Juicy Robinson was the color of sweet black licorice, of a charcoal briquette soaked in lighter fluid and no one was going to make her feel like she wasn’t the sexiest thing around—not the white people that her mother had taught her to distrust and certainly not the homeless white man that watches her from the alley.
This is the story of a woman that spent much of her adolescence being bullied because of her dark skin and weight until circumstances forced her to stand up for herself. Now, as an adult, Juicy has grown into a woman that is filled with anger and a distrust of whites instilled in her by her mother. After an altercation, Juicy finds herself rescued by an unlikely individual; a white, homeless man that she has thoughtlessly nick-named; ‘Mr. Cracker.’ After exploring mutual stereotypes and attempting to understand their differences, Juicy and Mr. Cracker find themselves drawn to each other. Out of a sense of loneliness and true friendship the two outcasts finally find something deeper than friendship and their journey to self discovery begins.
"Don't, Juicy. We can talk without getting mad at each other. I like you...and I just want you to understand me." When she didn't answer he slowly released her hand and took a step away from her. "I guess it doesn't matter." Troy rubbed his hair, ruffling the damp ringlets. Then he shrugged. "There are two worlds. I live in the invisible one and you live in the real one." He raised both palms up in defeat. "Those two worlds don't mix."
Juicy thought before speaking. "I agree with you that there are two worlds, maybe even more. I don't know exactly where I fit in. I'm not really a part of either. Maybe I'm crazy. I guess I am. But I'm trying. I'm trying hard not to judge you. You saved my life-"
"Now you want to save mine?"
She nodded slowly.
Troy secured the fold in his towel then pulled her into his arm. "I don't need to be saved, Juicy, because I'm okay with me."
She closed her eyes and relaxed against Troy's warm body. He squeezed her firmly and carefully nuzzled the side of her head with his chin.
"I can take care of myself..." He paused. "...and if you need me to, I can take care of you, too."
"What does that mean?" She lifted her head quickly to look at him.
He stared at her for a long time before answering. "What do you want it to mean, Juicy?"
"I don't want it to mean anything, Troy." She backed away from him…
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