Gold Medal Winner

The end of every semester of International Relations ended with a special prize for the team that performed best on the project. This year, as almost every year prior, the winsome white women fell for their dominant foreign suitors. The rare glimpses turned to giggles, the flirting turned to dates, and the late nights working on the project turned into later nights fucking. And the fucking, once forbidden for the white women and haram for the Arab, turned into a joining of faiths and minds and bodies, the private turning public and the dates turning into the promises of much more.

"So," the professor asked as the class, segregated no longer, gradually tore their eyes from their chosen. "The program has taken a look at everyone's fine work. But the gold medal -- the stipend and the summer in Dubai -- can only go to one team: Hassan and Amy."

There was a girlish shriek of joy from Amy. It wasn't so much the summer in Dubai, though living in the lap of luxury with Hassan had its charms, no doubts. The stipend would help fund her though. She needed to be on point for Hassan. And it was liberation. Liberation from the crusty old generation of Grahams. Liberation to focus on her Niger buck completely, misguided racism be damned.