Chapter 6
1066 Words
Saturday Afternoon – Local Café Just Off Campus
POV: Bianca Lawson
The little café smelled like fresh bread and cinnamon, the kind of place that didn’t try too hard but still felt cozy. Bianca slid into the booth, tucking a rogue curl behind her ear. Of course, it bounced back out like it had a mind of its own. James laughed softly as he set down their drinks, and she caught that look again—the one that lingered a little too long.
He sat across from her, coffee in hand, but his usual easy charm was dulled today. His jaw was tight. His fingers restless.
She watched him quietly. Something was off.
BIANCA
“You gonna tell me what’s going on, or should I start guessing?”
James looked up, surprised.
JAMES
“Can I plead the fifth?”
BIANCA
“Not unless you’re hiding a dead body or planning to ghost me.”
JAMES (half-laughing)
“Neither. Though… I did survive an assassination attempt. Sort of.”
Her brow lifted, smile fading.
BIANCA
“James.”
He sighed, fingers running through his hair as he leaned back.
JAMES
“I told my mom about you.”
Bianca blinked. That wasn’t what she expected.
Her heart thumped, then stumbled.
BIANCA
“Oh.”
(beat)
“And...?”
He didn’t answer right away. Just stared at the foam on his coffee like it held secrets.
JAMES
“She's not on our ship at the moment but I think she can be persuaded.” He lied as he looked offside instead of Bianca
Bianca
"Saito, I don't like being lied to, look me straight up and tell me what happened "
JAMES (quietly)
“She said you're a black peasant who brings nothing to the table. Her exact words....I don't think she meant them".
There it was.
The slap she didn’t feel physically but felt down to her core.
Bianca stared at him, every part of her suddenly stiff. Her walls, ones she’d worked so hard to dismantle around him, rushed back like armor.
BIANCA
“Wow.”
JAMES
“I’m sorry. I told her off. I told her she was wrong, that you’re... you’re everything she’s not even capable of understanding.”
Bianca looked down at her hands. Her fingers clenched into fists without meaning to.
She knew this world existed. The one where her skin color walked into the room before her resume did. But hearing it spoken so directly? So... casually cruel?
It hit different when it came from someone’s mother.
His mother.
BIANCA
“She’s not the first to look at me and see nothing. But she might be the first to call me that out loud.”
James reached across the table, his hand gentle but firm as it closed over hers.
JAMES
“She doesn’t get to decide who I love, Bianca.”
Her eyes snapped up.
BIANCA
“Who you what?”
James blinked—then laughed, like he hadn’t realized it himself until just now.
JAMES (softly)
“I think I’m falling in love with you.”
Bianca’s chest tightened.
Because in that moment, between the sting of rejection and the sweetness of something real, she realized—she might be falling too.
But love?
Love with him wasn’t just a risk.
It was war.
---
Bianca’s Dorm Room – Midnight
POV: Bianca Lawson
The room was quiet except for the low hum of her desk fan and the rhythmic thud of her heartbeat in her ears. Bianca sat cross-legged on her bed, a psychology textbook open in her lap but forgotten. Her fingers idly twisted a curl as her mind kept replaying James’s words.
“A Black peasant who brings nothing to the table.”
She should be used to this. She was used to this.
The veiled microaggressions, the condescending questions, the stiff smiles that never quite reached privileged eyes. But there was something about hearing it from his mother’s mouth—someone who had never even met her—that sliced deeper than she expected.
Bianca stared at the flickering candle on her windowsill. Lavender and sandalwood. Supposed to help her focus. Instead, it made the silence louder.
She touched her lips unconsciously, still remembering the kiss. How it felt when James looked at her like she was more, not less. Like he saw her, even with her hair wild, even when she stumbled over her words or wore secondhand jeans.
But love? Was that real—or just a rebellion against his mother’s empire?
She didn’t know what scared her more.
---
Following Morning – Campus Lawn
She’d only just sat down on the bench outside the humanities building when the voice cut through the air.
UNKNOWN GIRL
“You’re Bianca, right?”
Bianca looked up, squinting at the sunlight behind the silhouette.
The girl was petite, sharp-featured, and dressed like a walking Vogue editorial. Japanese, by the looks of it. Polished. Perfect.
And familiar.
BIANCA
“Yeah. That’s me.”
UNKNOWN GIRL (smiling, but not friendly)
“I’m Naomi Takahashi.”
Bianca’s stomach dropped. The name was one James had mentioned once. Takahashi daughter—family friend. Future bride, if his mother had her way.
Naomi sat down next to her uninvited, legs crossed delicately, like she had every right to claim the space.
NAOMI
“I figured we’d meet eventually. James always had a soft spot for strays.”
Bianca’s jaw tightened. She didn’t rise to it—yet.
NAOMI
“You seem smart. So I’ll be honest. This? Whatever you think this is with him? It won’t last.”
BIANCA
“Because I’m not asian? Or because I’m not wearing a Dior scarf?”
Naomi laughed lightly, like Bianca had made a charming joke.
NAOMI
“Because you’re not one of us. You don’t know the rules. You think his rebellion means love. It doesn’t. It’s temporary. Just like you.”
Bianca stood then, because if she didn’t, she might say something she couldn’t take back. But before she walked away, she turned slightly, chin lifted.
BIANCA
“I don’t play by rules I never agreed to. And if temporary’s all I get with him—then I’ll still be the one he chose. Not the one who was assigned.”
She walked away with her spine straight, heart pounding.
And for the first time in a long time… she felt dangerous.
- Writer
