“I really just prefer to write letters in the beginning,” Jay said plainly.
But you’re so personable in real life, I wanted to say. I held my tongue.
Was I in a state of endless wanting for something to revive my enthusiasm for life? Had he picked up on it before me?
“Anyway, this conversation settles it,” Jay said, with a shrug. “I will see you at the dance.”
I smiled against my will and stood up to mind some other business. I couldn’t allow him to see me turning red, to see how much his invitation to escape the confining pens of work and school truly meant to me.
I started my cleaning again and began folding the chairs up onthe freestanding tables. All I said to Jay was, “I suppose I have no choice but to be there.”
And he looked more satisfied than he had all night.
Most of the lights went off, leaving his face half in shadow.
Mr. Kirby came from the back and looked at Jay. “It’s closing time, brother.”
Jay stood and gave us both a formal nod, but his eyes lingered on me. “If you would like to do something sooner, there’s a UNIA meeting later this week.” Jay pulled a flyer from his jacket and handed it to me.
This forced me to think back to Jordan’s offer—something I still felt guilty for considering, if only briefly. “Okay, sure.”
Jay was too nice for me to play games with him for money. All I really wanted was to understand him and discover why he seemed to carry weight on his shoulders, though he made it look effortless. Going to the meeting would be a way to get to know him better, andthatwas more fascinating to me than the offer of quick cash.
9.
For days afterward, I was buzzing with something foreign and light. But when I got back to Room 17 on Thursday afternoon, I instantly knew something was wrong.
The door was slightly open as if someone had been there. It looked like it was left that way on purpose. And as I stepped in, I saw the wreckage—drawers pulled open, clothes scattered across the floor.
My heart beat harder as I took in the mess and searched around to make sure my stuff was here. Most of it was... but the rest of the flyers I’d made for my paper... gone. Some rough drafts and notes I had for the content were also missing, and with them, my plans to shed light on the problems at school no one else dared to talk about.
I picked up one of my notebooks lying open on the floor. Its pages had been rifled through. Whoever did this wanted to put an end to my paper, and I already had a good idea who that person might be.
Charlie. He was one of the only people outside the Blue House who even knew about my intentions with this, who had both the power and the reason to shut me down. He’d mocked me ever since I arrived and was ready to ruin anything he saw as a threat to his world here.
I sank down onto the bed and looked at the floor.
Now what? I needed funds to print my paper—no way I’d be able to use theChronicle’s mimeograph if they were this against me. I’d nearly run through the spare money I made working for Kirby. Was there anyone else I could ask?
Well, there was one, but just thinking about it felt like betrayal.
What was spying, really? Was going out with someone, picking up on information, and telling someone else about it all I had to do? That was merely gossip, wasn’t it? Everyone did it.
Three hundred dollars for just a few pieces of information.
But what if... what if Jordandidsomething to Jay? Jay had been there for me. He’d understood me.
His invitation to the dance was something to mull over when I felt lonely, something to look forward to. We were building something, though I was not sure what just yet. If I gave that up for a quick buck, what kind of person would I be? A traitor—that’s what!
But I also couldn’t let Charlie win.
Tonight’s UNIA meeting would be a chance to learn from people who’d fought back against people bigger than Charlie—and won. If there was one place to find inspiration, it was there. The robber could wait.
Right now, I needed to see what strength looked like in real life.
The UNIA church was on 135th at 40 West. It was a big stone fixture with three floors and a big steeple that supported its Roman Catholic design.
When I arrived, a crowd of people out front was making their way in, but Jay was arguing with a guard. She stood even taller than him, like a pillar in front of the door, burly arms crossed.
