Chapter 11 #2
Lately, Vinny and I had fallen into a natural rhythm with separate social circles, but we were still friends, and I appreciated
his presence here.
That is, until I spotted Jay skulking in the corner behind some balloons. His placement in the room struck me as odd. Handsome
guys didn’t usually sulk in corners.
He was spinning his fedora around his fist instead of wearing it—it was the only sign he was having any fun. He looked at
me because he must have felt me staring. He smiled but didn’t wave. We just watched each other.
“I’m gonna walk around,” I told Vinny and went to approach Jay tentatively.
“You came alone,” he said.
“I haven’t met a single girl at East Egg except for Daisy,” I returned.
“Ah. Did you know I liked her in grade school? My father always said Daisy was a fine young lady. But I’d always gotten the
impression she was too focused on other things for a relationship, which is why I never courted her.”
Now, Jay, why would you say this to me? I felt physical pain from his words, like he’d whacked me in the stomach with a paddle. But that was my responsibility, wasn’t
it? We were only friends.
The trips to Coney Island, The Green Light, his very own residence—all of that was just a way to show that rumors had no power to stop our friendship. The stir that I felt deep in my soul when he was around—that was something that I felt alone.
“I don’t think she’s too focused on other things,” I said. “You could try your hand at providing gifts.”
Jay raised an eyebrow. “You make your cousin sound so . . . materialistic.” His eyes drifted to watch Daisy dance with a boy.
“But I catch your drift. People like knowing you thought of them.”
“Precisely,” I said.
He looked back at me, squinting his eyes some. “Out of curiosity . . . what made you finally decide to come tonight?”
I shrugged. “I wanted to show I could be social and fun too, I think. But I’m quickly learning that places like this are not
right for me.”
“Well, I do think your energy would go further if it was aimed toward some other goal than showing people things.” Jay took
off his jacket and tucked his pinstriped shirt into his pants. “The design of this dance is beautiful, but the refreshments
leave something to be desired.” He checked his watch for the time. “I’ll have to find a drink instead. But first? A dance!”
Jay jitterbugged his way to the dance floor in a comical way. Had he ever been clumsy? Had he doubted his comfort with his
own body? Did he get sweaty and ugly when he danced?
I joined him on the floor. I twisted my feet a little, trying to lose myself in the music, but my dance was forced and the snaps too rehearsed.
We drifted toward each other, our snaps finding common rhythm.
Jay gave my hip a little bump, and I lost balance only for him to catch me by the back of my waist.
Jay grabbed my hand and tried to spin me around, but I did not spin. We would be ridiculed for getting close like this and
I wasn’t sure how much more I could take.
Why would you want me to do that? I asked with my eyes. He merely frowned in response. I don’t think he understood.
I ran off the dance floor and into the hotel lobby, avoiding eye contact with my peers. Jay followed as if it were his duty,
but he didn’t say anything even as I continued through the lobby. I stopped in the hallway of first floor rooms, where it
was quiet.
“So, you’re following me,” I said, without turning around.
“Well, yes,” Jay said. “We were dancing, and you ran off. What’s the matter?”
“Why did you . . . why would you do that in front of all those people?” I asked.
“Because I was dancing,” Jay said, snapping his fingers and kicking his foot, lightly. “You know, dancing? Having fun? Try
it sometime.”
“You made me look like a ballerina! A bisque doll!”
“Your head is made of bone and flesh—not porcelain—so it never gave the people that.”
I sighed. “I wasn’t supposed to be dancing anyway. If I may ask, please don’t touch me like that in public again.”
He looked at me as if to say, What’s the big deal? His look made me wonder if it even happened, if he really tried to turn me like a girl in front of a crowded room.
What was I to do with my hands under his stare? Jay made me feel out of place in my body and I wanted him to leave.
“Aren’t you supposed to be finding a drink somewhere?” I asked. My voice came out more hostile than I meant it to.
His face fidgeted between amusement and offense. “I guess so?” he said. “Especially if you’re trying to get rid of me.”
“No, I just—”
“Jay!” shouted a voice, and an East Egg girl in a white dress came running down the hallway. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”
This girl, who I’d never seen before, grabbed him by the arm and pulled him away. “Join me for a dance?”
He smiled back at her as if she were far more interesting than me. It hadn’t even dawned on me that he could’ve come with
a date. But there he was, paddling me again. Reminding me I was just another person craving his time, who he’d have to fit
in when he could.
Jay nodded and smiled at me, as if we had only just met. “See you around, friend.”
Friend? Really? How awful of him to walk away with someone else’s hand in the middle of our conversation! He invited me here, not the other way around!
I walked back to the ballroom, careful not to focus on Jay and his temporary girlfriend. But seeing him walk away with someone
else’s hand left pinpricks in my stomach.
I barely knew anyone else here I could feel comfortable talking to, other than Vinny, who was focused on picking up a girl. So, what was the point of staying?
Daisy was being photographed at the photo station, and I informed her I’d be taking off.
“By yourself?” she asked, breaking her pose briefly.
“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.