Brown Eyes, Blue Smile Ch. 05

"I don't know who you are, and for the record, my name ain't 'white boy'. You got that, or do I need to make it clear enough?"

"Oh yeah I got that," Chris snorted. "And I'm surprised that you don't know me, even though I know you pretty well, Eric."

Eric looked at him sharply. Chris laughed derisively.

"Looks like now I've got your attention, don't I, white boy. You're the dude who's been messing around with my woman. That's what got me here to wanting to talk to you about."

This certainly did fire up Eric's attention, and it took him less time to recall Shanice narrating to him about her former man—Chris.

"What can I do for you, Chris?"

Chris smiled. "Oh, so you do know my name? I guess Shanice must have told you a lot, hasn't she?"

"Yes, she did. She as well told me that you and she are in the past."

"Well, she was wrong about that," said Chris. "She's wrong about a lot of things, and so are you, white boy, if you don't learn to keep to yourself."

"I'm going to ask you one last time before I slam my door on you, Chris. What do you want?"

"What I want," Chris emphasized the words, "is simple, white boy: stay the fuck away from Shanice. She's still my girl, and she's going to stay that way till I see fit to let her go." He wagged his finger at him. "I don't want to see you and her holding hands anymore."

"This some dick-measuring competition with you, Chris?"

"I ain't playing with your ass, white boy," Chris flashed his eyes at him. "This ain't no chump-talk I'm doing here. You keep your white boy hands off from my woman, and that's it."

Eric left the safety of his door and came and stood before it; the coldness in his eyes matched that of Chris. "And if I decide not to do that, what are you going to do about it?"

"Something you wouldn't like me to do, white boy. I see you and her talking again, I'm going to come round here, and next time I do, we ain't going to be so friendly as we are right now. You feel me, white boy?"

"Oh yeah, I feel you perfectly," he leaned his head towards him and said: "Black boy. I feel you just fine, knowing you're going to be watching. And next time you ever decide to come round my place and threaten me like this, you'd better come with an ambulance so they can haul your ass out here when I'm done breaking it."

Chris laughed. "Whatever. Just know this—I'll be watching your ass from now on."

"Oh, I can hardly wait. Now how about you getting the fuck out of my sight." He returned into his apartment and closed the door, turning back the lock.

"Punk motherfucker!" Chris fumed before taking his leave. The white boy wasn't worth his spite after all.