The complexity of trying to untangle my new desire for white men burns in my psyche. A range of feelings and considerations—guilt, betrayal of Black men, shame, fear of judgment, and confusion—wash over me every time I think about white men romantically. The hardest part is feeling like I can’t talk to anyone about it, definitely not Earnell and Keli, who are both super pro-Black. Keli constantly proclaims she “can’t wait to find her Black king and make Black-ass babies.” They have both picked up on my attraction to white guys through Bryce, and Earnell constantly jokes that he knows I’m “going to end up in an ‘ice cream sandwich’ partnership,” but I don’t feel comfortable discussing it further with them.

Despite the challenges, I’m on the hunt. Good-looking white boys are everywhere and any one of them could be my Prince Charming. So I keep my eyes peeled: at the gym while pretending to work out on machines that I actually hate; in the cafeteria; and right now, behind a bush next to the math building. I carefully bend the leaves backward and peek as this super-hot boy-man—boy-man: a young fellow who is no longer a child, but is also not a full-blown adult yet—sits on the stairs scanning through a textbook. He must be so smart, I think to myself. I bet he’s a great kisser.

I am deep in fantasyland when I feel hot breath on my ear. “What are you doing?” someone whispers. I shriek and fall forward out of the bush, right in front of Prince Charming. “Whoa, that’s gnarly,” he says. “Were you in the bushes?” Prince Charming and Earnell, who is the surprise bush whisperer, pull me up off the ground. I am too busy staring into Prince Charming’s green eyes to talk. I smile, awkwardly, mesmerized by being so close. Finally, sooo close.

“Hello!?” Earnell says while snapping and clapping his hands right next to my ear. “What’s wrong wit you, girl? I thought you liked Nazarene? I told you these white boys are going to be the end of you. Have you learned nothing from the past four hundred years?” Prince Charming looks bewildered like a deer caught in headlights.

“My great-grandparents were abolitionists, for what it’s worth. And my parents voted for Jimmy Carter, Bill Clinton, and even Al Gore. So yea. Well, uh, I should probably get going. Hope you’re OK and stay out of the bushes. There could be ticks in there.” Prince Charming shuffles up the sidewalk, taking all his liberal declarations with him. I turn to Earnell in playful rage and smack him several times on the arms.

“Earnell! Stop ruining my life!” Earnell laughs diabolically, then jets up the sidewalk yelling after Prince Charming, “Wait, come back, Massa! Carol Ann done went and fell in love wit ya. I swear all these negroes have Stockholm syndrome.”