My White Friend

DeShawn Jackson sat in the back of the high school classroom, tapping his fingers on the desk in time with the ticking clock on the wall. His eyes shifted between the clock and his best friend, Chad, who sat next to him, grinning like a kid who’d just figured out how to get away with something.

"Yo, DeShawn," Chad whispered, leaning in with that familiar, mischievous look. "What’s the plan for Friday? End of the week, you, me… some quality snack time?"

DeShawn shot him a skeptical side-eye, his brow furrowed in disbelief. "You mean… stealing?"

Chad’s grin only widened. "Not stealing. Liberating. Think about it—if we take the snacks, they’ll just restock, right? And that means new snacks for everyone. We’re practically heroes."

DeShawn glanced at Chad like he was speaking a different language. He shook his head, muttering under his breath, "This is Chad’s brain on ‘logic.’” Then, with a resigned sigh, he looked straight at the camera, breaking the fourth wall. “And yet, somehow, I always end up the one getting busted."

The bell rang, and the classroom erupted into chaos as students rushed to grab their bags and get out for the weekend. DeShawn shoved his books into his backpack, following Chad out the door with the weight of impending doom hanging over him.

The air outside was warm for an early afternoon in late spring. DeShawn and Chad walked side by side toward the small convenience store down the street. DeShawn had his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his nerves working overtime as they neared Sam’s Stop-N-Save.

"Look, man," DeShawn began, keeping his voice low. "You remember the last time we tried one of your 'brilliant' plans?"

Chad shot him an exaggeratedly confused look. "What do you mean?"

DeShawn threw his hands up in exasperation. "The grocery store! You remember the flour, right?" A quick flashback flickered in his mind—he and Chad running out of the store, both covered in flour, looking like they'd just been in a baking accident. And of course, DeShawn had been stopped by the store employee, while Chad had casually waved from the sidewalk like it was just another day.

Chad waved off the memory, smiling. "That was an isolated incident, alright? Trust me, this time, it’s a flawless plan. We go in, act casual, grab some snacks, and walk out. It’s foolproof."

DeShawn narrowed his eyes, still unconvinced. "That’s what worries me."

Chad slapped him on the back with enthusiasm. "Relax, man. I got you."

Inside Sam’s Stop-N-Save, the bell above the door jingled as they entered. The store was small, cluttered with snacks and drinks stacked high. The elderly clerk behind the counter eyed them suspiciously as they passed, his gnarled hands rubbing a cloth over the counter.

Chad gave him a wide, goofy grin and waved exaggeratedly. "Hey, just a quick question," Chad said loudly. "Between Powerball and Mega Millions, which do you think is the wiser investment?"

The clerk sighed deeply but, clearly bored, leaned forward to explain the differences between the lottery games. DeShawn, meanwhile, began scanning the shelves for his targets: chips, candy, whatever he could stuff into his hoodie pockets.

"Alright, grab and go, easy," DeShawn muttered under his breath. He moved quickly, his hands working in practiced motions, until—

Crash!

A display of candy bars toppled to the floor, sending wrappers and plastic everywhere. The store clerk’s gaze shot over to DeShawn, his expression darkening.

"Hey!" The clerk barked. "What do you think you’re doing over there?"

Chad, never missing a beat, stood tall at the counter and gave the clerk a reassuring smile. "Oh, no worries, my friend," he said smoothly, "he’s just testing the structural integrity of your candy display. Solid build. Top-notch craftsmanship."

DeShawn glared at him, mortified, as he quickly tried to right the candy bars.

Outside, with pockets stuffed full of snacks, DeShawn and Chad walked briskly down the street, trying to act casual. As they passed by the corner, a police cruiser slowly pulled up to the curb. The windows rolled down, and Officer Doug—DeShawn’s personal nightmare—stepped out. A middle-aged cop with a friendly, almost grandfatherly air, Officer Doug had a way of making DeShawn feel like he was always doing something wrong, even when he wasn’t.

"Afternoon, fellas," Officer Doug greeted them, tipping his hat as he strolled over. "What’s going on here?"

DeShawn’s heart skipped a beat, and his eyes darted nervously between Chad and the officer. Chad, however, was completely at ease.

"Hey, Officer Doug!" Chad said, flashing him his trademark grin. "We’re just picking up some snacks. Want a soda?" Chad handed over a can as if they were old friends.

Officer Doug chuckled, taking the soda with a knowing smile. "You’re a good kid, Chad. Y’all be careful now, alright?"

DeShawn froze. Officer Doug’s eyes lingered on him for a moment, more critically than usual. "And you, young man," the officer said, "mind keeping out of trouble?"

DeShawn shot Chad a look that was equal parts disbelief and frustration. Chad, oblivious, just waved goodbye to the officer as they continued down the street.

"Man, I love Officer Doug," Chad said cheerfully. "Such a cool guy. You know he’s, like, super into trains?"

DeShawn’s brow furrowed in confusion. "Why do you even know that?"

Chad shrugged casually. "I dunno. We talk about trains sometimes."

DeShawn muttered under his breath, "Must be nice."

Back at home, DeShawn snuck into his room, closing the door quietly behind him. He had just begun to unzip his hoodie to stash the snacks when the unmistakable sound of his mother’s voice echoed down the hall.

"Boy, what are you hiding in that hoodie?"

DeShawn froze. He looked up and saw his mother, Mrs. Jackson, standing in the doorway, her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed.

"Uh… science project?" he mumbled weakly, trying to look innocent.

His mother didn’t buy it for a second. "Take it out. Now."

With a reluctant sigh, DeShawn pulled out the stash of chips, candy, and soda cans. His mother’s face fell into the kind of disappointed expression that always made him feel like the world was ending.

"Didn’t I raise you better than to be out there stealing snacks?" she said with a sigh. "And you better not have been hanging out with that boy, Chad."

DeShawn looked directly at the camera, raising an eyebrow. "Funny how she always assumes it’s Chad’s idea. But she’s also completely right."

The next morning, DeShawn met Chad at his locker, still stewing over the previous day’s events. Chad, however, was as carefree as ever.

"Hey," Chad said, a glint of excitement in his eyes, "what do you think about breaking into the teacher’s lounge? I hear they got one of those cappuccino machines in there."

DeShawn groaned, slamming his locker shut. "Dude, I barely got away with my life yesterday."

Chad’s grin didn’t waver. "Hey, relax. I got your back."

DeShawn stared at him, skepticism written all over his face. "That’s what you said last time, and the time before that. And yet, somehow, you always manage to get away clean. Meanwhile, I’ve got Officer Doug, my mom, and probably the entire PTA watching me like a hawk."

Chad just shrugged. "Guess I’m just lucky."

DeShawn couldn’t help but laugh, even as he felt the weight of the situation pressing down on him. "Yeah. Must be ‘luck.’"

They walked down the hall together, the sound of their laughter echoing in the empty space. DeShawn shook his head, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "One of these days, I’m gonna come out of this clean. Just once. But until then… I guess it’s good to have… sighs… ‘my white friend.’"

End of Chapter One.