“Yeah,” I told her. “I just need some time and air.”
So, she let me go and off I went into Harlem to find someone other than Jay to occupy my time. Then we’d be even. The city was only a scary place to travel alone if you didn’t know where you were going. I settled on patronizing The Green Light by myself—why shouldn’t I? I’d gone with Jay more than once now.
I arrived by cab to the alley with our speakeasy, which stretched out more than you could see upon entry. And, with no one else here with me, I was able to explore its many rooms with reckless abandon. Deep in the recesses of the place was a pool table, lit only by a light that hung from the ceiling.
A boy caught my gaze before I even knew I was looking. I recognized him from my neighborhood. He was always boarding the bus alone.
Tonight, he was playing billiards, one leg hiked up on the table, shirt open just enough to show off his chest. He carried himself with such ease that it made me feel intrigued.
He held my gaze for a moment, sizing me up. That look made me feel something I hadn’t expected. There was a seduction in his glance, as if he were inviting me over without words.
“What you all dressed up for?” he asked as I wandered closer.
“A dance,” I said, barely meeting his eyes. “But it was no fun, so now I’m here.”
“Solids or stripes?” he asked, nodding to the billiards table, like it would remove my stress.
“Stripes.” I took a stick, twisting the chalk over the top, trying to calm the strange buzz of energy in my chest.
He stood up straight, looking me over. “Sure thing, cutie,” he said, casually.
Cutie.The word sounded foreign, awkward, like it didn’t belong to me. It stirred a little something—was it excitement? Discomfort? I wanted to think I could be someone people found attractive. But with the way Jay looked at me—sometimes his was the only attention I truly wanted.
“Alex,” he said, offering his hand. “I don’t think we ever met for real.”
“Nick.” I shook it, feeling his fingers linger a bit longer than necessary.
We played, each aiming and shooting, and I tried to concentrate on the game. But my mind wandered. Alex was charming, sure, and there was a freedom to him. He seemed unconcerned with school or work, like he’d been born for this pool hall, and I envied that sense of relationship with my immediate surroundings.
In the middle of the game, he came up and placed his hand gently on my chest, just below my collarbone, and leaned in closer. The noise of the juice joint faded, and for a second, I thought I could want this. I could let him kiss me, lose myself for a night, just to prove that I was capable of feeling something for someone else, like Jay could. But the more he leaned in, the more I felt the emptiness of it.
Even with this beautiful person’s hand against my chest, my mind was elsewhere—back to Jay, to the way he saw me. This touch felt surface-deep in comparison. Jay’s was down to the bones.
“Wait,” I said, placing a hand between us, as if jumping out of a trance. “I don’t want this.”
And even if I did, I couldn’t do this with people around. I wasn’t a confident kisser—I’d never been given one—and with a guy who was basically a stranger? No way.
“Oh, sorry,” he said, backing away. “Thought you were giving me signals.”
“Sorry. Thank you. I enjoyed the game.” I left the room and then the joint in an anxious frenzy, feeling embarrassed for the both of us.
I spilled into the alleyway and walked back to the sidewalk to catch a car. There were very few lonely walkers out tonight, especially not on this side. The establishment signs had gone dark, the cars were all parked and unmanned, and only the orange glow from the streetlamps offset the blue of the evening.
Did Alex and Jay and Daisy have moments of loneliness?They seemed so fantastic at socializing, but I was beginning to realize how common it was in life to find one thing on the surface and something totally different underneath.
I’d see to it that one day I had someone to see me home after a night on the town. We could discuss all these things! All my questions. Tonight, I’d make peace with my singular note, forming a tune of its own.
12.
Daisy was waiting by my door barefoot and still in her dress when I arrived home. “Just wanted to make sure you’d made it back,” she said, with concern. “I thought you might have taken off with Jay when you left, but then I realized he was still there.”
“What is Jay’s deal, anyway?” I asked, as I walked through the door into my room. “It’s like he’s in some sort of relationship with every person who comes up and asks him for his time.” I undid my tie and unbuttoned my sleeves.
“Jay is very popular,” Daisy said, leaning against the doorway and studying my emotions. “That’s how it goes.”
“He seems to have a crush on even you. Was there some history between you?”
“Not at all,” she said. “Did he say something?”
