Dear Nick,
Thanks for writing back. I’m very sorry to hear your parents are no longer with us. I can’t imagine what that must be like.
My mother lives in London. My parents both went to university there, and Father wanted to move to New York after I was born, but Mother couldn’t stand the trouble that Americans give interracial couples.
Father is drawn to places he can help make better, but Mother just wants to be comfortable. I don’t know who I agree with more, but I am technically closer to Mother, though our communication is mostly through letters. Father travels often so I’m distant from him as well.
I feel like I’m drifting, not sure where I fit. I don’t know if that’s something you can relate to.
Yours,
Jay
I read over his words twice, the vulnerability standing out against the rough edges of most boys around here.
Despite Cannon’s accusations, I was quick to believe Jay’s own view of his father, even if their relationship is distant. But still...
I almost flipped the letter over and used its blank side to write my response inside my locker. But there were too many witnesses, so I didn’t. My one question for him would be,What is your father’s true occupation?
Was that too blunt? It was the first thing that popped into my head. A man who earned his wealth honestly would want to help others follow the same path, right? But his school’s programs didn’t seem to reflect that idea. They only gave a few of us the chance to learn skills that could lead to wealth. Maybe that was a flaw on his part.
Before I could question myself further, a figure emerged from the steam near the showers, calling out, “Okay, who here’s a virgin?”
It was Vinny, choosing to be confident suddenly, perhaps due to the pressures that came with being surrounded by a bunch of shirtless guys.
They all broke into laughter, and I quickly balled up the letter.
“Nick, for sure,” Charlie chimed in, grinning at me. “It’s the reason he and Jay are passing notes back and forth like a couple of schoolgirls.” A ripple of laughter went through the room.
My face burned, but I pretended the comment didn’t matter. Being the center of attention stung though. I hated it.
“That is what’s going on, isn’t it?” Charlie asked, his cold green eyes piercing through mine.
I tucked the balled-up paper into my bag. I’d give his words nothing and let them pass by. I didn’t know Charlie well enough to let him capsize me.
Jay, on the other hand, was visibly affected by it. He walked right up to Charlie and barked, “What did you say?” as if he still hadn’t calmed down from the other night.
Charlie didn’t back down. They stood chest to chest, chin to chin, in a ridiculous contest of who was tougher. “I said your little friend is a virgin,” Charlie pronounced. “Am I wrong?”
A crowd of eyes corralled them into an energy spotlight.
“Charlie,” Jay said, shaking his head. “The only reason you’d be concerned with that is if you wanted him yourself.”
Everyoneoohed at that one, but Charlie rolled his eyes.
“Come on, people. That wasweak!” He stepped toward Jay, staring him dead in the eye, and then their bodies were almost close enough to touch. “I don’t want your boyfriend,” Charlie said. “But I’m glad you’re finally making thekinds of friendsyou’ve always wanted, Jay.”
“Meaning what?” I said, making Charlie face me. Others turned to face me too, the room quieting as everyone remembered I was there. “What kinds of friends?” I asked.
He couldn’t answer right away. He laughed quietly and then looked at Jay. “Like father like son is what it means.”
“I’m not arguing anymore,” Jay said, and he slunk around bodies to leave the locker room.
I followed him. This situation would push him away before we really had a chance to become friends, and I was really enjoying getting to know him! More than I could say for most people.
“That’s right,” Charlie called after us. “Go and smooch each other in private!”
Jay stormed away from the ensuing laughter, going for the outdoor corridor that led to West Egg’s main lawn. He fell against a stone pillar as if he needed it to steady him. He pulled a tiny silver tray from his pocket and from that wrenched a shaking cigarette.
