A SONG FOR YOU

An Interracial Love Story

She's a Dancer. He's a Rock Star. With everything going on around them, can they overcome everyone else's differences and just be. I know - cliche', but true. I was listening to Donnie Hathaway's A Song for You and that's where this story came from. It's nowhere near as dark as Missing, but I hope you enjoy it just the same. Please excuse any errors and thanks for reading.

P.S.: I've had hella hits on my other story but no comments. Let me know how you feel about this one and I'll keep posting if you like. So, without further ado...

Chapter 1

Camille sat on the couch dressed in sweats and her favorite oversized t-shirt, and crying while eating from a gallon tub of the best ice cream Ben and Jerry’s created – Turtle Soup, in the midst of a Waiting to Exhale moment and movie marathon with her big sister Antoinette, or Nette for short, and Monique. She would be working out extra tomorrow to get through all of this fat and calories. .

“I still can’t believe you’re sitting here crying over that white boy. He left you for a white woman. You should be thanking him. He wasn’t any good for you anyway. Besides, I don’t care how much cologne he wore, he always had an odor. You need to stop trippin.” Nette told her. Ugh. Here we go again.

Sniffing and dropping her spoon in the ice cream bucket and tossing it onto the coffee table, Camille turned and pinned her sister with the Look.

“First off, I’ve earned the right to cry. We were together for five years. Second, what do you mean by ‘not good enough’ he was a freaking corporate raider. How much more successful can you get?! And third, it doesn’t matter what color the woman was, at least it was a woman.” She said still pinning Nette with that evil look that passed down from every mother to their daughter. What Nette didn’t want everyone to know was the real reason that she and her fiancé Gerald broke off the wedding. He was the only man that everyone in the family would sing praises to high heaven as being the one who would finally pin Nette down to a home and family. Yeah well, walking in on your fiancé being fucked in the ass by your gay cousin wasn’t a scene that led to home and hearth.

“And further more Nette, I know you ain’t talking about Tanner having an odor when you where the one who brought home that African. Don’t get me wrong, I am all for supporting our people from the Motherland, but he was fresh off the boat coming up in mama and daddy’s house smelling like goats. You got a lot of nerve trying to talk about someone.”

“Well all I’m saying,” said Monique, “is I don’t have anything against you being with a white man. But what’s wrong with you trying to find a successful black man. I’m sure you’d stumble upon one just like you stumble up on the successful white men. Maybe the trouble came into play was that you guys didn’t have anything in common. He’s a corporate raider and you’re a black dancer – a good dancer granted, but a black dancer nonetheless. I think this was his way of telling you that you didn’t fit in and he needed to be with someone who did. You need to find you a man that will appreciate all that training you went through attending Alvin Ailey’s Dance School. A white man will never understand what an honor that is.”

Looking at Monique, all Camille could do was shake her head. Between having a grandfather who used to work and march with Malcolm X, a father who was a former Black Panther, and a mother who worked with the NAACP on the board to reopen the famous Emmett Till murder investigation, she didn’t figure she’d be getting any support for her dating preference. But could the girl have a little sympathy? She just had her heart broken and that was the most important

thing. Sitting deeper into her oversized couch, she just grabbed her ice cream and went back to watching Waiting to Exhale. She figured on of those ladies could feel the pain she was going through at the moment. “I don’t know why I called you two heffas anyway?” she mumbled.

---

Gavin was tired. They had been on the road for almost a year promoting their new album and he was tired. If he had to sit in another radio station booth or play another cover song in another club, he was just going to pack it in and go back to being a nobody. He was glad his band, Solstice, had caught a break and where going places, really feeling the blessings, really. He was just bone weary.

Fortunately, this was the last stop on the tour and it was home, Dallas, Texas. Their local following was large enough to rival any mainstream rock bands. The band consisted of his three buddies, Paul on bass, Marcus on lead guitar, Randi on drums, and he on lead vocals. Between the clubs they played and then getting their songs played on the radio first during the Underground Sound in the early hours of the morning and then during the morning drive time for the past 3 years, there where plenty of people to welcome them home. It was just a bittersweet welcome. He wanted to sleep in his own bed in his own house and Randi wanted to pawn off one of her castoffs to him. Let’s not and never bring it up again, thank you very much.

He was glad their night was over and he was headed home to his condo, without the groupie that that dog Randi tried to hook him up with. Hell, Randi got more ass than any of the guys did on their own. She was the one who clued them all in on the picking out the lesbians in the crowd. Randi had her own fan club panting after her at each gig.

Finally arriving home, he grabbed his bags out of the truck and staggered into the house. Bypassing the answering machine, because he’d already talked to his family after landing, and heading straight into his bedroom, he threw his suitcase in the closet. Stripping naked and taking a quick shower, the last thing he thought before sleep finally claimed him was he felt really glad to be home.