"What?" Ethan says in his all too familiar deep, rude voice. Ethan has pitch-black hair, is 6 feet tall, with a solid build. His deep grey eyes are glaring at me right now. His jawline is so sharp I’m sure it can cut through anything.
"You hit me, spilling my coffee all over me," I say, pointing out the obvious.
"So, what do you want me to do about it?" he asks, like he’s done nothing wrong.
“You’re supposed to say sorry," I say in a duh tone.
"And why should I?”
“Because that’s what people with manners do."
"I know that, but you don't deserve a sorry from me."
"Wow. And why is that?"
"Because black bitches like you don't deserve it," he says with a sneer.
“I have told you times without number to stop calling me that,” I say, angry at his insults.
"Make me," Ethan says, taking a dangerous step closer. I don't say anything but hiss and walk past him. I don't know why I expected him to apologize. It’s Ethan, after all.
*******
Ethan is a young male about to get his first degree, he might look normal to the world, but don’t we all have our demons inside. Ethan has a problem that he feels hatred is the best way to cure it, but one lady proves him wrong. Adina is a beautiful young girl who is also about to get her first degree at the same university as Ethan. Adina is full of life and dislikes anyone who thinks they can bully her. Ethan is hell-bent on bringing hell down on Adina, and she is determined to shove it up all the way into his ass. They are both opposites, but they say opposites attract one other. 
What happens when a significant incident changes all that. How do these two different people deal with a feeling that is supposed to be forbidden to feel for each other?

The American

I cried so much, I was scared my eyes were going to fall out. My heart was stabbed a thousand times that day. The next day came, and I tried to talk to Ethan but got cold shoulders from him. I did not give up; I plan to try my best to explain to him what really happened that day, no matter what it takes. 


I am waiting at the door of his lecture hall. I finished my classes earlier than him today, so I have enough time to spare. Ethan and I might be studying the same major, but we still have different minors, so all our classes are not together. The clock hits five, and his class is over. I wait eagerly and nervously to talk to him. 


"Ethan," I say, trying to stop him before he leaves like always. He does not answer and keeps walking. I increase my pace and step in front of him to block his path. "Ethan, please hear me out," I say, praying that he agrees. He tries to walk past me, but I block his way. He does it again, and so do I. 


CHAPTER 22