My mother came quite close and embracing Sasha's thin shoulders, led him to the table. The touch of my mother's bare hands in the cloud cloying fragra...ce of her perfume from persistent chest elasticity, abutting in Sasha's shoulder, the boy dizzy.- What is it, Sasha? The legs do not hold? Come on let's go eat with my mother. The boy should be strong. Sasha's mom cooked delicious.Dizzy. In a daze Sasha sat down on a stool in front of the table and poked with a fork in a bowl with some coarsely. My mom didn't care that much but my grandparents did. They weren't racist but they thought that I should be with another black girl very strongly.And, to their great joy, I didn't go out with her...as far as they knew. I of course told my mom because we were best friends, her being both mom and dad. And I am glad to say she was just happy that I was happy.We actually didn't start officially going out until 10th grade. I was in most of her classes that year and she pretended she hated it the. More

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