Blonde Girl, Black School

Molly had always loved volleyball. She was tall, slender and athletic, and, filled with energy, loved throwing herself around on the court. She was usually the best girl on the team, from junior high right up to her senior year in high school.

She grew up in a small town in Louisiana, and her parents didn't have a lot of money. So as she approached her final months in high school she was looking around in hopes of landing some kind of job, maybe a cashier or a waitress. It didn't occur to her to go to college until the guidance counselor at school suggested it.

The very idea you could get a full scholarship just for playing volleyball was, she thought, ridiculous, and anyway, she didn't think she'd stand a chance. She might be a star player at her school, but like a lot of schools in Louisiana, her school was pretty heavily segregated. There was only one black girl on the team.

Whenever they played in tournaments they got creamed by other teams. Molly was five feet ten, which was awfully tall for a girl, but a lot of those other girls were well over six feet tall! Mr. Ross knew what he was talking about, though. He had her apply for the thing, and much to her surprise, she was accepted by Xavier.

“Uhmm, isn't that a Black school?” she asked doubtfully.

“It is a historically Black college, yes,” Mr. Ross said. “But it's not an all-Black college. There are a lot of white and Hispanic students. About two thirds of the student body is Black, however. I know that would bother a lot of girls, Molly, but you've always been fairly liberal minded.”

And Molly was fairly liberal minded. But she was still wary of the thought of going to a mostly Black school. It wasn't so much she had anything against Black people. She hardly ever even knew any, after all, her whole neighborhood being mostly White.

And it was a chance to live in New Orleans! And to take something that would give her a career! Mr. Ross said that if she went into the school of Pharmacy she could pretty much write her own ticket anywhere in the United States. There was always jobs available! And really good paying ones, too!

***

The dorm room was not exactly luxurious, but it wasn't awful either. The door to the room was at one end and the window on the other. Along the walls between them were two single beds, with two desks at their head and two wardrobes at their foot. It had a blue carpet on the floor, and a pair of small lamps on the desks with blue shades.

Move-in day was a big, adrenaline rush! What with unloading her stuff, and trying, with her new roommate Kai, to make the room look cozier. Kai wasn't Black. She was Korean, and barely five feet tall. In fact, there were a lot of Asians here, she thought, puzzled. Louisiana didn't have a huge Asian population so she wasn't sure why that would be.

But she managed to cram her clothes into the wardrobe without too much difficulty, and personalize her half of the room. She spent the first week getting settled in and then meeting her teachers, all of whom promised her she'd work her tail off if she wanted to graduate! Fortunately, Molly was a very detail-oriented person and had an amazing memory, so she figured she was ahead of the game.

Then she had her first volleyball practice, and life sort of went off the rails.

To start with, Molly was used to being a senior. And even before that, her height had kind of made her feel kind of superior when she was with other girls. She wasn't used to feeling inferior, or like a child.

But right away she realized that the freshmen were about as highly respected as they were way back when she was a high school freshman. The seniors had the experience and the skills and the training, and looked very suspiciously at the newcomers they knew would be the weak links on their team.

There were twelve players on the team, and this year, just two newcomers, including her. The rest were all returning, all knew each other, all knew how to play as a team. That made the freshmen outsiders, of course. Furthermore, her old height advantage didn't exist here. She was probably the shortest girl on the team, though not by a lot.

She was also the only blonde on the team. In fact, there were only three white girls on the team, including her, which made her feel even more of an outsider. She wasn't used to being a minority. She'd thought she was doing fairly well in her first week in classes, but nobody was paying much attention to her there – well, except the men, of course.

Men had always paid attention to Molly, much to her confusion. It wasn't, she was sure, that she was all that beautiful. She didn't have the big boobs her friend Tanya had, or the gorgeous high cheekbones her friend Amy had. Her hair was fairly nice, but nothing like those long, beautiful golden ringlets Sara had. Her eyes were blue, but not the stunning corn-shell blue her friend Kaitlin had.

In fact, with her being so athletic she'd rarely put much time into her appearance. Her hair was a really simple bob cut, shoulder length, curling in a bit a few inches below her egg-shaped face. She didn't do much of anything with it. It was parted sort of in the middle, but one side or the other was always spilling across her forehead or even her face since she didn't use any sort of spray or gels.

She had, she thought, a nice ass, and nice legs. She had, of course, a very flat, toned belly, and moderately sized breasts. No one would say they were small, but nobody was going to be doing double takes either.

But her skin was fair, while the other two white girls on the team, both seniors, had darker, tanned skin. The black girls, meanwhile, ranged from toast colored to nearly absolute black. Most were taller than her, most had broader shoulders and wider backs, bigger arms – which meant they could hit the ball harder.

Molly began to fear her scholarship might be part of some sort of affirmative action program for White girls! Coach Frallick made it clear at the start that the freshmen were unlikely to play much at first. And that they'd have to impress her and the team captain Jasmine before they'd ever get off the bench.

Jasmine was six feet two, with very black skin and very short hair. She was pretty enough, Molly thought, and looked very strong and dangerous, moving like a panther.

Molly wasn't usually intimidated, but she certainly felt intimidated during practice! Nevertheless, she was determined to give her all. It quickly became apparent she didn't have the strength of some of the other girls.

On the other hand, she seemed to be a lot more nimble, and had great reaction speed. She was also more gymnastic than the bigger, heavier girls, and reached balls they never could have. She could sense the attitude of some of the girls on her side of the net becoming more friendly as the practice went on.

When Jasmine slapped her butt after she made a spectacular save it wasn't made as a reprimand, and Molly laughed as the tall girl winked at her. Impressing Jasmine gave her a sense of exhilaration. She was team captain, so if Jasmine accepted her then chances were just about everybody would.

The coach called it a day, finally, leaving everyone sweaty and panting, and they headed for the locker room.

That was a narrow room with lockers running up one side, and a bench before them. At the far end was the bathroom, with half a dozen stalls, and past that the shower stalls. She didn't rush, since she figured, correctly as it turned out, that freshmen were low dogs on the totem pole, and seniors got the showers first.

She was aware the very last thing she wanted to do, either here or anywhere else at this school, was give the impression she thought she had any sort of privilege, or that she was better or more important than anyone else. That would be jeered in a freshman anywhere, but particularly here, given her race.

That didn't bother her. She chatted with a couple of the other girls in the locker room, exchanging the usual stuff about what they were taking and where they were from, and if they had boyfriends or such.

Not all the girls were especially welcoming, though. Several showed no interest in her, and their eyes didn't look very friendly when they lit on her. In the week she'd been at Xavier she'd come to recognize that sense that they felt only Black students, or at least, students of color ought to be there.

Her best attitude, she thought, was to try to be perky and friendly, and pretend not to notice the occasional snotty comments or sneers.

She and Raven, the other freshman girl, were the last to get into the showers, and several of the girls had already dressed and left by the time she pulled the curtain across the little stall and removed her towel.