One of my friends here at college, Julie Taylor, is an exceptional gymnast and has been working out at the university for a long time even though she is barely 15 and still in high school. Since hurting my back I have been limited to assisting the coach. Julie is my chosen project. We have become good friends despite our age difference of eight years. She comes to my apartment to study quite a bit and I have been to her and her mom’s house with her several times for home-cooked meals.
Each time I have been there Mrs. Taylor has been very attentive, treating me strangely and remarking often on my appearance. The third time I was at her house we were having dinner. Mrs. Taylor commented, “Julie tells me that you have an unusual family tree, Kita". So we talked about my mixed heritage (one great-grandmother from Taiwan and another from Somalia as well as Turk, English, Russian and American ancestors). Then later, she touched me on the arm and looked at me longingly, "You have the most beautiful skin I have ever seen. Did you get it from one of your exotic ancestors?” As dinner went on she would reach over and pat my arm or touch my skin, all in all like I was a child her daughter’s age, or stroke my neck or face in some other way continually commenting how beautiful it was and how much she liked it.
We finished eating. Julie and I were about to go to the gym. Mrs. Taylor walked us to the door with her hand touching me in a friendly, escorting manner. She became a little bolder and placed her open palm on my midriff as my blouse raised when putting on my jacket. “I am sorry”, she whispered nervously, stammering an apology, “I was afraid you’d leave a-a-and I, well… I j-just wanted to see if that skin of yours is as soft as it looks… I-I-I mean s-somewhere else… somewhere that doesn’t show… y-you understand?” Mrs. Taylor was flushed in embarrassment. Julie seemed to be busy looking for something in the back of the closet, so, nonchala... Læs hele novellen
