“In passing,” Daisy said. “I mostly go to UNIA because it’s nice to be part of something that feels bigger than myself. And bigger than high school trifles, you know?” She looked at Jay as if he were the trifle. He was busy inspecting a stall of exotic fruits.
“How long have you known him?” I asked. “Jay, I mean.”
Daisy glanced back at me. Her eyes were somewhat evasive. “A while. Why?”
“You seem close,” I said. “I mean, you two fit together.”
“Fittogether?” Daisy’s expression turned briefly pensive before slipping back into its usual light air. “Jay and I both have big ambitions and he’s useful to know—that’s all.”
Her words only deepened my curiosity.What ambitions?
She laughed softly as she saw my mind turning, and she rubbed my back with a supportive hand. “You think so much, Nick! I have to go and ask Jay something now, but look around. Enjoy the sights! Enjoy the market!”
I stayed back as she scurried off, pretending to admire the produce, but my eyes lingered on the two of them. They shared something—a history, a purpose.
Daisy’s hand almost brushed his arm as she whispered something to him, and Jay leaned in to catch her words, his expression turning serious. What was the perfect pair talking about, and why did they need to leave me out of it?
Who was Daisy beyond the playful surface—and what kind of life did the charming Jay Jr. lead when he wasn’t playing schoolboy adventures?
Jay eventually wandered off, disappearing into a crowd clustered around a cart of imported chocolates. “I used to love these as a kid!” he called out, leaving Daisy standing amid the bustle of the market.
She wandered back to me, her smile dimming some as she studied my expression. “What’s on your mind, Nick?”
I hesitated, unsure where to start. “I’ve just been wondering... is everything okay with you?”
Her brow furrowed, just slightly, but she didn’t laugh off thequestion. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I don’t know,” I said, but my mind circled back to the night she snuck out. My night ended with Jay in the juice joint, but hers carried on, beyond the freight yard, and who knows what happened next? “It’s just... you’ve done a lot to help me get settled here and if there’s any way I can return the favor, I’d love to.” I gestured vaguely to the market, the people and their quiet transactions, around us. “This is all lovely, by the way.”
“I thought you’d like it.” She reached out to tenderly adjust the lapel of my jacket. She looked at me with a sweet smile, and for a moment I saw the Daisy I remembered from years ago—the one who used to bake cakes with me in Grandma’s kitchen, laughing as we tasted batter when no one was looking. “I appreciate the support, Nick. But I’m fine. Honest.”
“I only worry about you. After midnight, when you’re by yourself, things can turn. I’ve seen it happen.”
Daisy’s eyes widened for a moment but then returned to normal just as quick. “Don’t you worry about a thing, Nick.” She squeezed my arm. “I’m usually tucked into bed before trouble can find me.”
Daisy then looked off toward where Jay was talking playfully to a merchant, a clear dismissal. Whatever happened that night, whatever bond she and Jay shared, neither was meant for me to understand—not yet.
But one thing was for sure—in New York, staying small wasn’t an option. This rumble in my belly told my bones I was meant for far more than what I had. Daisy and Jay moved through theworld like two birds of prey, flying over a whole tundra that was theirs for the taking!
And me? I was still sprouting my wings. I’d been raised to be so humble because staying small was safer back home. Humble and quiet kept me alive! A boy like me couldn’t be reckless—not in Greenwood, where the Klan lurked like phantoms in the woods. Where their fires watched us like the devil’s eyes, waiting for a reason to strike.
But maybe I was due for a change. Maybe I was done keeping my head so low and pretending I didn’t want to be someone—someone bigger than I’d ever dared to dream of.
7.
Jay Gatsby Jr. never stayed in just one world.
Most days I spotted him alone, wandering campus like a lonely tourist. But sometimes he jumped from clique to clique with a fluid social grace that was hard not to envy.
I didn’t see him often—once a day, usually—in conversation with faculty or someone at an activities table, putting on a personable voice. He made the most of being handsome. He knew what he was and didn’t pretend otherwise, but he didn’t brag about it either. I think that’s why everyone liked talking to him.
Even if Jay had somewhere to be, he’d always smile and wave when he noticed me. We’d exchanged further letters even following Charlie’s taunting. Jay shared his fascination with carpentry and told me about how he was working on little animal pieces for fun—birds, tigers, and owls. How he liked working with his hands more than sitting in classrooms tossing around theories all day. I shared my love for poetry with him. How I often scribbledlines in my notebook when I needed to get emotions out, but had trouble finishing things.
Our letters created a secret world between us, one I kept hidden in my room. There, I yearned to share the depths of myself with a stranger, but always pulled back, unsure of how much to reveal.
I’d just left my dorm after tucking away Jay’s latest letter. I was passing through the outdoor corridor when I saw him approaching me from the field. He raised his hand for a wave, but someone cut in front of him shouting, “Hey, Nick!”
It was Charlie. He blocked me from viewing Jay, so my first instinct was to look around him, but he was so tall and present that I couldn’t.
