I met him where he was. He poured something and then handed me a glass.
“Try it,” he said, his voice lowered now, like he was letting me in on some secret. “I find a little juice gives it some added sweetness.”
I eyed the drink skeptically. “Surely, I can’t try this.”
“Why’s that?” Jay asked.
“Liquor makes people stupid!” I whispered. “Andyou stole it!”
Jay laughed at my reaction. This posh boy with his perfectly pressed shirt, his charming smile... a drink thief? What was this? I had no idea what was real anymore.
“I couldn’t possibly have stolen it,” Jay said. “Did you miss the part about this juice joint thriving by the power of my father’s money? And who says liquor makes people stupid? I drink it and I’m quite smart.”
“My grandmother,” I said, and realized a moment later how it sounded. Who brings up their grandmother at a juice joint?
Jay took a sip of the drink and shook his head with pleasure. “More sweetness for me!”
Okay, he was out of his mind, so my weirdness blended in, in a way. Half of me liked it, and half of me was afraid I’d get myself killed by being with him any longer.
“I hate to run off,” I said. “But I should be finding my cousin.”
“Of course. That is what you came to do—my apologies for disturbing your stalking mission.”
Stalking?I believe I saidspying.
“What’s your name by the way?” Jay asked, before I could retort.
“It’s Nick.”
“I’m Jay.” He held out his hand.
“Of course.” I shook it, my fingers bunching together in his grip. “Nice to meet you, Jay, and to see this place. Who knew there was such a population of proud cross-dressers in New York?”
“It’s only the beginning of what you’ll find here, friend.”
The wordfriend... well, that struck something in me. It was as if a string in my heart had been out of tune and the sound of that word made everything musical again.
Jay noticed the pause it gave me. He seemed pleased by it. Again, excitement beat through my chest. I wanted to stay. But I couldn’t.
I still didn’t know what Daisy was doing—where did she go? Since she’d taken such good care of me upon my arrival in Harlem, I needed to keep an eye out for her to make sure she wasn’t getting into real danger. It’s the least I could do. And that responsibility couldn’t live side by side with becoming a patron of a juice joint, of all places!
I averted my eyes from Jay, gave a slight wave, and turned to go on about my night.
5.
The memory of that night lingered long after I returned home. The image of Daisy moving goods from car to car played like a silent film, raising questions about the secret life she led. But when her bedroom door stayed shut the following nights, I got calmer, thinking her nighttime jaunt was a onetime deal and there was nothing to worry about.
I didn’t have time to go chasing after shadows, anyway. I had my own affairs to focus on! I was about to step into something I’d wanted but also feared—a fresh start at a new school.
Come Monday, I took a cab to West Egg Academy, armed with a satchel of notebooks and pens, and a suitcase with enough clothing and toiletries to be situated for my first week.
The school rested on the cusp of Harlem and the Upper East Side, in this no-man’s-land between the poor and the upscale, where tons of empty lots were just waiting for builders to lay new foundations. One of these foundations was this school.
The cab let me out on a quiet road framed by towering mapletrees, their leaves ablaze in yellows and reds. I lugged my suitcase from the back of the trunk and looked up at the entrance. An iron sign arched elegantly between two weathered stone pillars, the wordsWest Egg Academyetched in old cursive within it. Beneath the arch, a brick walkway flecked with leaves stretched toward the grounds.
Campus was as clean and regal as I’d ever seen a school, with a manicured field encircled by four massive brick buildings that seemed to belong to a bygone era. Bordering the field were outdoor hallways, with open sides supported by stone columns, which featured signs that readAfternoon Welcome Events This Way.
I followed the signs to a main office, where four other Negro boys were waiting in the hallway. They looked up at me and then back down without speaking. We were all new and kept to ourselves. I took a fifth chair, folded my hands over my bag, and waited for the principal, Mr. Dennis.
