Lil Peter

"Hey boy," Shalonda said, trying to run down the scrawny geek fleeing from her math class to his next class. "I said stop."

Finally, the boy stopped. He turned around. He was cute, bookish, gangly, nerdy. The boy gawked at the Black girl, taller and stronger than he was.

"Y-y-yes?" he said.

"What's your name, boy?" Shalonda said, putting her hand on her waist.

"P-p-peter. Peter Littleton," he said, trying to summon some modicum of bravery. It failed. She stared him down, until he quavered.

"You understand this fuckin' math class?" she asked.

"Y-y-yeah, it isn't so hard," he said.

"Hard for me," she responded. "I want you to tutor me." He just stood there staring at this ebony skinned smokeshow. He couldn't even verbalize a response.

"Jesus, for a smart kid, you're slow on the response." She tore a sheet of paper out of his book, writing her number on it. "Call me after class. And bring some dinner when you come."