Origins pt. 10

In December of 1989 I began an art class flirtation with a beautiful Cambodian girl named Thy (she actually did model). We sat together, drew together, and molded clay together. On a Thursday afternoon shortly before Christmas she came to me as fourth period was about to start and asked me to skip class with her. I had never done anything like that before. We snuck off the high school campus and walked up Burke Lake Road to the King's Park Shopping Center bundled up against the cold. A few times she took my hand in her gloved grip. I was on top of the world, rebelling and falling in love at the same time. She took me to a Chinese restaurant where she knew the employees and spoke to them in whatever the language of Cambodia is. I had never eaten Chinese before and was too finicky to try it so I watched her eat noodle soup before we headed back to catch our buses. The next day I was in pre-algebra watching the clock waiting for Winter break to begin. She walked into my classroom and whispered something to my teacher. Ms. Weaver called out that I was needed in the office, and I followed Thy into the hallway. She wasn't even an office assistant. She was sucking on a candy cane and said "I just wanted to give you a Christmas card before we left, and this...", and she quickly kissed me on the cheek in the long hall of blue lockers and cold linoleum. I walked back to class touching the spot where her lips had been. I could feel the candycane stickiness of her kiss, and kept my hand there until the final bell rang. Over the break she called me. After talking for awhile she said "How come you haven't asked me to go with you?" I didn't know what to say, and stammered, embarassed. "It's because I'm Cambodian isn't it?", she sharply asked. All at once I realized that was why I hadn't asked her. I was mad for this girl, her adventurousness, rebel streak, and beautiful face, but I was afraid of what my friends would think. We were part of a group of all white jocky guys and gum smacking white girls. Thy was not someone known to my social circle. With her accent and skin color she never could be. I lied and said, "Of course not. It's just I'm not ready to go with anybody right now." And I lost her forever. After break I was ashamed to look her way and art was no longer a time of togetherness. I had given up the chance for the first great young love of my life because I was worried about others' racist perceptions. I had forgotten this for a long time, but Jeremiah's comment to Joe that "Tom's not a racist", brought it all back. I may not be one, but I let other peoples' prejudices break a girl's heart and my own when 14 was my only reality.