"I am the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valleys. As the lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters." —Song of Solomon c.2 v.1-2

William Skye

She walked into the fast food joint casually enough. The world however has its ways to please—to tempt—without even meaning to do so. The woman was short, maybe five-foot-three, but offered hints to Spanish heritage like many of the Mexican's in the area. However, I could tell by her demeanor and how she walked that she was confident in her pale skin. Most of the 'white-Mexicans', as the rakes and donjuans around here like to call them crudely outside mixed company, were shy and looked like they slammed their faces in a tackle box with all the piercings they get. This woman didn't need that, she had the hourglass figure of a goddess. No, that's too strong, a faery? Then there was the brace on her wrist that just hits that odd protective core within a man. However, her eyes and the aforementioned confidence says that the brace isn't bothering her. She's a fighter, an overcomer.

Dear.
Lord.
God.
Jesus.
This girl is pretty.

After cutting off in the middle of my greeting, the girl smirked. She was reading me like a book now, she knew that I was eyeballing her and didn't let that bother her either. I cleared my throat saying, "Hello ma'am, how may I help you today?"

"Hey William!" Mason emerged around the corner, saying, "Put her on my tab."

Ah, Mason. There were two karate teachers in town that I knew of. One was Zen, which taught a point sparring style of karate. Then there was Mason renting out an old abandoned building for a good ole' Rocky-style gym who taught self-defense. Though girls were allowed to join, the largest group of chicks I ever heard of him instructing was some yoga or aerobics gig.

"Oh," I returned, "are you doing the aerobics class still?"

The woman gave Mason a curious look.

"No, I haven't done that in two weeks or so. Your brother coming to class tonight? Could use another teacher tonight."

"I'll make sure to ask," the door clapped behind them and I hurriedly explained to the woman, "my brother is a black belt, like the first or second in our style in twenty years. Mason usually foots the bill for the guys."

"Something like that," Mason confirmed, adding, "well we'll let you finish up with the customers behind us but when you get a chance we need to talk."

"Alright."

I took their order and then the next customer came up. My teeth grit as I tried to contain a groan. The 'customer' was no other than Mercedes. Tall, slim, black, ghetto and infatuated with me. No, not me, she just likes my face and heard from others that I'm a virgin. I'm a conquest, an item in a petty game of love.

Well love is war to me, and wars take serious planning.

"Heyy hottie~" her weaved and purple fro earned a weary glance from the woman with Mason before she went on to the soda fountain, Mercedes' voice dripped provocatively, "what cha doin' tonight?"

I almost said 'not. you.' but this woman is what I feel like Guinevere thinks I am: some promiscuous brute lead about by my pants rather than by my head. The truth is, I'm purer than Guinevere's last ex if gossip holds true. Regardless, if Mercedes were me, and I Guinevere, what would Jesus do? How would I act, to treat as I want to be treated? I forced a smile before saying,

"I'm sorry but I got plans for tonight. How may I help you?"

She let out an obnoxious laugh and raked her eyes over me. Her gaze hovered over my neckline and it took everything in my power not to glower at her. Apparently, leering wasn't a concern to her.

"Boii, why you actin' so childish? What are you doing tonight?"

I tried smiling wider so I didn't say 'children are easier to deal with than you, I'm eighteen and you are like twenty eight'. The anxiety this woman has been putting me through ever since I graduated triggered a natural defense mechanism: humor and laughter. I laughed, joking curtly, "Breathing and sleeping with three people: me, myself, and I."

'Dang,' I mentally chastised, 'I didn't put her down as gently as I would have wanted to.'

She hid insult well, but her eyes gave her away. The store is only so small, when Mercedes works here I can hear her obnoxiously loud voice talking smack about my work. Ignoring the fact that they themselves should be working as well. They think that I can't hear them when I do, they think I'm some innocent idiot. As a game taught me, 'innocence, is the illusion of life', I understood what they were saying. She probably thought that I was too stupid to take the hints when we first met but now? It's like 'no' isn't an answer.

"Can I join?"

I sighed, shaking my head saying evenly, perhaps kindly even, "Girl, girl, what would you like today?"

Her eyes drifted below my belt line and my body stiffened. Smiling at her humor she answered,

"Meat."

My expression finally flattened, the sexual innuendo or allusion or whatever seriously trying my patience. "Then I'll get you a salad Mercedes," I rung it up partially with dramatic flair, "is your sister working today?"

This time, she couldn't hide the strange disdain that oozed onto her face. It was there for only a moment before she perked back up. However she finally dropped it and ordered. She never did answer my question about her sister. See, I don't choose favorites usually, especially with these two, and that's because I hate them both equally. No, I disdain them, hate and love to me are extreme.

If I ever came out and said I hated someone then I'd be practically praying hellfire onto them. The opposite? When I tell that special someone who I love (besides Jesus) then we are almost practically wed.

However, if I say I love burgers then that's pretty universal isn't it? Who doesn't like a good burger? Just thinking about that made me hungry.

By the time I got Mercedes out of my hair Mason and his lady-friend's food was on the side. I chucked some fries on the tray and took their food out to them. The store wasn't that big, so I had to pass Mercedes as she gave me the stink eye. Mason and his friend were deep in discussion about something.

"So Esperanza-" Mason started, "how long were you planning on staying here? I assume that you were planning on getting a job to help your friend with rent?"

"That's a pretty name-" I blurted, before giving them their food.

She smiled and rested her head on her fist, propping her elbow on the table and looking at me, "Thanks, but my friends call me Hope."

"Oh William, I didn't see you come up. Were you about to go on break? You seem a tad busy." He discreetly flicked his head towards Mercedes.

"Yeah one sec~"

After delivering Mercedes' dine-in order in a to-go bag, Mercedes yelled after me as I started for the restroom.

"Boi, do you seriously think Jesus would be so childish?"

Of all the eighteen finite years of my life I've never heard someone say 'boi' and 'childish' as much as this woman. Even I could come up with more colorful insults for dolts and ignoramuses who dress louder than audiobooks. Did she seriously try and guilt trip me about Jesus? From past conversations with her I feel pretty confident she possibly hasn't even looked at a Bible. That's part of the reason I try so hard to be nice; for some we're the only Bible people will ever see. Paul taught Christian to live peaceably with all people... with as much lies within the person and I'm running out at the moment.

"I don't know, is it a sin to call the Pharisees liars, vipers and hypocrites?"

Once I emptied my bladder, I returned and Mercedes was thankfully gone. Good grief, that woman is getting on my last nerve. She's been antagonizing me, backbiting me, and harassing me for months. No, has it only been a few weeks? Once the reality of that woman being gone sank in I let out a sigh of relief.

A small part in me worried that she'll just sum up my refusal to the age old argument of color. It wasn't anything I couldn't handle. Despite what people may say, Booker T. Washington is my favorite moralist and our church is rather close to the Sharon Southern Baptist Church, an all black assembly. However, it was more of a hand of outreach rather than that of close fellowship.

Glancing over at Mason and that woman–Esperanza–I noted the perplexed look on her face. I've told Mason about the issue, but this woman might be thinking that my little tiff with Mercedes is proof of those notorious Texan stereotypes. Then there's the rumors around town about Pentecost and our church school. There was also the supposed brainwashing rumor but all the untrue and hateful rumors has been combatted into oblivion by the good report of so many others in town.

I also noticed her hazel eyes and impeccably smooth skin. Any red blooded man would have a bit of trouble tearing his eyes from the smooth of her neck and... whatnot. Sure, every man has a type. I heard of a guy who dated larger women until they lost weight because larger women were simply his type. Me? I like S.A.M.'s: Short-Awesome-Mexicans.

Then there's Guinevere but she's as white as white could be and sometimes she acts like every evil melodramatic diva antagonist in shows like High School Musical. The mere reminder of Guinevere almost-almost made me lose my appetite. Getting permission to go on break, I ordered some food and went to sit down with Mason. Sipping from my soda I addressed Esperanza across the table, "I'm sorry you had to see that. People here aren't as chill as they were in Houston."

"It's alright," she said, a smirk and a fixed look on her face, "I'm usually pretty easy to get along with."

I smiled back, "Now what was that," my Texan vernacular acted up, "that you needed to talk about Mason?"

"Ms. Esperanza here was needing a place to stay, do you think KK is renting?"

The look I gave him in reply was doubtful.

"She doesn't rent," I explained, "she's just a spinster that lets the church girls stay at her place from time to time. You know, so they can do hair, gossip and talk about boys."

"Esperanza's a down and out veteran."

The woman discreetly glanced at Mason but said nothing. I sighed, saying,

"My family helped out a down and out family before but that was before our former President jacked up insurance in general. My dad employed the guy in the oil field not long afterwards."

The woman exhaled and gave me a relieved yet brilliant smile.

"That's... exactly what I need right now."

I cringed, hating to be the bearer of bad news, "Well, my dad wouldn't be able to do that anymore. And the biggest employers around here are 'Wally-World' next door. Also known as Wal-Mart, Sonic pays more than minimum wage but the easiest place to get into with the highest wages is the spot you're sitting in ma'am." I added, "Unless you got a car, then the Tywin Plastics plant always has good paying work from what I hear but it's... environment isn't suitable for most girls though. A manager here used to work there, tough little thing, but couldn't stand some of those guys."

She scrunched her face in unbelief making the smile disappear. "The fast food industry is the number one employer in this town?"

"Yep, almost everywhere else you pretty much gotta be kin to get in."

Esperanza murmured a curse and thought a moment.

"Do they have applications?"

"They don't do paper applications anymore sadly, you'll have to go online."

Mason chimed in, reminding us of the original topic saying, "Well, she'll need a place to stay."

"I know, I know, hmm," I said, leaning back and thinking a moment, after a sigh I said, "here, I'll give you KK's address and then you can go talk to her in person. It might help if you let her know I sent you."

"You can text it to me," Mason said, "we'll go ahead and get out of your hair."

A/N: Remember, these are slightly altered events and people from my life. If I appear to seemingly feed one stereotype it may just be the sad fact that people I have known fit in the box perfectly. For example, the Texas stereotype that everyone eats barbecue and drinks tea but predominantly sweet tea? Yeah, that's like my entire church XD Even in Florida, my ex was like "you don't like tea and you're from Texas?!"

Soda all the way! Don't forget to vote if you enjoyed!