I was just passing my locker when the final bell rang, and that meant speed round was starting. And this semester Mrs. Conners was getting tough. Well... tougher. She was docking points for every "uh," "ah," or other unnecessary pause.I stepped into the office. Melissa Bates, a senior I knew to say hi to, was standing behind the counter, buffing her nails and reading a magazine. Mr. Reed was sitting on the extra desk, chatting with Mrs. Hatcher. I walked up to the counter. "Hi, folks." Tony, you. But with her by the hand was a tall and muscular black guy. Why is the picture unusual? Because it is almost impossible to meet a black person in these places. And I thought maybe some foreigners. The couple sat down nearby and opposite me on a bench. this sight aroused my great interest, because it is not some kind of charging cyclist or runner. I watched them. They were sitting and just talking, but at some point the black guy started kissing the blonde's neck. I felt a strange sensation that. More

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