XAVIER’S POINT OF VIEW

MAY 2015

“Xavier, we’re moving to California,” Mom and Dad said in unison.

It was that simple sentence alone that had brightened up my day after being humiliated and beaten up by nearly half of the students (and teachers) of Harriet Tubman Memorial High School. And it was at an assembly arranged by my sister Coretta who’s in her junior year at UT for the summer semester. The worst part of all is that hardly anyone there showed me any compassion for my troubles.

I had no one there as my friend. They all loved the code of the gangsters: no snitching, fight for what’s yours, make mediocre grades (C’s or D’s) and don’t do anything that is underneath their standards. To them, being smart is for the “White” folks, those kids who think they’re too good for any one of us Blacks.

I’m Black and yet I still make good grades. In my opinion, I have the right to make something better than myself. My main dream is to leave Cedar Valley (which is a predominantly Black community outside Fort Worth, Texas) and head for one of the Ivy League schools to study art and music.

And that’s what landed me in their blacklist.

Thanks to Coretta, I was constantly bullied and physically attacked by every student there. Even the other nerds got a chance to vent their anger out on me. And the teachers? Well, most of them thought I was just a jealous liar, saying that I need to be more like them and less like a “white man’s critter.” Only one of the teachers, my guidance counselor Mrs. Langley, thought better than that and had encouraged me to continue pursuing my dreams.

Only, she was fired on the same day I was publicly humiliated.

Not only that, after all of the drama and the mega-torture I received, I was deeply threatened by one of the neighbor’s kids named Riley Copeland, an ego-centric jock who sold cocaine with his father. “You’re doomed to die, Whitey, if you ever think of returning to our turf,” he spat, throwing a left hook to my jaw. “You’re not welcome here at Tubman High. Do yourself and Coretta a favor and leave here. Maybe kill yourself, to make it easier on us. You’re nothing but a sell-out.”

And it was that moment when I told my parents- my loving, supportive, and hard-working parents- the whole truth about what went down. They listened to every word that I said as I nearly broke down while discussing to them the threat against my life. And it was after that they had told me the simple sentence that would change my whole life forever.

“We’re moving to California.”

They explained that Dad had been offered a job at a prestigious law firm in a small town while Mom got a job offer as a junior accountant. It was a perfect opportunity that was complete with a new house that was fully paid for and lots of benefits. “Best of all, this is the perfect time for you to get a fresh start,” Dad concluded. “Look at it this way. You get to have a blank slate, though you already have one with no crime record, and you get to have the possibility of making new friends. What happened to you today was unforgiveable on so many levels. And your sister had made sure you had no chance of getting ahead at that damned school. It wasn’t right at all.”

“We just want you to have a good time at high school,” Mom agreed. “Coretta may have ruined your freshman and sophomore year, but now is the time to gain your junior and senior year.”

I nodded, taking a deep breath and wincing from the pain I felt from being kicked in the chest. “Are you sure that I can have a new start?” I asked.

“You only live once,” Dad replied, patting my shoulder gently as Mom handed me some aspirin and a glass of water. “You can never get your high school years back again if you continue to let your sister’s actions hold you back.”

It was settled. I didn’t know what was going to happen, but I was going to try to make the most of this second chance. “Let’s do this,” I said. “When do we leave?”

Two weeks later, the moving van was all packed up and my parents and I were in the SUV Dad was gifted by his old law firm. “You ready for a new adventure, Xavier?” Dad asked me as he backed out of the driveway.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I said softly as I turned on some Alicia Keys on my iPhone and sat back a bit.

“California, here we come,” Mom crowed as we left the spiteful streets of Cedar Valley and headed on the interstate leading to Crystal Pointe, California.

As I closed my eyes, I silently prayed. “Father, forgive my sister Coretta. She doesn’t know what she’s really doing. And grant us protection through the highways as we begin a new chapter for myself and my parents. But most of all, God, I pray that you show me a sign that my life will be better.”

Who would’ve thought that the move would’ve changed my whole life in so many ways and that I was to be a part of something that will affect me forever? If I had known then what I knew now, it would’ve been easier to deal with.

CORETTA’S POINT OF VIEW

MID-JUNE 2015

“You have liver cancer, Ms. Reeves. And it’s terminal.”

It’s funny how karma comes back to each and every one of us when we least expect it. And for some who deserve it, it’s even worse.

For me, well, it’s one thousand times the dosage when I finally took things overboard and had my brother humiliated and tortured at my old high school, right in front of everyone at an assembly to celebrate the last day of school.

But there was still a part of me that didn’t regret a single moment for what I did.

See, I was known to be a ghetto girl- a girl trapped in the bitterness of the streets of the black neighborhoods of most major cities. And in Fort Worth, Texas (if you’re a black teenager), your options of getting out are either basketball, football, or have a good support group that sees your talent. For me, I was in too deep with the local gang known as the Red Riders, who believe in making sure that no nerd (Xavier) gets a chance to make it out except through a body bag. And since I was a fellow and loyal member, I was given an opportunity to leave under the condition that my brother becomes their perfect punching bag.

And despite my better judgment and the nagging words of my overly righteous roommate, I agreed. I even had them pay the other teachers to falsely fail him and give him detention, just to make sure his life was nothing but misery.

Yep. I wanted my brother to make sure that he was miserable until he decided to stop being a nerd or he was buried six feet under. I believed that if my brother couldn’t be successful, neither could he. In a way, I was a gangster’s girl and proud of it. That is, until today.

But now, as I left the doctor’s office with Shauna, I knew that my time was finally winding down and I needed to ease the pain by taking pointless chemo treatments. But the most important item on the agenda was to track down my parents back home and beg for forgiveness.

“What now?” Shauna sked me as we finally reached our dorm room.

“I need to call my parents ad talk to my brother,” I said as I sat down. Just then, there was a knock on the door. “Who’s there?” I asked.

Shauna opened the door to find a young white woman dressed impeccably in all black step into the room. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled back in a near bin and her emerald eyes sparkled in concern. “Coretta Reeves,” she said.

“Who wants to know?” I asked.

“Lacey Vaughn,” she said. “I’m here to warn you about your brother Xavier.”

I put up a bold front, hiding my real emotions of remorse. “What about him?” I huffed. “The nerd should’ve been dead by now.”

“You think that now, but he might be a mindless super-solider.”

Super-soldier? “What are you talking about?”

The girl named Lacey took a deep breath. “Do you know anything about the Sentinels?” she asked me.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Aren’t they some superhero legend group in California?” I asked.

“Yep, but they are the real thing. But things aren’t what they appear, especially when they plan to take over the world.” She reached into the bag and handed me a manila folder that was filled with documents. “And they all start out with your brother and your parents.”

I took the folder and read the first page. And what I read next had left my blood running cold.

“Holy God almighty.”