Prologue: Part Four: The Snob

Adisa kicked Denise's leg under the table. Her stepsister stifled a gasp of shock and pain but said nothing. "Denny? Are you okay? Sick or something?" Their mother asked. Denise smiled sweetly. "Fine." She said in a strained voice. Their mother didn't question it, waving her hand for Denny to continue. "You were saying something . . . ?"

Adisa glared pointedly at her sister. Denise coughed, before shaking her head. "Never mind. It doesn't make sense, now that I think about it." She said convincingly. Adidas nodded in gratitude - a small curt nod so their mother wouldn't notice - and picked up her steel fork, stabbing at several peas. Her mother winced. "Adisa . . . Can't you eat the peas properly? Just pick them up?" Adisa frowned slightly. "They keep slipping off on their own." Her mother pursed her lips in a tight smile. "Just . . . pick them up properly." Adisa sighed softly, before nodding.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and Adisa excused herself, leaving Denise with their mom, ignoring the stares clearly stating Help me! with a helpless shrug. Adisa glanced in the mirror in the hall as she walked past it.

Her frizzy, coarse dark brown (that most people thought was black) hair was straightened. She'd spent quite a bit getting her hair lotioned and shampooed and pampered. Now it was smooth and straight, running down to the small of her back. Her skin wasn't black like most thought. She had caramel skin. She liked it. That was enough. Her eyes were dark brown, and she wore a gold coloured t-shirt, some jeans, and blue sneakers.

Adisa smiled.

She looked okay. And then she turned her attention back to the phone. The screen opened and showed a calling screen. Jackson Maniros, 001267988. Adisa let a giggle escape her lips, feeling like a school girl. She tapped the answer button and raised the phone to her ear. "Jackson?" She said. Her boyfriend was a complete sweetheart. And he looked really good. "Hey, Adi. You're not doing anything right now, are you?" His voice came out scratchy, and Adisa figured the signal wasn't great. She glanced back towards the large empty hall in which her mother and Denise were eating silently. "No. Why?" She said, walking away from her mother's hall, and heading towards the main corridor of the house instead.

"I was wondering if you'd meet my folks?" No wonder Jackson's voice was scratchy. Adisa knew that he had a tremor in his voice when he was nervous. But he rarely was. This was new. "Are you sure? I mean, your parents are pretty strict and idealistically old-fashioned. How would they feel if you brought a girl to dinner who isn't Mexican? Or anywhere close to Latino." She said. Although she got annoyed by it, people stared when they saw her and Jackson. They did. And they whispered and gossiped. A black girl with a brown guy? Yeah, good joke.

Well, Adisa didn't think it was funny.

"I think they'll get used to it faster after meeting you." He said, cutting into her thoughts. "Okay . . ." She said reluctantly. "Fine." Jackson laughed a short laugh of relief. "Thanks." Adisa shrugged. "Well then, what time?"

"8PM is dinner time. Does that work?"

"Yeah, that's fine."

"Great. Talk to you at 8?"

"Yeah. Bye Jai."

She tapped the 'End Call' button on the screen, and then turned on her heel. She had to get ready to meet Jackson's parents.
Oh joy.
She rolled her eyes, but resignedly went upstairs to begin the lengthy process of getting dressed.

******

Adisa felt uncomfortable, focusing on staring at the plate in front of her. "So you're black?" Jackson's mother asked, which made Adisa blink at the strange forwardness. "I am, yes." She said, looking down at her hand and holding it up, laughing nervously. "Black, see?" His mother only nodded, letting silence fill the air. "And . . . you're rich. You're black and rich?" Adisa felt slightly offended, her fingers tightened. "I don't see how my skin colour has anything to do with how much money I have. I am black but it's not me who's rich. That's my mother. I plan on earning whatever I get in life."

His father spat out a bit of Coke.

"How? Through Jackson's money?"

Adisa felt shocked. Had his father just accused her of being a gold-digger. "Dad." Jackson finally said, his jaw clenched. "Please don't be rude." Jackson himself looked good. He had his jet-black hair gelled and managed, looking nice and clean-shaven. It was good. He was good. Adisa took in a breath, before saying anything. "It's fine. But no, I won't be relying on Jackson or anyone to get anywhere, other than me." Her voice came out a bit curtly.

Kenny Maniros was a fairly young looking middle aged man. He had wrinkles crinkling around his eyes and laugh lines, but no other sign of his age. He wore black rectangle glasses, rimmed with plastic, and had on a faded polo shirt. However, his look, to Adisa, seemed like he was trying to conceal mild disdain. He had a hand clasped over Mia Maniros, his wife and Jackson's mother.

Mia had curly brown hair and purple lipstick plastered over her lips, which curves up in a fake smile. She wore a simple red blouse and her red painted fingernails tapped the table. Her other hand tightened around her husband's.

Adisa focused on her fingers. "Jackson, I should go. I forgot that my father had to meet with us today." She said softly. She looked up at the parents. "I apologize. Maybe another time." Mia smacked her lips and smiled,a more genuine smile than the past two hours of silent dinner. "That's fine. We understand. Bye sweetheart." She said, practically pushing me out the door. "I'll take you." Jackson said, getting up out of his chair. Adisa put on a fake smile. "It's fine. I drove here anyways. Bye..." She said, waving and slamming the door to their apartment shut before Jackson could argue, and she began to walk quickly down the hall towards the elevator. She stopped, as she heard loud voices that she recognized as those of Jackson and his parents.

"You just had to make her mad!"

"Oh come on, Diablo, it's like you've never been with a girl before."

"And you had to pick a black girl didn't you? Couldn't go with a nice Mexican girl who knows how to cook? I bet this Adisa didn't even know how to make a simple, stereotypical taco!"

"Papi, we don't have the kinda money to be specific or choosy!"

"What? Boy, did you think that you'd be able to get a ring and a grand outta that girl?"

Adisa clenched her fists at that. Jackson wouldn't do anything like that. He was too nice. Too moral. It was his parents that were the real mess.

Assholes.

". . .I could've. She was practically in love with me, Ma!"

She involuntarily stepped back. It had been Jackson's voice. Without any doubt. He had said that. She was practically in love with me. Adisa felt rooted to her spot. She couldn't move. She felt like a knot was building in her throat.

"And her money could've gotten us through everything! I appealed to her snobby, sheltered ways. I know how to read girls, Papi. It's no big deal. If you hadn't ruined it!"

Adisa felt her blood boil. I appealed to her snobby, sheltered ways. She sighed angrily, and stomped back to the apartment's door. With some restraint, she jabbed the door bell with a finger. The door opened. "Adi, baby." Adisa was even more angered.
Jackson really was playing her. And she'd gone along with it like a fool. Adisa grabbed whatever was closest, which happened to be the glass vase on the board next to the door. She threw it at the floor, making Kenny shout and Mia speak erratically in Spanish.

Jackson looked up at her slowly after staring at the broken glass pieces. "What the fuck?" He demanded, looking bewildered. Adisa nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah, I was thinking about that too, Asshole. We're done. In fact, no, you're done." She said angrily, stalking away without any more worry. He didn't follow her. Adisa continued her way, slamming the door on the elevator, and as it dinged! she entered, and let the sadness creep out. She's genuinely believed that Jackson was a sweet guy. One in a million. But he was the exact opposite. A nice guy. Nope. A player. Adisa scowled, at the thought that he had charmed her and played with her heart, when he hadn't had any reciprocated feelings towards her.

Adisa felt the need to get away. When she got out of the elevator, she, to many people's shock, stomped through the lobby and out into the parking lot, straight to the parking lot. As she got into the car, and jammed in the ignition key, she turned the gear to Reverse and began backing out of the crowded parking space.

Adisa was at an intersection crossing with the main road, about to turn, when she realized that she didn't know where it was she wanted to go. She rationalized.

Home. Shelter. Denise.

Mom.

But then where to go?

There was nowhere else. Adisa glanced at a bus stop ad. Come Join The Circus, a Musical in New York City. There was a happy mask and sad mask contortions to practically comical versions of expressions known for the two emotions. Under it, was a circus tent and blood. Romance, Suspense, Gore, And A Lifetime Opportunity to Act. Get a Chance To Work With Famous Celebrities! Sign Up for Auditions at the New Arts And Life Stage.

Adisa felt thoughtful. But also reckless. Reckless. Hm. She looked at the ad, staring at it for a few moments, before getting into her car and turning left, towards her house. Not to stay. No, to pack.

The Circus was calling her name. And New York City with it.
****************

So? Thoughts on Adisa? Is she a Snob like they say? Or is she something else? This was in her point of view, so please try and view her actions from an outsider's perspective first. Kay, thanks. :)

And now the story starts.

~Wolf