Cool Square
May 1, 1968
by Janine Stephenson
Benjamin passed me a note this morning, asking if we could still meet for lunch. So I wrote a note and asked him to meet me in a secret place. But the place we ended up wasn’t so secret. We met in our normal spot – the break room of the hotel.
At least none of Benjamin’s coworkers bother us. They make raunchy jokes occasionally, and then apologize. No one seems to notice. But then again, maybe they think we’re just friends.
Maybe we are.
Craig told me not to worry so much about the campaign. We aren’t running from President. Besides, if we don’t admit it to reporters then no one will know. I asked him if he was planning to do anything about those hateful girls. He said he’d bring it up with Ron. But then, I asked him not to do that. I don’t want to create trouble.
“Is this thing with Benjamin serious?” He asked me. I said that I didn’t know. Because I don’t.
It’s not like Craig and Becca, who’ve now been together for four and a half months. I know they’re serious and I know Becca went all the way with him. I can tell that he’s over the moon with her because he’s very considerate of her. That’s not to imply that boys aren’t considerate of girls. But he’s far more considerate than polite.
Benjamin is both considerate and polite. He cares about whether I’m comfortable or how I’m feeling. He says that I’m special. He’s never liked a white girl in that way. He never thought he would.
I never thought about dating a black man because there just weren’t a whole lot of black men around. Who knew that something like this would happen?
Not me. I’m a square. Benjamin says that’s true, but I’m a cool square. And that’s what he likes about me.
