" You liar." I rolled my hazel eyes and grabbed my hair in my left fist. "You got a rubber band or anything? My hair's gonna totally get in the way wh...n we make out." I'm not lying," he told me, getting off his bed. "I've made out before. I just never met a girl like you, that's all." Like me?" I scrunched up my nose. "What's wrong with me?" Uh ... Nothing," Jimmy said. "Just, I never knew a girl who got naked like ten minutes after she met a guy." Oh!" I widened my eyes and stuck out the tip. It became clear that the white judge had some sort of personal grudge against Claude, a vendetta against him for reasons he knew not. It scared him a little knowing that one white man was out to get him, an institutional form of lynching that not only lost him the slam but also frustrated him to the point of stepping off the stage and confronting the judge face-to-face. When he did so, the crowd cheered, because it had all the trappings of a Friday night fistfight. The judge didn’t seem too. More

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