The sex villains
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My name is Charles Harrison Javier. Friends call me C.H. I’m a big and tall, somewhat good-looking young black man living in the city of Brockton, Massachusetts. A couple years back, I graduated from Brockton Community High School and these days, I attend the South End Institute of Technology or S. E. I.T. My high school days were dreadfully dull but my college days got way better.
In high school, I felt completely invisible. I stood six feet three inches tall, big and bulky, with dark brown skin and pale bronze eyes. The son of Joseph Javier, a Haitian-American Seventh-Day Adventist Minister and Elisabeth Montoya, an Afro-Latina civil rights lawyer. We live in a nice house on Brockton’s West Side. Not far from Shaw’s Supermarket and the Bank of America. Living in a town full of wild, outgoing and loud people, a shy guy like myself felt completely left out. Fortunately, my college days were better.
In May 2005, I graduated high school and in September, I enrolled at S.E.I.T. The place was not exactly huge but imposing. The school was comprised of eight dorm buildings and twelve academic buildings. The curriculum was dedicated almost exclusively to science, computing and programming. The South End Institute of Technology is a paradise for both nerds and geeks. As a computer savvy young man, I felt quite at home. I’m currently majoring in computer science, one of twenty five programs in which the school grants bachelor’s degrees.
The school was a rather promising place. Twenty eight hundred students, and fifty eight percent of them were guys. Actually, make that Asian guys. I hate to be stereotypical but Asians really excel at computer science. Hell, they’re just better academically than most Americans, period. They made up forty percent of the overall student body. Blacks made up twenty one percent. Latinos made up nine percent. Whites made up the remaining thirty percent.
I fell in love with my new school. The professors were really nice. Most of them anyway. The school started fielding Division Three Intercollegiate Sports during the 2002-2003 academic year. This was thanks largely to a ten-million-dollar donation the school received from a distinguished alumnus. I guess it pays to have friends with money. So far, they offered Men’s Varsity Baseball, Basketball, Rowing, Cross Country, Soccer, Swimming, Rugby, Volleyball, Tennis, Lacrosse, Golf, Wrestling, Ice Hockey and Football along with Women’s Varsity Softball, Basketball, Tennis, Cross Country, Soccer, Swimming, Lacrosse, Golf, Wrestling, Ice Hockey, Rugby, Field Hockey and Volleyball.
Why did I mention that? Simply because some of my best friends were student-athletes. My roommate Aaron Stentor, a tall, light-skinned guy of Hispanic and African-American descent, plays for the Men’s Baseball team. He’s a pretty cool guy. Gave me a tour of the campus my first day. We ended up becoming best buds. Our relationship was tested when we both vied for the affections of this gal named Samantha Villeneuve, however. Samantha was something else, folks. A six-foot-tall, busty and big-bottomed, caramel-skinned black chick with the prettiest face and finest ass I’ve seen in ages. She was all that and then some. The first time I laid eyes on her, I knew I had to have her to myself.
Unfortunately for me, Samantha Villeneuve fell into that category of women who are simply unapproachable even for the smoothest of players. She was the Captain of the Women’s Rugby team. The Women’s Rugby team was the elite of female student-athletes on campus. These gals were like the Amazons of Ancient Greek Mythology. They were tall, good-looking and strong. I’m serious. They worked out like crazy and pumped iron like the burliest of male student-athletes. These were some bodacious beauties who looked like they could actually kick your ass if you got out of line. Like many guys on campus, I was intimidated and also turned on. These Superwomen were quite protective of their Queen, the lovely Samantha Villeneuve.
Back at Brockton Community High School, I spent too many years living the life of a geek. Seriously. Having an IQ of 160 didn’t impress the females, though it won me a scholarship to a good college. I was determined to seriously improve my social life in college. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a clue how to do that. A lot of people mistake me for a college football player because I’m big and tall. The truth is that I couldn’t throw a ball to save my life. The only guys on campus who were getting play from the sexy college chicks were the manly Jocks, the smooth-talking and well-dressed Players and the Thug wannabes.
So, here I was. It was November and I was still living the life of a single guy. My computer science classes were alright, I guess. I was taking five of them. I had A’s in every course. I felt bored. My most challenging class was my Business Ethics Class. There were eleven guys and seven females in that class. Most of them were boring as hell. One of them, however, was the lovely Samantha. Sitting on either side of her were Aaron and myself. I guess this was a recipe for disaster. Two best friends competing over the same female. But whatever. What did I know?
Every single time I tried to holler at Samantha, Aaron would try to cut in. Samantha seemed to be feeling him. I guess it’s only natural. Since they’re both athletes and all. To make things worse, Samantha did notice me. But not the way I wanted. She saw me as a friend. She kept inviting me to her parties, where she and Aaron would be making out like crazy in front of everybody and I’d feel invisible, envious and humiliated. Great! As in not! I ended up playing the role I hated the most. Third wheel. Playing left out. You can see how I could find that a bit stressful. The gal I wanted more than anything was going out with the guy I considered to be my best friend. What’s a guy to do?
I decided to bow out gracefully. If Aaron and Samantha wanted to be together, then I wouldn’t stand in the way. I told them both I was happy for them. They were thrilled to receive my blessing. And thus they became the Golden Couple on campus. If you don’t know what that is, just think about it for a second. At your high school or college, there must have been one couple that was so cute, so smart and so popular they made you want to puke. Well, that’s what Aaron and Samantha were like. I tried to be happy for them but I couldn’t. Especially since they kept rubbing my face in it time after time.
I tried to ignore their less than playful jabs at me when we were in class or at the dorm. I even tried to ignore them. It wasn’t easy, especially since Aaron was my roommate and Samantha visited him all the frigging time. I focused on my school work. I’d get my degree from S. E. I. T. soon enough and then transfer to M.I.T. to get my Master’s. The world of the future will be run by men like myself. Visionaries. Geniuses. That’s what I am. So who cares if some hot female jock is banging my best buddy after rebuffing my advances and rubbing it on my face? I certainly didn’t.
In the books you read or movies you watch, bad things happen to good people and quite often those good people are rescued by a hero or somehow the bad person gets what he or she deserves. In real life, it doesn’t work that way. Quite often, bad people get away with stuff. I tried to move on. Really, I did. I moved out of the dorm and back to my parents house. Just to get away from Aaron and Samantha. I even went on a few dates with other gals. I approached this gal named Megan Edwards, whom I knew from my Honors Programming class. She was around five-foot-ten, somewhat chubby but pretty in the face, with light bronze skin, blonde-white hair and pale blue eyes. This lovely dame was half English and half Italian. She was cute, and brainy. Oh, and she had a big booty too. Yeah, I’m an ass man. Deal with it. Plus, I had seen her playing World of War-Craft in the back of the class when the professor wasn’t looking. And she also read Spiderman comics. Any chick who lov
es comic books and video games is worth knowing.
And so I moved on with my life. Megan was pretty cool. It was fun to know there were other nerds like me out there. I didn’t know there were female nerds. Outside of Cynthia from show about a genius with a whacky family made up mostly of rude guys, a crazy mom and a nut-job dad. Megan and I had a lot in common. She attended Boston Latin Academy prior to enrolling at S.E.I.T. and she was gifted with computers, mathematics and numbers in general. There’s a gal who spoke my language. We’d spend hours goofing off playing video games online and also discussing superhero hype. She was a fan of Superman and couldn’t understand why I thought the Hulk would totally kick Superman’s ass in a fair fight. I mean, Superman is afraid of green stuff and the Hulk is a green monster. Need I say more?
Yeah, I was in love. I honestly didn’t know there were women out there who enjoyed going to Star Trek Conventions. I mean, I knew nerds like myself routinely dragged their girlfriends to conventions but real female fans of science fiction were as rare as unicorns. At least as far as I knew. Megan proved me wrong in that regard. She loved the stuff. We’d spend hours discussing who would win in a fight, the Klingons of Star Trek versus the Storm Troopers of Star Wars. Or if Darth Vader could beat the Highlander in a swordfight. She preferred the X-Men’s Wolverine to DC’s Wonder Woman, which I found odd because female comic book fans usually liked female characters. Megan surprised the hell out of me by siding with the guys, nearly ten times out of ten. Folks, I was madly in love!
I introduced Megan to my parents. My mom was surprised that I brought a white chick home. Not angry, just surprised. My mother doesn’t understand these things. Most black college women refuse to give young black men a chance. They judge us before they know us. They think all black men, including black college men, are no good. They don’t think we’re worth anything and they love putting us down. With a woman outside the race, a brother has a fifty-fifty shot, just like any man. With a sister, the brother starts us with minus fifty. You feel me? Cool. Megan liked me. I liked her. That’s all that mattered to me. My father was just glad to see me dating a gal. I swear he thought I was gay. One time he walked in on me and I was ‘using my hands in a private manner’ while watching Brokeback Mountain. Dad’s eyes went wide. The man thought I was gay!
Let me explain. I don’t have anything against gay people. I’m a firm supporter of same-sex marriage. However, I’m not gay. Or bisexual. Or even curious. I like women, pure and simple. I just wish women liked me. Anyhow, when my dad walked in on me that time, I wasn’t watching Brokeback Mountain. I was watching a steamy black porn flick ( strictly guy on girl and girl on girl stuff ) in On-Demand while gratifying myself. When I heard dad coming, I clicked the remote and it went to Brokeback Mountain. Instead of catching me watching guys and girls going at it, dad thought I was watching a gay romantic movie. In spite of my protests, he never stopped believing his only son was queer. Isn’t this comedy of errors funny? I’d laugh if it weren’t happening to me.
Anyhow, my parents were glad to meet Megan. Dad especially. I swear he wanted me to marry her! Megan joined me and my family for Thanksgiving Dinner, along with Easter. My parents liked her. I met her parents when they came over during Winter Break. Her parents, Lionel and Amanda Edwards were a couple of software engineers living in Milton. She had an older brother, Larry, majoring in bio-engineering at M.I.T. and a younger brother, Junior, at Boston College High School. They were a pretty wholesome bunch. Made me feel quite welcome. Yeah, life was good. I was doing good at school. I had a sexy, wonderful and quite nerdy gal as my girlfriend. Life was good.
Unfortunately, when Spring Break came, things got hot. Pun intended. Dad surprised Megan and me by offering us a trip to Cancun. Isn’t he cool? My dad is the best! Megan and I were surprised, but we took him up on his offer. We got on a plane and took off for Mexico. Cancun, here we come! Our first night there was magical. We had three grand as spending money. We got into a hotel, and made passionate love all night. My first time, folks. Yep. I was in Cancun with the gal of my dreams. Life was great. Then someone came along to mess it up.
For years, Cancun has been a favorite Spring Break locale for vacationing college students from all over America. Still, I thought the odds of Megan and I running into Aaron and Samantha in Mexico were astronomical. I guess it was written in the stars or something. For somehow, they ended up staying at the same hotel. Is that weird or what? Megan and saw them on our way to the beach. I don’t know why but seeing them together seriously pissed me off. I wasn’t jealous. No sir. I’m not the type of man who looked back. Megan was a smart, capable and quite beautiful young woman with a bright future. We were both career-oriented high achievers. I could see myself as a big-shot CEO someday and her as a company president or major shareholder. Aaron and Samantha looked good together, but they weren’t our caliber. Not by a long shot.
Still, it pissed me off to see them here, in Cancun. This is my vacation. Um, mine and Megan’s. Paid for by my father. This place was mine. They had no right to be there. Megan saw how upset I was, and asked me about it. I didn’t tell her anything. When we went to bed that night, she kept trying to find out what was bothering me. At first, I didn’t want to say it but I eventually relented. I told her about my friendship with Aaron, my crush on Samantha, and how they both treated me badly. How I moved out of the dorms and back to my folks house. All because of them. Megan simply sat next to me on the king-sized bed and listened to my sad little spiel. When I finished, I looked at her sadly. She simply hugged me, and didn’t say anything.
The next day, we went for a tour of Cancun. Mexico was a beautiful country. Kind of reminds me of my father’s native Haiti in many ways. Mexican men and Mexican women were proud, hard-working and God-fearing. They had such a splendid, heroic history and fascinating culture. We roamed the Yucatan Peninsula, getting by using a Spanish language book and what I can only call Spanglish. We had fun. We dined in nice restaurants. We swam in lovely beaches. We chased each other on the grass. We made love in a restaurant restroom. Yeah, life was good. Eventually, though, we returned to the hotel. And ran right into Aaron and Samantha.
It had been some time since I spoke to either of them but they recognized me. Aaron smirked and Samantha gave me the kind of look one gives monkeys at the zoo. Megan stood by my side, and offered them an icy smile and a handshake. We made small talk for a couple of minutes, before wishing them a good vacation and walking away. Aaron invited Megan and I to join them for dinner. I wanted to refuse but Megan said yes for the both of us. I couldn’t believe it. I stared at her, feeling betrayed. She winked at me, and we walked away.
As soon as we were out of earshot of Aaron and Samantha, I confronted her. What in hell did she think she was doing? Megan glared at me, and calmly asked me not to raise my voice to her. In that moment, I saw something cold and dangerous in her usually warm and friendly blue eyes. I lowered my voice, and told her that enduring being in the same hotel as them was one thing, I didn’t want to have dinner with my ex-best friend and my former crush. Megan said I had to confront them and grow up sooner or later. Then she said nothing and I followed her back to our room.
I sat alone in the gallery outside our hotel room, looking at Cancun below. I pulled a red and black lighter from my pocket, and began flicking it. I saw a piece of paper on the floor and lit it up. Watching it burn, I felt myself becoming calm. I would get through this. It wasn’t a big deal. Back
in my youth, I used to have a bad habit. I loved fire. I loved it the way some people love chocolate. It simply thrilled me. I loved burning stuff. Not maliciously. Not important stuff. Just paper, and pieces of wood. I’d watch the stuff burn for a few minutes, then put out the flames, get rid of the evidence and move on. I’m not a pyromaniac. I don’t destroy stuff maliciously or hurt people. I simply love fire. It soothes me.
I came back into the room, and found Megan sitting on the bed. She had a strange look on her face. I looked at the lighter in my hand, and the burnt piece of paper. I shrugged. She said nothing, and went to the bathroom. I lay in bed, trying not to think about the ordeal having dinner with Aaron and Samantha was going to be. Seven o’clock came faster than usual, at least from my viewpoint. Megan and I showered separately for the first time in days, and got dressed. Then we went down to the dinner hall to meet with Aaron and Samantha.
Aaron approached us, dressed like a tourist in a Hawaiian shirt and jeans. Samantha looked damn hot in a red tank top and a tight-looking and very low-cut blue skirt. I got caught looking at her by Megan, and that same cold look from earlier appeared in her eyes. She smiled at Aaron and Samantha, and we sat together. Samantha and Megan are two very different women. Like night and day. One is a star athlete, the other is a science whiz. Yet they made small talk and laughed like old friends. Aaron and I weren’t so…well, we weren’t like them, that’s for sure. We talked about the nonexistent good old days, and NCAA Basketball, and whether the South End Tech Football team could beat powerhouses Bridgewater State College and Worcester to take the Division Three crown in New England next year.
And so the evening went. When all was said and done, Megan and I parted from Samantha and Aaron’s company. We smiled and wished them goodnight before going back to our rooms. I wanted to go to bed but Megan told me there was a fiesta going on outside. Some local festival. I didn’t feel like going. So I stayed in bed. She scoffed, then got ready to leave. I felt lonely, and bored. See what Aaron and Samantha were doing? They were messing up my relationship with Megan. I heard myself wish they were both dead. Out loud. Megan stared at me strangely, but said nothing and left.
I lay in bed, thinking about my life. I’m not a bad guy. The worst thing I’ve ever done was burn this arrogant bastard named Roman back in Haiti. He was the son of wealthy Haitian-American businesspeople. They were associates of my father. I met him and his parents while vacationing in Northern Haiti with my parents. Roman constantly teased me about being a chubby guy. In those days, I was a lot rounder and quite sensitive about it. He teased me relentlessly. To the point where I wanted to cry. Something inside of me snapped that day and I remember grabbing Roman, beating him up and then burning his hands and face with my lighter. It took three people to pull me off him. My dad gave me the beating of a lifetime and had me on a plane to the U.S.A. the next day. I never knew what became of Roman or his family.
For years after that, my father never looked at me the same way. He put strict restrictions on my activities and social life. As a result, I felt awkward around my peers. He constantly reminded me that I was a danger to others. So I wasn’t allowed to join peer groups. Not even the Chess Club. It’s only in college that I found freedom. People like Aaron and Samantha walked all over me and I let them because I didn’t want to be a monster. I knew what I was capable of. I knew I had darkness inside. Sometimes, though, I felt like letting it all out. still, I couldn’t. If Megan ever found out what I’ve done, she’d leave me. I’d lose my only chance at love. She was the only person other than my mother who treated me like a human being. I couldn’t lose her. So I would stay away from Aaron and Samantha. I wouldn’t explode around them. Pretty soon Spring Break would be over. We’d return to Massachusetts. Life would be back to normal. With those thoughts in mind, I fell asleep.
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