I remove my sunglasses and look into Bryce’s eyes. I see for the first time: There is no prince here. No shining white knight who is going to rescue me from my problems. Only a scared little boy afraid of being judged by others. No one ever comes to rescue me anyways. I should have expected this.

“You’re a coward,” I say finally. “What good is any of that diversity work if you run for the hills when the stakes are high? I guess it only applies in theory and not practice?”

He stands, unmoving. He lingers right next to me, waiting for me to soften and take care of his conflicting feelings. If only I could tell him he’s still a good person and it’s all going to be OK. If only I could make him feel better about his privilege, again. Not wanting to date me does not make him a bad person. Not wanting to date me because he is afraid of what others think makes him a coward. No, there is no prince here.

I grab my tray and walk toward the cashier. I feel his silent eyes piercing my back, but I don’t turn around. When I find an empty table at the back of the café my body slumps. My appetite is gone. I begin to wonder if Blackness makes me untouchable. If the only Black man interested in me is my like-a-brother best friend and white men react like this even when they are attracted to me, will I ever find a romantic partner? Will other men also be scared to date me because of the consequences of being attached to a Black body? What’s wrong with me? I think to myself. Something must be wrong. I inhale the tears, not wanting him to see me cry. I put on another disguise: the mask of strength. Emotion wells in my chest, but my eyes go dead, cold. It’s what’s needed for the protection of the soft parts underneath. There are so many soft parts, but no one seems to care that I need to be nurtured also. That I need a little tenderness too. They have built me for the battle, to withstand the hits. I just didn’t know there would be so many blows and that strength could be so suffocating.

The wind carries me back to my dorm room. I can’t walk on my own in this state. I float, lifelessly, until I somehow land in my bed. I need to study for my exam tomorrow, but not even that can generate the energy to rise. I remain horizontal and motionless. Counting cracks again until a haze of sleep and exhaustion washes over me.