Chapter 6
Six
Cameron
“Damn, I chose the worst time to be faithful,” Que looks around the University of Georgia campus.
We’re out looking for a particular person and decided to get to the campus early to just people-watch.
“These college co-eds, man.” He whistles as a group of young beauties walk past, and a couple take a look back at us.
“And my dumb-ass chose to be motherfucking faithful.”
This is way different from when I went to college.
Going to an Ivy League school is about as exciting as everyone thinks it is: it’s not. Trust fund babies, wealthy heirs, and lucky people who just happened to get a full ride go there. Everyone is playing a constant game of ass-kissing and seeing who can make better connections for the future.
It all works—the judges, lawyers, doctors, and those in real power constantly give each other passes.
They’ll remember the time one of them had one too many beers and had to hold the other up.
They’ll remember when they didn’t study for the exam the night before, and someone gave them cheat notes so they could pass.
And if it’s a heinous crime? They’ll remember when someone’s daddy got them off and expunged their record without a trace. They’ll remember when the other’s kid is accused of the same crime.
It’s why my parents still have a tight-knit group.
It’s not because they like those people; I lost count of how often I heard my mother talk mad shit about those pecking hens she hangs out with.
It’s because she knows there is something to gain by being friends with the Beckys, Karens, Susans, and Gertrudes and it’s power.
Its currency is more potent than any amount of money.
The moment I realized that at a young age, I never looked back and used it to my advantage every chance I could—just like I’m doing right now.
Everyone is an influencer/content creator. I lost count of how many people held up a phone to their faces as they made a video. A few people did numerous re-takes and hi-fived each other upon the last result.
That works for me. I already know what will make a certain somebody go viral, and it won’t be anything she would want to be remembered for.
“There she goes,” I nod to the blonde a short distance from me, and Que becomes laser-focused.
She’s a blonde beauty with a fit body and a bubbly personality.
She’s perfect, like a Barbie. “I’m about to head to class now.
” I glance down at my watch and stand up to gather my backpack.
“It’s time for me to sit in on Feminist Theory class. ”
“Man, good luck with that bullshit,” Que shakes his head, “I’m going to girl watch and try to remember my woman will cut my dick off if I even try anything.”
“Hay’s a good woman,” I concur.
~~~~~~
AFTER SITTING IN ON a lecture about how the new feminism isn’t about a sexual revolution but being comfortable in your skin and whatever the hell else the professor talked about (I truly lost track), we were separated into breakout groups.
I was matched up with Barbie.
Barbie is the type of woman I’ve been around my entire life —privileged, stuck-up, and attractive. She can shout about equality and even go to a few BLM and feminist protests for clout. She could even recite lyrics from Lil’ Baby and talk about how much she loved Martin.
But we all know what’s good with her—the first opportunity Barbie’ll get, her husband, friends, and kids will be whiter than the purest cocaine.
That’s where I come in. I need to get close to this woman so she can make some very bad decisions that’ll impact not only her future but her father’s.
After all, if your daddy is going to act like we’re homies when he tried to interrogate me and get me to flip on Que, well.
..why wouldn’t I fuck his baby girl, literally and figuratively?
“And what do you think?” Barbie turns to me.
I wasn’t paying any attention, but I’m sure I'll score big if I hit the major talking points.
“I feel feminism has come a long way, but we still have a way to go. We must be more intersectional and include women of color in the fight. I see more white women going up for their trans sisters than I see them going up for any Black, Latina, or Asian woman. When one wins, everyone does.”
Barbie smiled a warm smile at me, and I got her. It’s only a matter of time before she opens her legs to me, and I know that’ll happen within the next 24 hours. “That was amazing. What was your name again?”
“Cameron,” I smile at her, “and you?”
“Morgan.”
~~~~~
“I DON’T THINK I’VE ever seen you around here,” Morgan says to me as we walk through campus, “I mean, it’s a lot of people here, but I don’t think I’ve noticed you in class before. Were you always there?”
The real answer is no. My friends have connects at the college, so it was easy for me to slide in. Plus, all I had to do was put on some Jordans, jeans, and wear a baseball cap, and I’ll look like any other student here.
Morgan wasn’t that hard to find. Tesh helped me research her, and we found everything about the woman without even trying. She keeps all of her social media pages open, and she documents almost every damn thing she does.
She loves fro-yo on Sundays. She binge-watches Love is Blind and often does color commentary on it. She quotes Drake like he’s going out of style and is a diehard Taylor Swift fan (of course, she is). She doesn’t hide who her dad is, but toes the fine line of blue lives matter.
She’s the easiest mark I could find, and it was almost as if God had just handed me her as a gift. “I usually sit in the way back, but my spot was taken when I got there today, so I decided to sit a little closer,” I spread the lie nice and thick.
“I’m glad you did,” she turns to me and smiles. She is a beautiful woman. I almost feel guilty about what I’m about to do, but had her Daddy left me alone, none of this would have occurred. “So, what are your plans for the weekend?”
“Well, I need to study,” I chuckle, and she follows, “but other than that, I’m free.”
“Do you need help?” Morgan turns to me, and I raise an eyebrow. “With any courses, I mean? I tutor high school students during the week, so I can help you with anything if you like?”
“Well...” I glance down and then look back at her, softly biting my lip. I see her melt already. “I could use some assistance.”