what? I don't care if you got a man, shit, I got a gal. I was just asking where I knew you from and trying to make conversation,” the young man retorted. “I can't stand y'all stuck up bitches.”
“Good,” she snapped back. “That means leave then.”
Just then, Dink coolly strolled up. “Baby, is there a problem?” He looked at T.J., then back to Laci.
“Nothing I couldn't handle,” she told him confidently and planted a nice healthy kiss on his lips to show anyone else who could have been watching that she was taken.
T.J. didn't like how she played him, but he knew that they would eventually cross paths again. Next time, she'd be the one getting played and that was a promise.
2
“BY THE END OF THIS CLASS,” Mr. Giencanna spoke, “you may or may not think differently about your religious beliefs, but I guarantee you that by the end of this class,” he poked his index finger against the podium, “you will be impartial and look at situations that may arise in everyday life objectively.” He emphasized the last word.
“So, are you saying that we don't need to believe in God?” asked the same girl who answered the first question. The class looked at the girl, and then at T.J., who sat next to her. He remained silent in a noble attempt to not embarrass himself any further. Dink had a feeling that question would come up. He was just glad that the girl asked it, rather than T.J. running off at the mouth.
“No, I'm not saying that,” Professor Giencanna confirmed. “Religion is a very controversial subject – one of which we will only touch on in this class. Everyone has his or her own beliefs; however, academically examining religion will make you think. There are many religions, christianity, Judaism, Islam and even Hinduism, to name a few. Each of these are ancient established religions with their own unique beliefs and doctrines. Who are we to say what is right and what is wrong? Right now, your answers are very subjective…meaning, one sided. Once you look at the big picture,” he raised his arms in the air in a fan-like motion, “you will become more objective and be able to express your objectivity with a valid argument.”
Dink smiled and nodded his head. For a white guy, Mr. G. an ole G, he thought to himself.
Professor Giencanna then looked up at the clock and saw that he had 30 seconds left.
“Let me leave you with a quote from one of my favorite philosophers, Rene Descartes. ‘Living without philosophizing is exactly like having one's eyes closed without ever trying to open them; and the pleasure of seeing everything which our sight reveals is in no way comparable to the satisfaction accorded by knowledge of the things which philosophy enables us to discover.’” He stood up and walked in front of the podium, “Class dismissed.”
Dink got up out of his seat and flung his large backpack over his shoulder. “Let me get that for you,” he told Laci as she stuffed her notebook into her backpack.
As people filed out of the lecture hall, a few students walked up to Dink, welcoming him to Boston University. Some patted him on his back, introduced themselves, then headed to their next class. There were those who ignored him but there was one who actually stopped to talk.
“Yo man, that was some shit you laid out there,” a tall, toffee colored man said to Dink.
Dink observed the man's long slender frame, clean shaven face, and short hair that looked like it may have been naturally curly instead of the Jheri curls that most folks were rockin' back in the Bronx. He wore a red and white Adidas sweat suit with matching red and white kicks. He also had a large diamond earring in his left ear, along with a Herringbone chain that didn't look like a knock off. Dude got a lil grip, Dink said to himself.
“Hi,” he extended his hand, “I'm Steven but my friends call me Slim.” Dink suppressed a grin. The name ‘Slim’ fit Steven to a tee. He had to stand around 6-foot-8-inches tall and couldn't have weighed more than a buck fifty.
Dink reached out to shake his hand. “Nice to meet you. I'm Darryl and this is my girl, Laci.”
Steven smiled at her and shook her hand.
Just then, a voice bellowed, “Slim…what up nigga, you comin?”
Dink, Laci and Slim looked over at where the voice came from. It was T.J., and he was headed toward them.
T. J. stood about six feet tall, had a nice muscular build with dark colored hair that he kept cut close to his head. He had amber-colored hypnotizing eyes and shapely lips that he got from his mother's side of the family. He got his coloring, strong angled jaw line and keen nose from his father's side. T.J. was exceptionally handsome. He dressed in the latest trendy clothing but still stuck out like a sore thumb. Standing firm, as if he had a point to prove, T.J. wasn't going to back down from Dink.
“Aye, yo,” Dink called out to T.J. He wrestled with what he was about to do next. Darryl Highsmith wasn't one to apologize, especially when he did nothing wrong, but he realized that he had to be the bigger man. “Hey, about what happened earlier,” he looked at T.J. and stood in front of him, “I didn't mean to embarrass you. I was just—”
“Embarrass me?” T.J. interrupted in a shocked tone, looking at Dink up and down. “If that's all you got, shit…you need to go back where you came from, learn the shit again, then come at me.”
“What did you say?” Dink questioned.
Laci looked at Dink and noticed that he instinctively clenched his fists and tightened his jaw. She knew that even approaching T.J. was a big step for him, so she quickly grabbed his hand and kissed it.
From his observation, Dink saw that at twenty-two years old, he was probably the oldest student in class. Although he was trying to rap to T.J. man to man, he'd let him get that one off, but that was the only thing he was gonna let slide. Dink had come too far to get disrespected by a bitch ass nigga…a white one at that.
T.J. played the game right because he was pissed. He was tired of the rejection and disrespect he received. Never in his short college life had anyone challenged him the way Dink had in class and he didn't like that. “Let's get outta dodge man.” He looked at Slim. “We got some shit to take care of at the frat house.” T.J. walked away.
Slim watched T.J. slink away, then looked back at Dink. He knew his boy was embarrassed. As second year students at Boston University, T.J. and Slim were taking additional bullshit introductory electives just to keep their GPAs up, but they had even more nefarious reasons for taking intro courses— the freshman hotties. They knew the incoming female freshmen would be fly, and provide a new breed of bitches to dip up in. Freshmen always loved attention from the upper classmen and both T.J. and Slim were more than willing to oblige.
Slim and T.J. were both products of broken homes and found college-life an easy way to escape their pasts. They both paid their own way because their families couldn't afford it. Unlike T.J., Slim did it the hard way – he worked two part time jobs and took out student loans.
When T.J. saw Dink that day in the registration office, there was something about him that told him that he was more than that squirrel trying to stack nuts…he was the real deal and now here this nigga was, in college, checking him.
T.J. never thought he'd encounter anyone with Dink's ability to think in a Philosophy 101 class. Dink was on a whole ‘nother level, and although he was a threat to him, that wasn't what
