The Death Of Innocence
by Kittie

Zachary Taylor walked into his new high school full of confidence. He wore a big smile on his face, and walked with a swagger he'd perfected just before graduation the year before. Since his family had moved to Angel Grove from his native Washington, DC less than a month before, he hadn't had time to meet many people yet. But now was as good a time as any!

He found his locker and begin lining the inside of the door with pictures of old friends and crushes: the biggest poster was the one of Deniece Williams, the singer. Her voice was so powerful, it gave him the chills! Plus, she was easy to dance to.

Someone came up next to him and started to open the locker. Zack turned and gave the newcomer, a smallish boy with freckles, his most dazzling smile. "Hi!" he said, "I'm Zack Taylor."

The boy glared at him. "Wonderful," he said icily. As Zack watched in confusion, the boy turned back to his locker and muttered something under his breath. "Just my luck to get stuck next to a nigger."

Zack was taken aback. _Did he just say what I think he said?_

The boy noticed his stare and sneered at him. "What are you looking at, boy?"

Zack looked at him coldly. "My name is Zack, not boy."

"I don't care what your name is. You're just a dirty nigger." The boy turned around and stalked away.

Zack looked around and saw a bunch of people around him. Some were trying to hide their laughter behind their hands, but more looked after the freckle-faced boy with disgust. Zack headed straight for a group of them. "What was that all about," he asked indicating the boy's rapidly retreating back.

One of the kids, a tall boy with blonde hair, shrugged. "Whatever, you know," he said.

Zack stared blankly. "Um... yeah, whatever." He turned and walked to class. He was starting to feel like this move had maybe not been such a good idea.

* * *
Zack found himself scrutinizing the student body of Angel Grove High. An overwhelming amount of the students were white. Normally this wouldn't bother him, but the experience with freckle-face had shaken him. His old school had been racially mixed, and race had never been a problem. The administrators liked to say that they had represetatives from every country in the world at that school, and Zack supposed they were right. But here in Angel Grove, there was a world of difference.

Zack's normally confident swagger had become a self-conscious slump, and he was disgusted to realize he was categorizing people by the color of their skin. _Way to go, Zack, you're becoming just like them!_

Lunch rolled around and Zack was in a decidedly nasty mood. Freshman year was supposed to be cool. He had been so happy to move to California. No more freezing winters, close proximity to Disney Land, and a home in a beautiful suburban neighborhood. It was such a far cry from the modest brownstone the family had owned in DC. He sighed and headed toward the Juice Bar. "Hey, kid," someone said.

Zack turned around and saw a smirking black kid about his age behind him. "Hi," Zack said, relieved to have finally found another brown face. "I'm Zack."

"I'm Tyrone," said the kid. "You a freshman?"

Zack nodded. "Is that a problem? I've heard stories."

"Hey, you're a brother!" Tyrone shrugged. "I don't care how old you are! We're eating lunch outside. Come on!"

Zack followed, clutching is lunch bag tightly. _Who's "we,"_ he wondered to himself. He knew the answer the minute he walked outside. There were four black kids sitting in a half circle on the grass, laughing and talking. _Oh._

"Hey guys," called Tyrone, "We got another one!"

Zack winced. _Another one?_

Tyrone led him to the small group, and they all smiled at him. "This is Zack," Tyrone told them. "He's a freshman."

"Hi," said one of the girls. "I'm Angela."

Zack was immediately struck by her beauty.

"Paul."

"Lee."

"Yvonne."

They all greeted him, and Tyrone pointed to a free spot that completed the circle. "Here ya go, kid. Have a seat."

"Thanks," said Zack, feeling slightly uncomfortable. "So... what are we doing out here?"

Yvonne looked at him strangely. "What do you mean?"

Zack tried to clarify. "Well, mostly everyone else seems to be in the Juice Bar."

Lee made a face. "Who wants to be surrounded by all them white people?" He said the word "white" as if it hurt his tongue.

Zack was shocked. "I--" he didn't finish the sentence, deciding instead to simply eat his lunch in silence. Moving to Angel Grove had definitely been a mistake.

* * *
"So, how was your day, Zachary?" Jessie Taylor had noticed her son's sullen silence, and decided to open the can of worms that had obviously been his first day at school.

Zack scowled. "We never should have left DC."

Jessie shot a look at her husband, who simply shrugged. "What do you mean?" she prodded.

"Did you know there's only five black kids at that school including me?"

"Does that bother you?" Greg was surprised. Zack had never been one to preoccupy himself with race.

"No. But apparently it bothers them."

"Who's them?" Jessie was getting more confused by the second.

Zack sighed, playing with his mashed potatoes. "Everyone. The black kids don't like the white kids, and the white kids don't like the black kids."

"What about the kids in between?" wondered Greg, but he was ignored.

"Zachary Taylor, you can't mean to tell me that every single white child in that school is prejudiced," Jessie scolded him. "There's no way you could have met them all in one day."

Zack considered this. "Yeah. But I met all of the black kids. And it was pretty obvious how they felt about it." He was quiet for a moment, constructing something that looked vaguely like a castle on his plate. "And how they wanted me to feel."

Greg shook his head. "That is a shame. That is really a shame."

_Tell me about it._ Zack picked up his plate and dumped it in the kitchen sink. _This is going to be a long year._

* * *
Zack walked into the school building, his usual swagger a mere shadow of what it had been. His confidence was shaken, but he was determined not to be beaten. _Maybe they want to play this like a game of Othello, but I prefer Chinese Checkers._ He laughed a bit at his analogy, but sombered immediately when he saw freckle-face standing in front of his locker. Freckle-face seemed to notice him at exactly the same time, and he quickly ran off in the opposite direction. _What the--?!_ Zack hurried to his locker, and blanched when he saw what freckle-face had done.

"DIRTY NIGGER LIVES HERE," was scrawled across a glaringly bright piece of paper taped to his locker. Zack angrily ripped it down and stuffed it in the trash can. "God-dammit!" Someone put a hand on his shoulder and he whirled around angrily. "What!?"

The boy, a tallish white kid with brown hair, jumped back. "Whoa! Relax buddy!"

"What do you want," Zack scowled, trying to calm down.

"I was just going to tell you to ignore him. Terry's always pulling shit like that."

Zack looked hard at the kid. _Is this guy for real? Can I trust him?_

The guy stuck out his hand. "I'm Jason. Jason Scott."

Zack warily took the outstretched hand and shook it. "Zachary Taylor. You can call me Zack."

"Okay," said Jason. He glanced over his shoulder at the clock. "Jeez, I'm late," he said. "I'll catch you later, okay?"

Zack nodded as Jason hurried away. _That was painless. Maybe I can do this._ He looked down at the trash can again and decided not to get his hopes up.

* * *
Lunchtime again. Zack passed by the Juice Bar and saw Jason, who waved him over. He looked toward the door and saw Tyrone, looking at him disapprovingly. Jason, Tyrone. Jason, Tyrone. Zack took a deep breath and went into the Juice Bar. "Hi, Jason."

"Hey. Siddown." Jason indicated the seat across from him. "The girls should be here soon."

Zack noticed almost immediately that there were two other seats at the table, on either side of him. "The girls?"

As if in answer, two girls approached the table. One was a lively-looking white girl with brown hair, the other a serene Asian with gentle eyes. "Hi, I'm Trini," said the Asian. "And this is Kim. What's your name?"

"Um... Zack."

"Hi, Zack," said Kim brightly. "Nice to meet you. Jason told us what Terry did, he's such a jerk sometimes!"

Trini agreed. "He called me a chink. And I'm not even Chinese! I'm a gook."

Zack choked on his milkshake. "What?"

Jason laughed. "She's Korean."

"Oh."

Kim was opening a package of fig newtons. "Where are you from?"

"DC," Zack answered. "We just moved."

"Wow, Washington, DC? Have you seen the White House?" Jason leaned forward eagerly.

Zack nodded. "Yeah."

"The Air and Space Museum?" That was Kim.

"Several times."

"The Library of Congress?" Trini breathed.

"Yeah."

"You are so lucky," she said, eyes sparkling. "I've wanted to see those things all my life!"

"Really?" Zack had never considered it anything special. He passed by most of that stuff almost everyday.

"Yeah," said Jason. "There's nothing important or exciting in Angel Grove. Just air."

Trini giggled. "Lots of air."

Zack found a smile beginning to widen his face.

* * *
Tyrone-and-company cornered him at his locker after lunch. "What was that?" Tyrone said accusingly.

"What?" Zack tried to back away, but he was already up against his locker.

"You were in the Juice Bar," said Yvonne, shaking her head.

"With those white kids." Lee again, with the same disgust in his voice.

"Trini's Korean." Zack attempted some humor, but it didn't go over well.

"You have got to respect your kind Zack," said Angela. "Don't ever forget where you come from."

Zack was incredulous. "How do you know where I come from? And why shouldn't I go to the Juice Bar? Jason Scott happens to be a nice guy."

"He's white."

"So?"

"White people are fakes," explained Paul patiently. "You think they respect you, but deep down they're all prejudiced. They can't help it."

Zack shook his head. "That's just not true. You can't lump all of them together any more than they can lump us together!"

"But they can, and they do," said Paul somewhat sadly. "We have to stick together."

"Divide and conquer," put in Tyrone sullenly. "That's their plan."

"There's no plan!" Zack burst out. "You act like there's some conspiracy!"

Paul shook his head. "You'll learn Zack," he warned. "I was just like you a few years ago. Naive and innocent. But you'll learn soon enough. They cannot be trusted." Paul turned and walked away without another word. Tyrone looked hard at him, causing Zack to wither under his gaze, and then he was gone too. Lee, Yvonne, and Angela followed, and Zack was left alone to wonder.

* * *
For the next few days, Zack avoided Tyrone-and-company like the plague. He ate lunch with Jason and his friends every day, and found himself having a pretty good time. He was walking home from a particularly good day when someone fell into step next to him. "Hello, Zachary," said the someone.

Zack looked over. _Oh, no._ "Hi, Paul."

"I wanted to speak with you." Paul spoke carefully, as if he had to think about each individual word.

"Yeah? What about?"

"I've seen you in the Juice Bar," Paul began. "With those white kids."

"Trini's Korean," said Zack. _Why do I keep saying that?_

"Whatever. Look, I have a question." Paul looked at him seriously. "Are you happy with yourself?"

"What?" Zack stopped short and stared.

"Are you happy with yourself? With your race?"

"Of course I am!" Zack was beginning to get a little angry.

"Then why do you insist on sitting with them? Are they better than we are?"

"No. We just have a lot to talk about."

Paul was aghast. "What could you possibly have in common with them?"

"For one, music. Jason loves Hip-Hop and Rap. And Kim can really dance. Also, food. We swap recipes from home. Trini brought us all lunch one day, an egg-noodle dish with chicken. It was really good. Then I had my Mom cook up some awesome collard greens, black eyed peas, and fried chicken. Kim ate so much she could hardly walk straight."

Paul was silent, considering.

"And we talk about lots of things. I tell them about DC, and they tell me about stuff they've seen. We just talk. Like you do."

"You just talk." Paul repeated slowly.

"Yeah. What else is there? You talk and you get to know each other and you have fun. That's it. I don't care what color they are, so long as we have fun."

"And you trust them?"

"What's not to trust?"

Paul shook his head. "Look at the history books, Zack. White people enslaved us, denied us our rights, killed us by the millions. How can you trust them?"

"Jason didn't do anything to me. Neither did Kim." He hesitated. "And Trini's Korean."

Paul was still looking at him. Zack found it rather disconcerting, but he held his ground. "Tell you what," he said finally. "You have lunch with us tomorrow, and you'll see what I mean," offered Zack. _They won't mind..._

Paul's expression didn't change. "All right," he said. "Tomorrow."

* * *
"Guys, this is Paul. He's eating with us today, if that's okay."

"Sure!" Jason said, smiling. "I'll get an extra chair."

Paul watched in silence as Jason dragged the extra chair to the table. "Thank you," he said quietly, and settled down to eat. Zack looked at Kim and motioned toward Paul, hoping she'd get the message.

She did. "I'm Kim." Paul looked up, and after a moment's thought, shook her extended hand.

Trini intoduced herself next, followed by Jason. They began their lunches. "Guys," said Trini, "You won't believe what happened in gym class today!"

"What?" said Jason curiously.

"This guy, I forget his name, he was having so much trouble. We were supposed to be running laps, and Skull kept deliberately tripping him. He must have fallen about seventeen times! I felt really bad for him. He looked like he was about to cry."

Jason shook his head. "Man! Why'd Skull target him?"

Trini shrugged. "Everyone does. He's kind of small, and he's not very athletic. But he's really smart. He sounds like an encyclopedia when he actually gets up the courage to speak."

"Whoa. He'd better cut that out unless he wants to get pounded," observed Zack, noting Paul's reaction to the whole conversation. Paul was just sitting there, watching.

"He does get pounded," Trini told them. "All the time. I don't think I've ever seen him without a bruise."

"Ouch," Kim winced. "The poor guy!"

"Yes," observed Paul suddenly. "I believe I know who you're talking about."

Zack looked at him, surprised.

"You do?" Trini looked interested.

"Quite small and with unflattering silver glasses?"

Trini nodded.

"His name is Billy."

"Yes, that's it!" Trini's face lit up. "Billy... Cranberry, or something."

Paul nodded. "Cranston. He and I are in the same math class. He is of quite a superior intellect, but his self-esteem leaves much to be desired."

"I noticed that," observed Trini. "I said hello to him once, and he actually looked scared!"

"You seem... pretty smart youself, Paul," observed Kim slowly. "You sound like an encyclopedia, too."

Paul looked surprised. "Do I?"

Zack nodded. "Yeah. I noticed it, too."

Paul looked at Kim somewhat curiously. "I see."

She looked a bit uncomfortable and stared down at her food.

"Is something wrong?" Paul spoke again.

She looked up. "You were staring at me."

"I'm sorry. I was just thinking."

"What about?" Zack challenged.

Paul hesitated. "Zack told me that you all were good friends. I didn't believe him, but it appears that I was wrong. I see no reason for him to cease seeking out your companionship."

Jason looked shocked. "You were going to... what he said?"

"No," Paul explained before Zack could speak. "He wasn't." Paul looked at Zack, seemingly deep in thought. "Apparently you are not as naive as I thought. I admit that I had oversimplified the matters about which we spoke. I will inform Tyrone that he is not to bother you again." Paul stood up to leave.

"Hey, Paul," said Jason, "Why don't you stay and finish lunch?"

Paul considered, looking around at all of their expectant faces. "All right."

End

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