Afraid to Love Read Online Free Page A

still round and out there, but that was genetics, not the aftermath of fried chicken and cornbread.
    After my shower, I wrapped up in a towel and got to work on my hair. I took my time styling it perfectly and then wrapped it for the night. By the time I crawled into bed, I was exhausted and sore. I didn't want the next morning to come because I didn't want to spend another day at the hospital, but I knew it was inevitable. Everything I dreaded in life seemed to be inevitable.
    The next morning, I started my day on autopilot. I went through the motions of getting ready without giving it much thought. I wanted to distance myself from what I had to survive at work, but when I walked through the door I knew it wasn't going to be possible. Heather greeted me with her normal smile, but there was something different about it.
    The day passed and several of my coworkers went silent whenever I entered the room. Their rudeness kept me aware that I was the new kid on the playground and I didn't look like them. I didn't act like them. Put plainly, I wasn't one of them. During lunch break, I met another black nurse.
    “How long did it take them to get used to you?” I asked her.
    “What do you mean?” she arched a brow.
    “I mean how long did it take the white people to accept you?” I asked.
    “You’re crazy,” she laughed.
    “You haven't noticed how they talk about us?” I asked.
    “You're crazy,” she shook her head, “they aren't talking about me. They're talking about you, because from what I've heard you walk around here thinking you're still in the damn ghetto. Cut the attitude!”
    She shook her head and walked out of the room. I crossed my arms and followed her.
    “What the hell do you mean?” I shouted after her.
    “What you're doing right now, honey,” she said shaking her head.
    The bitch didn't even look back at me as she walked away. I wanted to chase after her and tell her what a traitor to her own she was. I wanted to tell her to cut the high and mighty crap. She could act like she was one of them, but at the end of the day she was just another black woman that the world tolerated. They may act friendly to her face, but I knew they talked about her behind her back. White people always did that shit.
    I lied to Heather and told her I had the beginnings of a migraine. I think the older woman knew I wasn't telling the truth, but she let me leave early anyway. I drove around town for a while fuming at that bitch's remarks. Acting like I was from the ghetto? Please bitch, I am from the ghetto and I'm damn proud of it. I worked my ass off to get through nursing school. No one helped me. Not my parents, not my friends, hell I didn't even take help from the damn government.
    My stomach growled and I considered going to the coffee shop, but I didn't want to see Mark again. I had already told him too much, given him too much leverage over me. I thought about trying to explain the situation at work to him, but it made me laugh. He'd be just like everyone else. He'd tell me to change myself to fit into what they wanted. I rolled my eyes as I pulled into the drive way. I decided I'd call Sasha. She was the only person in the world who might understand what I was going through.
    I searched my purse for my phone, but it wasn't there. I searched the entire car before deciding I must have left it at work. I was getting ready to drive back to the hospital when I saw Mark walking up. He waved to me and held something up. It was my phone! How did he get it? Sighing, I realized I must have forgotten at the coffee shop the evening before.
    “Hey,” he called.
    “Hi.” I frowned at my own stupidity.
    “You left this yesterday,” he said and handed me my phone through the window.
    “Wait a minute,” I said, “How did you know where I lived?”
    “I called around to the numbers in the phone until Sasha finally told me your address. Nice girl. Said I should tell you to call her,” he chuckled.
    “Sounds just like