Disclaimer: I do not own The Boondocks, Facebook, or anything besides Afrika and the plot.

Chapter One: Will Black Men Say Her Name?

Huey had been logged into Facebook for the past two hours. He was in a bitter comment war on a post of Sandra Bland. Had the world forgotten about her? She'd been unjustly arrested and murdered; nothing had been done about it. The mug shot, fake, the videos edited, he was so sure that the revolution would be then. Too many brothas and sistas had been murdered by police recently. It was time for change. But nothing happened. Life went on. More people died after Sandra Bland. More people would die. He was sick of Facebook as well. When he first created this page he wanted to inform his people and bring the truth. For years he did this. He over had ten thousand followers, supposed revolutionaries, but what good was information if there was no action? He was about to delete this page.

So we're just going to forget Sandra Bland existed? I'm tired of so called revolutionaries. Enough talk. Time for action. Otherwise what's the point of this page? #SayHerName

He got thousands of likes, a hundred shares. There were comments he agreed with, but it meant nothing. It was just Facebook. Words, but no action again. This was probably why the government did nothing to him for his anarchist views. They could trace his phone. He was using his real name. Nothing happened. That should have let him know how insignificant his page was. Right before Huey pressed delete, his phone alerted him to a comment. This one was against him. He was used to trolls, conservatives, and racists calling him out, but this one was different.

Mysterious Jenkins commented, "Admin has so much to say about what other Blacks should be doing, but doesn't take his own advice. How down can you be when you're dating a yellow bitch. #SoCalledConsciousBrothah"

"My girl is black, but that's besides the point. Were you following me for the right reasons?"

Mysterious Jenkins responded with, "Nigga please, I don't want you. You can delete this page if you want. It's your right, but don't act like it's our fault. Go tell that to your white bitch. We don't owe you anything. You talk big, but at the end of the day you're still a nigga. Even worse, you're a typical nigga. We like your comments, share then, take your advice, and yes, protest. Like most of your subscribers, it's predominately black women. We made your page just like we're the backbone of every pro-Black protest. How do you repay us? By shitting on us while you choose other women. The black woman and man should separate. Niggas are bringing us down. Minus Native American women, we are the first to be beaten, raped, and abused. We're the last to be married and the most likely to have children out of wedlock. Despite this we're the least likely to date non-Black men. Fuck that noise. I'm sick of standing by niggas who don't support us. Admin is no different. I'm unfollowing."

A few agreed with her. Somebody placed a picture of Jazmine next to a picture of a paper bag. Jazmine was much lighter than it. That moment got him. These assholes weren't going to mess with his girl. First thing he did was block Jazmine's account from his page. Then he deleted her pictures from the comment section. Lastly, he set Mysterious Jenkins and her cronies straight. "Colorism is for the weak. I understand your anger, but it's not with me." Many of his followers attacked her. They used her words, position, page, YouTube, and appearance against her. Mysterious Jenkins wasn't ugly, only by Eurocentric standards. She was a sinfully curvaceous size 10 woman with eyes as black as midnight and skin like coco. Her afro was only half his length, but well taken care of. Huey had never met her, but he could see why she felt the way she did. She wasn't lying. Statistically, black women were the least likely to be married and were very likely to face some form of abuse. Unfortunately the abuse happened at the hands of black men. Why she grouped him in that circle he didn't know.

He read her post again. Maybe he was just pretending not to know why she grouped him in that circle. Huey logged out of Facebook. He grabbed his jacket and walked out of his home. He shoved his fists in his pocket and walked down Timid Deer Lane. He hated this place. It seemed unreal. Each lawn, each home was well kept and similar. Across the street Uncle Ruckus was deicing the windows of someone's home. Uncle Ruckus was working so hard he didn't notice the young black man to comment. That pissed him off. Uncle Ruckus worked so hard just to get nowhere socially or economically. He was so blind; lost in loving the white man despite the way they treat him. Huey thought about that, had he embraced the system too? No, he didn't buy slave made clothes or things from bullshit celebrities. He didn't eat GMOs; he stayed away from products from terrible corporations. He bought locally and supported black business. However he had the money to do these things. What about the average African-American? People were just trying to live. He had the means to do more. Perhaps he had been too hard on his followers.

Without thinking Huey had made it to the Dubois house. Huey texted Jazmine to let him inside. A few seconds later the door to the Dubois home opened for him. Jazmine stood in the doorway, greeting him with a smile. Huey almost smiled back. Most people would find Jazmine Dubois beautiful. Her skin was flawless, smooth, free of blemishes and the color of sugar cookies. Her eyes were large and a beautiful, spring green. She was a slender size 3 and dressed trendy. She had a large auburn afro tied back into a ponytail. It was her only African feature. "Go tell that to your white bitch." How'd he never notice?

Huey forgot about these thoughts when he walked into the Dubois home. He definitely wasn't thinking about Facebook when he walked into her room. The moment Jazmine climbed on his lap, he wasn't even thinking about the struggle. Huey wrapped his arms around her waist and looked into her eyes. She shuddered, "I'm glad you're here. I want you."

And she would get him. Huey placed her on her bed and unzipped her pants. He peeled the magenta jeans off her tanned legs. Jazmine blushed and instinctively closed her legs. Huey put his hands under her top, touching her until he took off her shirt. She closed her eyes. The feeling of his lips on her body multiplied. He kissed her lower until he got to her thighs. Huey took off her panties and spread her legs. Goosebumps prickled her thighs and legs. They'd done this hundreds of times, but it stayed electric. He straightened himself up and placed his lips against hers. He knew her body. He knew that she came by him sucking on her clit. He knew avoiding that area intensified her orgasm. He knew that he was her first and only. He knew that once she came in his mouth he'd fuck her until the same happened to him. He knew that once he was done Jazmine would reach for him and tell him she loved him and that she'd return the favor next time. Huey knew next time she would. He knew that he would tell her what happened today and that she wouldn't understand, but she'd support him with everything she had and would see the bright side of things. Even though that trait annoyed him, he couldn't help but love it. Her happiness was infectious. Every time the world brought him down she picked him up. He loved her.

Huey woke up when Jazmine placed an outfit for church on her bed. "Good morning, Huey."

Huey looked up to see Jazmine bouncing around the room with perm rods in her hair. She was wearing black shorts and a yellow bra. Even when she wasn't trying, she was irresistible to him. "You should pretend you're sick, stay home with me."

"No, I must go to church!" Jazmine hugged herself. "I need to be forgiven of the sin of last night. Fornication is adultery, adultery is against the ten commandments! Jesus is weeping, Huey. Jesus is weeping!"

"Jazmine, you've been fornicating for three years. You're eighteen, you can't still believe-"

"Hey! I didn't try to convert you, don't try to convert me." Jazmine put her hands on her hips. "Besides, if we get married one day then it'll be alright." Huey shook his head. He couldn't believe there were so many people who believed in Christianity; it was even stranger to him when they were black. Jazmine jumped on his lap and kissed him. "I promise I'll give you something really good if you come with me."

Huey smiled. "Oh yeah?"

"Yes."

"Well I'll give you something nice if you'll stay."

Jazmine kissed him, but got off his lap. "I'll see you when I get back then. And I'll be different this time, I'm going to resist you." She looked at Huey's muscles and turned away. 'I will resist him!' She started taking the perm rods out of her hair. She frowned. The curls weren't what she pictured. Some were perfect. Others coiled counterclockwise instead of clockwise. Some didn't coil, but curled inward. Jazmine wanted to scream. "Why can't I get this right?!" She threw the perm rods down. "I hate my hair," she muttered. Huey frowned. He hated Jazmine thought that way. She grabbed her laptop. She went to YouTube and went to one of her subscriptions. "How did she get her hair so perfect?"

"Hey y'all. It's Mysterious Jay here-" Huey popped up. That name, it couldn't possibly be Mysterious Jenkins from Facebook. He went to his Facebook and then looked at Jazmine's screen. It was.

"You watch this?"

Jazmine smiled. "Yes. I have 4C hair. Without Mysterious Jay's tutorials I couldn't do anything to it minus a ponytail. I tried perm rods... I need to know what I did wrong."

"It looks fine."

"You're a boy. Of course it looks fine to you. Look at her hair and look at mine. God, she's so pretty. I'd love to be her friend." Huey knew the feeling wasn't the same; Mysterious had seen Jazmine and only thought two things of her, 'Yellow bitch, white bitch.' Huey would keep that a secret. Jazmine would be crushed if she knew. She pulled one of her curls. "I guess I can put it in headband." Jazmine, placed the screen down on her laptop and got a headband. She picked out her hair and put on her dress. She put studs in her ear and grabbed her Bible. "You should check her videos out. You might like her. She talks a lot about race and stuff. Her last video was really sad. Her boyfriend cheated on her and said she was too dark, which I don't understand because she's so uplifting." Huey squinted his eyes. Jazmine couldn't be that dumb. Her boyfriend left her for colorism not personality. "See you later. Don't forget to turn on the alarm, mommy and daddy don't know you're here."

"Uh huh"

Jazmine blew Huey a kiss and ran downstairs. A minute later he heard the car leave. Huey got out of bed and started stretching. Then he got into a perfect handstand and started his modified pushups. After his pushups, he went to Sara's treadmill and ran three miles. He was deep in thought. He couldn't deny that he loved Jazmine; however dating a biracial girl wasn't his preference. He did prefer sistas, the darker the better. He loved seeing them in afros, bald fades, or dreads. He loved the variation in shape and tone. He loved their thickness even when they were fit. He loved brown eyes. Huey loved black women! He believed in the one drop rule; so even with Jazmine's white mother he saw her as black. Maybe that was naive thinking.

It had always disgusted him when brothas like Tom Dubois chose to be with white women instead of a sista. He thought about niggas who chose white women without beauty, personality, or ambition, but paraded them around as if they were trophies. It was even worse when they procreated. Then the next generation was poisoned with the idea that white is right. The African-American community was diluting. Huey was helping.

He was with Jasmine Dubois, a naïve girl more white than black. If she straightened her hair she would be able to pass. Jazmine didn't understand politics, didn't know the state of the world; she had no idea nor could comprehend what Huey fought for. She was sweet, but so were many other sistas. Why her? Beauty, even in the African-American community, was defined by Eurocentric qualities: long straight hair, light skin tones and eyes. He hated seeing sistas with perms and dye jobs. He loathed every time a darker sista would be rejected for her butterscotch counterpart. However, for three years he was with Jazmine, the girl who was the embodiment of the Eurocentric ideal: long hair, tan skin, light eyes, thin, submissive, naive, and girly. Maybe Mysterious Jenkins was right.

He was selling out.

(A/N) I am redoing this story.

Next Chapter- A girl who fits Huey's perception of beauty enrolls into their high school.