"Steven."

"Mhm?"

"Steeeeeeeven. Wake up!"

Steven slapped Tasha's hand away. "I'm tired, Tasha. Let me sleep."

"But I came all the way to your house."

He turned to look at her, struggling to fully open his eyes. "Turn on the TV, put on a show on Netflix."

Tasha crossed her arms in annoyance. "I wanna go out, we haven't had a day out in so long. I could always call Jason if you're too tired to come with me..."

It was so wrong. She knew it was wrong, yet she did it more and more frequently. Using Jason to get to Steven. They weren't her best moments, but she had to admit that it worked on Steven.

"Fine." Steven sat up in his bed, head against the headboard, the blanket falling down to reveal his bare chest. "What do you wanna do?"

Tasha did all she could to avoid looking at his body. She walked over to his messy desk, her mind flashing back to the moment when her lips touched his.

"We could go thrift shopping? We haven't thrifted in a while."

Tasha and Steven's days out together were memorable for both of them. What they did varied depending on their moods and what they were up for. One time, they had decided to drive around just looking for yard sales and see if they'd find anything cool.

Another time they'd made a list of missions to accomplish, from finding 3 payphones to finding a set of twins at the mall, their days were always fun.

"Okay, let's do that. But first, let me go shower." He got up from the bed and grabbed his phone from the desk, kissing her forehead before heading to his bathroom.

Tasha took a deep breath.

It was getting harder and harder to resist Steven. She kept thinking about a relationship with him, but every time she did, she would mildly panic. Her sister had told her that it was because she had real feelings for him.

"You're scared of being with him because he'd be able to break your heart, so you can't let go," Janelle, her sister, had told her truthfully.

Now Tasha could admit it to herself, she was indeed scared of being left heartbroken. What if Steven found someone better than her? Someone way prettier, smarter, someone who was more confident?

Though she hated herself for leading Jason on, she was truly looking to fall in love with him. She knew it was possible, even heard of stories from people in arranged marriages who were able to fall in love.

Plus, Tasha was a realist. She knew love was a choice. Attraction and feelings of connection were not, but love was a choice. Making a choice to be there for the other person, to stand by their side, compromising and learning to grow with them.

It didn't matter that she and Steven had a connection, at the end of the day it really didn't matter.

She smiled thinking about Jason. She couldn't deny that he was a sweetheart. Although he attended a different high school and worked most days during the day at his father's office, he made sure to always clear his evenings for her.

He'd pick her up at about 7 pm and they'd go over to his house and just bake. He had told her that was his way of distressing and she'd been pleasantly surprised by the feeling of accomplishment and ease after baking a batch of cookies.

Sometimes when they had homework, they'd both sit on his bedroom floor and work the evening away. By 10 pm she was usually back home, he would drop her off and greet her parents before leaving. A total gentleman like always.

Tasha had thought that her parents would absolutely love him, not that they didn't, they liked him and were always so nice to him. But, Tasha had seen a look of confusion on her parents' faces when she first introduced him to them. It was as if they were expecting to see someone else.

Steven had become basically best friends with her parents, so she wasn't surprised when they flat out told her they thought Steven was her boyfriend after Jason had left.

Her mom had said, "That boy has eyes only for you, Natasha. You see the way he looks at you?" She was referring to Steven.

Jason hadn't met Steven yet and she wanted to keep it that way. At least, if they ever met she wanted to be nowhere in the vicinity. She hated awkward moments and Steven was bound to make it awkward.

"Steve, what did I tell you about leaving the front door open?" Steven's mom stopped once she reached Steven's door, which was wide open.

Tasha almost rolled her eyes at the sight of Mrs. Morrison. But instead, she plastered a fake smile on and let out a dry, "Good morning."

"Where's my son?" she didn't even bother greeting her back.

Tasha stared at her and noted that she always called Steven 'my son' when talking to her. It was never 'where's Steven' or 'who are you to Steven', but always 'where's my son' or 'who are you to my son.'

It was like she was constantly reminding Tasha that she had a connection with Steven that would always be greater than anything between them. She was his mom and that would be forever.

For Tasha, she was another reason why it would be better not to even get involved with Steven. She didn't need some bitter white woman hating her for being with her son. Nope.

"He's taking a shower," Tasha responded, still dry.

"Where are you guys going now?" Mrs. Morrison asked annoyingly, muttering, "Always making my son take you places," under her breath. Though Tasha could hear her loud and clear.

Tasha wasn't even really phased by Steven's mom's bitchiness. If the woman was trying to steer her away from her son she had to do more than just throw out some sly remarks. Tasha lived in Alabama, she was already used to bitchy white people.

She wasn't sure if Mrs. Morrison only disliked her because she was black (or whether she didn't think she was good enough for Steven because she was black), but either way, Tasha only viewed Mrs. Morrison as a slight headache. Annoying as hell yet still benign, curable or able to ignore.

"We're going to the thrift shop on the other side of town, Mrs. Morrison."

The older woman rolled her eyes as if she had heard that line a thousand and five times and was tired of the sound the words made.

Instead of commenting on what Tasha said, she just completely changed the topic. "Aren't you dating some boy that goes to the other high school? What's this fella's name again? Jacob? James?" She feigned ignorance, while in truth she knew the boy's name.

She'd overhead Steven rambling about the guy to the housekeeper Anne, a couple of weeks back. Of all people, he was talking to the housekeeper instead of his mother. Mrs. Morrison felt a sense of betrayal from her son. They used to be closer when he was a young boy, before he laid his eyes on Tasha.

Yes, they were close before. Before he learned about her disapproval of Tasha and before he grew distant due to her disdain and disapproval of a girl he just couldn't get over.

Before all that, Steven thought he knew his mom. He later found out of her racist beliefs, making him grow cold towards her.

He'd noticed that his mother was always a little off when Malik was over at his house, but he'd never truly known.

But, he was her only son. Mrs. Morrison was not going to lose him.

"His name is Jason. And yes, he's my boyfriend." Jason had asked Tasha the week prior, and she'd hesitated a little before saying yes. Jason hadn't noticed her hesitation, too anxious for an answer to perceive her mild wariness.

"And Jason is aware of the awful amount of time you and my son spend together?"

Tasha crossed her arms and inclined her head, her eyes narrowing in question. "What are you trying to say, Mrs. Morrison?"

"Just asking a fair question. You should be with your boyfriend instead of making my son drive you around town spending my money on you. You think I don't know what you're doing?"

Tasha was really interested to hear what the woman had to say. "Please, Mrs. Morrison, enlighten me. What am I doing?"

The blonde woman inched closer, now inside the room. "Girls like you are always looking to wealthier men to live off of. Because you're actually too lazy to actually find a job or make something out of your life, you feed off the ones who do have the means. It would be nice if you could actually invest in yourself instead of just expecting handouts. This country cannot continue giving out handouts, welfare cannot be forever. It is just the bitter truth. Your people will have to get up and build their lives instead of only relying on excuses. Slavery has been over for a whi-"

"That's enough!"

Steven was only wearing sweatpants, it was visible that he'd just gotten out of the shower and overheard his mom so quickly stopped her train of destruction.

The first thing Tasha's mind thought about was that it was a pity Steven was so good looking. Because although she wasn't planning on finally giving in, his stupid mother's words had put a definite end to any imagination. The woman had been rude the other few times she'd talked to her, but never this menacing.

What if Steven hadn't been there? What else would she have said? Perhaps she would have called her a gold digger? Or worse, a money-hungry-nigger.

How could such an awful parent raise such a wonderful child? Maybe Steven was like that too. Deep down he probably thought everything his mom said, too.

"Why the fuck would you say such things to her?!"

Weirdly enough Tasha wanted to laugh. Let her drop an f-bomb in the presence of her mother, or worse in a sentence directed at her... She wouldn't be alive to tell the story.

Steven was so infuriated with his mom, Tasha could see that, yet all she wanted now was to go home. That bitch had sucked her happiness away, now she was just tired. She wasn't even hurt by what the woman said, just tired that she had to tolerate such bullshit at one of her closest friend's house.

Before she could get to the stairs though, Steven grabbed her arm, halting her hasty steps.

"Wait, Tasha. Don't leave, please."

Tasha stopped trying to walk away and turned around to look at Steven. A moment ago he was furious at his mom, now he looked desperate. Like she'd rip his heart if she just walked out the door. It would kill her to leave, his expression held in it the one of someone who was scared to lose something precious.

It made her heart hurt. That's when she realized it, Steven didn't merely have a crush on her. No, his feelings ran deeper than that. She was scared to even think about it and would wave off that word from her brain.

"Please, don't go. I'm so sorry for what she said to you."

Steven brought her closer to him, breaking the space between the two of them, holding her close to him in hopes she wouldn't leave. He wouldn't let her go, never.

Tasha just hugged him back, her chin and hands resting on his shoulders. His smell was perfect, it reminded her of only good things. It was Steven through and through.

"I'm sorry. So sorry."

"The school to prison pipeline, unfair incarceration, unjust sentencing, the wealth gap, institutional racism, police brutality, discrimination, red lining."

Steven nodded in agreement, "Yes, honey. I know."

Tasha continued, speaking slowly. "Slavery might be over, but everything I named still isn't. Just because black people aren't picking fucking cotton any more doesn't mean we aren't fucking oppressed."

Steven nodded in agreement. His voice was sincere and just above a whisper, "You're absolutely right. I'm so sorry for what she said to you."

Suddenly she noticed how his breath was hot on her neck, causing goosebumps, so she decided to move away from the hug before it was too late.

She couldn't move too far from his embrace though, his arms still held on tightly to her waist. Although, now his eyes weren't pleading for her to stay anymore. Now they were pleading for a totally different thing.

"Tasha?" It was a question. He wanted to know if he could go ahead with what he desired the most at the moment, to kiss her endlessly.

But she couldn't.

If there was one thing Tasha could never and would never do, it would be being a cheater. She despised cheaters with her whole heart and she wasn't ready to hate herself yet.

So with more willpower than she had, she shook her head almost timidly, a little disappointed to be disappointing him.

He closed his eyes, schooling his raging desire to ravage her lips. Then he took a deep breath and held her beautiful yet scared face with his hands. He stared at her for a second, then settled for a kiss on her forehead instead.

That would have to do for the moment.

...

A/N: A 2262 WORDS PART! THANK YOU ALL FOR READING :)