tried to shrug it off in a manly way. I came to his defense. I looked Raylene in the eyes and told her that I admired Marcus for studying the art of healing. She should be encouraging him rather than put him down. Hell, if more people learned to heal rather than kill, the world would be a better place.
Marcus looked at me, surprised. Raylene’s eyes went wide and she looked me up and down. Jamal was smirking. Raylene said something crude and took off. Jamal smiled at me and nodded. A short distance away, Raylene called him out. He shook hands with Marcus, then followed her. I noticed he took his sweet time, making her wait as they went looking for seats. I turned and looked at Marcus. He smiled. I gently touched his arm, and smiled. No way was I going to let a tramp like Raylene put down a fine-looking man like Marcus. That just wouldn’t be me.
We watched the football game. Brockton creamed Braintree in record time. The score was twenty to fourteen when the game ended. The crowd went wild in the stadium. Men and women from Brockton cheered as their home team ran victoriously through the stadium. Marcus was cheering louder than most of them. I joined him, showing him and everyone else just how loud I could be. At some point, he turned around and saw me yelling and cheering for Brockton. He looked at me, smiled and shook his head. I winked at him. He grinned and clapped me in the shoulder. It stung a bit. Not exactly what I was expecting but hey, we were having fun. Yeah, I got it like that!
After the game, Marcus and I went to the nearby Burger King. I ordered two cheeseburgers and a large coke, with some fries. Marcus ordered the Angus. I guess he must have seen the commercials as much as I have. We sat down eating. I was famished. I ate cereal in the morning and as usual, by the time the afternoon is over, I am hungry enough to eat a horse. I was not eating like a dainty, feminine lady-like type of gal. Oh, no. I was eating like the big guy from Animal House. It took me a moment to notice that Marcus was watching me. He was smiling and gently shaking his head. I looked at him, forced a smile. What was he thinking? Marcus grinned and continued to eat, as fast and as hungrily as I was. When we were done, our faces were covered with ketchup and cheese. Like a pair of kids. We both burst out laughing.
And this is how it all began. After this memorable time in Brockton, Marcus and I became buddies. We walked to class together. All the girls were looking at me with venom in their eyes. I couldn’t believe my luck. I was spending so much time with the guy of my dreams. A handsome young black man. Future police officer and/or registered nurse. Yeah, he was every woman’s dream guy and he was with me. People thought we were a couple. I really didn’t mind. Marcus and I grew closer. I even introduced him to my father Lawrence and my brothers James, Luke and Leonard. I told them that he was special to me so they backed off. My family is really protective of me, especially since I’m the only lady ( well, female is more accurate, I ain’t dainty) in the house since mom died thirteen years ago.
Marcus was awesome. Educated, handsome and masculine. He had a bright future ahead of him. So why was he single? One day, we had the misfortune of running into his ex-girlfriend Rachel. Rachel was a slut just by the looks of her. Picture this : Fishnets, stockings, blond hair ( cheap wig!) and too much makeup. Yeah, this gal had tramp written all over her. Rachel saw us and walked up to us. The bitch made a nasty remark about Marcus dating chubby white women now. That just pissed me off!
I got mad and told her to keep away, or else. Rachel got the message when I shook my fist in her face. She backed down and went her way. I looked at Marcus. Why in hell did he date that tramp? He shrugged and said something about being young and inexperienced. Apparently, Rachel the chicken head was the first girl he ever had sex with. I felt like offering him my condolences but didn’t. I too made a mistake when I was younger. I was so desperate to lose my virginity that I gave it up to a drunk. I was stupid. But not anymore. Now, I was looking for honest love.
Once, Marcus took me to his house. I met his father and his sister. His father Lobo Brock was a former U.S. Marine captain and his sister Rita was a nurse at Brockton Hospital. They lived in a neat little house in Brockton’s west side. I was in Marcus’s room by myself for a minute. I took a look around. Guess what I found under the bed? Magazines. Magazines filled with images of big-booty women being taken in every way by men with huge dicks. Oh, well. I guess Marcus knows what he likes. I found another magazine. This one had pictures of black men having sex with other men. My eyes went wide when I saw it. I put it back where I found it, disturbed.
When I saw Marcus next, he was coming from the kitchen with some food. He handed me a plate filled with rice, beans and pork. It smelled delicious. Yeah, the dude could cook. I looked at him more attentively than before. He was so good-looking, fine and masculine. There was a ruggedness to his good looks that was palpable. Could he be gay or bisexual? This was a definite possibility. I thought of the book I saw him reading a long time ago in the library. Yes, maybe Marcus Brock was bisexual. Maybe he really liked both men and women. That might explain his lack of interest in the brazen femmes at school. So why was he hanging out with me? Did he secretly have feelings for me, just as I did for him or was this just wishful thinking?
We ate dinner in silence in his living room. His father had a martial arts class to teach and his sister had a shift to start. Both of them seemed to like me and they were really nice. I stared at Marcus. He smiled and asked me what’s up. I looked at him. I felt like saying a lot of things to him. I wanted to tell him that I knew he was bisexual and that I didn’t care. I wasn’t like so many women out there who would flip if they found out their man was bisexual. I would at least try to understand him. Work things out. In my opinion, anything can be worked out.
I loved him that much. I wanted to say this to him. But I didn’t. Friends are friends. Friends don’t fall in love with friends. It’s never good for the friendship. As much as I’d love to be with Marcus, I know that deep inside I’m just a buddy to him. Whether he prefers women or men, I’m just not in the romantic picture. It’s a bitter pill to swallow. But that’s just the way it is. There is no changing that.