“Nothing can come between us. I’ll make sure of it.”
I look up into his eyes. “I’ve really missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too, Jerzie.”
* * *
We spend the rest of the evening dancing and singing along to Motown hits with Tanya, Thomas, Melissa, and Kenyon. It’s not till a silvery moon is high in the night sky that Zeppelin shows me the time on his cell phone.
“I scheduled a ride share.”
“Aww,” Tanya whines, wrapping her arms around my waist. “Stay.”
“Yeah, we can stay a little longer, can’t we?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No way. What if we run into traffic? We should go.”
I know he’s right. We’ve pretty much done none of what we told Aunt Karla we would do. The least I can do is be home on time.
I hug all of Zeppelin’s friends goodbye, feeling like they’re my friends now, too.
“Text me when you get home,” Tanya orders. “And follow me back on Instagram!”
“Me, too,” Melissa echoes. “You’re stuck with us now. Forever!” she shouts.
“To forever!” Tanya echoes.
I’m all lit up inside.
When Zeppelin and I climb into the ride share, I collapse onto his chest.
“Let me take you somewhere special tomorrow,” he says.
“I’d like that.” I wrap my arms around his waist. I can hear his heart thumping so slowly. So steady. “And hey, guess what?”
“What?”
“I’m not high anymore.”
He rubs my back. “I’ll miss high Jerzie.”
“Guess what else?”
“What’s that?”
“I don’t wanna be high anymore.”
Zeppelin’s fingertips lightly graze my neck. “Welcome to my world, Jerzie. Let’s just be high on life. Together.”
I sit up and stare into his eyes as the car bumps along in traffic. “I still meant everything I said though.”
“So say it again then.” Zeppelin slides his hand gently down my cheek. “So I can believe you.”
Oh, God. The filter is back on. My cheeks feel hot so I place both my hands on top of them. I asked him to teach me things. I told him to teach me everything. How am I going to say that again?
“It’s all right, Jerzie. You don’t have to say it again. I can teach you anything you want to know, okay?” He rests his hand on my thigh. “And if I go too fast, you can ask me to slow down.”
“Slow down?” I repeat. “It’s been a billion years. How much slower can we go?”
“You’re right.” He wraps his arms around me, like he never wants to let me go. “Guess we’ve waited long enough.”
“So Shalt Thou Show Me Friendship”
Someone is knocking on Aunt Karla’s master bedroom door. Or, actually, pounding on the door more like it. I rub my eyes and swing my legs out of bed, snatching my cell off the end table to check the time.
“Aunt Karla?” I call out.
The door is pushed open to present not Aunt Karla, but Judas. His short fade looks like he left the barber a few seconds ago, leather messenger bag slung over his shoulder, wearing Dockers and a crisp white shirt like he’s headed out to a job interview, which I imagine he is.
“Yo. Sis. I thought you had a job. Why are you still asleep?”
I hold up my phone. “Judas Jhames. It’s 7:00 a.m. Rehearsal starts late today.”
He frowns. “You still need to wake up. I’ve been to the gym. Got a haircut. Traded stocks. Made breakfast. And picked up your early birthday present, and you haven’t even stepped outta bed.”
“Oh, God.” I tighten the silk scarf wrapped about my head, stretch out my legs and stand. “A present? I hope it’s not another savings bond. I still can’t redeem the one you got me for Christmas.”
“That’s because the point is to not redeem it, dum-dum. But to save. Thus the name savings bond.”
“Whatever. Who gets somebody a gift they can’t open for a year?”
“How are we related?” He shakes his head. “It makes no sense. Anyway. Tell me I’m the greatest big brother to ever live and I’ll tell your gift to come forth.”
“It has consciousness? Is it a guinea pig? Cuz you can take it back. I don’t got time to be raisin’ no pigs.”
“Say it.” He clears his throat. “I’m the greatest big brother.”
“You’re the most annoying human on the planet. Now what is it?”
“Whatever. Just know you owe me. Big. Oh, surprise?” he calls out. “You may come forth.”
I stare at the door. Waiting. “Judas? What the hell, man?”
“I swear she was right there.” He moves toward the door. “Riley?”
Riley? “What?!” I literally push Judas out of the way and run into the hallway. I can hear Riley downstairs laughing with Aunt Karla, Mom, and Dad.
“Riley!”
I rush down the stairs and see her sitting cross-legged on the couch, slurping a giant iced coffee drink, her long blond tresses pulled back into a ponytail. She looks at me. “Dude! You went on a date and didn’t tell me?”
“Ahh!” I scream. Riley does, too. I rush into her arms, and we jump up and down, hugging. And screaming.
“Well, hello to you, too,” Mom says, laughing.
“And who went on a date?” Dad asks. “You went on a date? When?”
I pull away from Riley and run to Mom, hugging her tightly. “Missed you, Mommy.” I cross over to Dad and wrap my arms around his waist. “You, too, Dad. And it wasn’t really a date.” I look up at him. He stares at me over the rim of his glasses. “Just hanging out with a friend from the show is all.”
“A boy?” Dad and Judas are so similar in style. Dad stuffs a hand into the pocket of his Dockers, using the other hand to unbutton the top button on his dress shirt as he eyes Mom disapprovingly. “You knew about this?”
“They walked across the Brooklyn Bridge.” Mom waves Dad away. “It was totally innocent.”
Dad grunts.
“I’m offended.” Judas moves into the living room. “Riley got screams. Mom and Dad get hugs. I got insults.” He pulls his messenger bag off his shoulder and sets it beside the couch.
I turn my attention back to Riley. “What are you doing here?” I ask excitedly.
“Tournament upstate,” she explains. “Flying out of JFK by myself, and we were in New Brunswick visiting Grams, so Mom let me ride into the city with your family.”
“And now I’m stuck headed to midtown later today with Jerzie.” Judas groans. “Since Aunt Karla can’t go.”
“What?” I spin around to face Aunt Karla. “Nigel’s gonna be devastated.”
“Nigel?” Mom smiles. “Who is Nigel?”
“Yeah. Who’s Nigel?” Riley grins.
“He’s one of the production assistants at work,” I explain. “I think Aunt Karla likes him.”
“I do not! Will y’all stop?” Aunt Karla laughs as she scoops coffee into her coffeepot. “Anyway. It’ll be good for Judas to see how things work. Plus, I need a break. I’m sick of catching the train to Times Square.”
“Wish your mom and I could stay. We’re gonna miss all the fun this summer.” Dad groans. “Why did I sign up to teach summer school? So many things we could all do. We could walk across the Brooklyn Bridge. Or go see the Statue of Liberty on the river walk.” He pulls open Aunt Karla’s fridge door and takes out a cold bottle of water. “Remember we used to do that?”
“Which decade?” Judas rolls his eyes. “We have way too many pictures of that rusted thing.”
Mom sits beside Judas on the couch. “You excited to spend the summer at Times Square, son?”
“I hate Times Square.” Judas grabs the remote. “It’s like stepping into a real-life infomercial.
So much useless crap for sale. People wasting money. And time. Ahh.” He nods. “Now I finally get why it’s called Times Square.”
“What about Riley?” I turn to my friend. “Can you come with us to rehearsal? How long do you get to stay?”
“Flight leaves at eleven. Today.”
“Nooo. I only get to see you this morning?” I whine.
She makes a pouty face. “I know. But.” She moves to the counter, picking up a giant iced coffee. “Your vanilla sweet cream cold brew is joining us.”
I snatch the coffee right out of her hands and take the biggest sip. “Bless you, woman.” I grab her hand. “Let’s go upstairs.”
* * *
“Were you seriously not gonna tell me you have a boyfriend? Shit like that’ll get you kicked out of the Best Friend Club for life.”
Riley and I are sitting on the balcony, sharing the same lounge chair, my head resting on her shoulder as we watch the sky brighten with the sunrise. “It’s all so new. And secret. Cinny can’t find out.”
“Oh, hot damn.” Riley sighs dramatically. “Better take her off my favorites list so I don’t accidentally butt dial her.”
“I know. I’m paranoid. I get that. It’s just that I like him so much. I don’t want anything to ruin it.”
“You don’t like him.” Riley downs the last bit of her coffee. “You loooove him. You wanna have babies with him. A girl named Jerzepplin and a boy name Zepperzie.”
I bump her playfully with my shoulder.
“Still...” she goes on. “Cinny’s like the queen. On the cover of all the magazines. A trillion followers on Instagram. And you have the man she wants. That’s cray cray.”
“She has the job I want. I’d say we’re even.”
“Ouch.” Riley winces. “Tit for tat!” she roars like a lion. “Glad I’m on your good side, Venom.”
“Sorry.” I sit up. “I shouldn’t have said that. I really do accept she got the part over me.”
“Look, don’t apologize. I’m competitive, too. I get it.”
“That’s different, Riley. You never lose.”
“You’re oblivious, woman. I lose. All the time.”
I give my best friend a look. “Headed into your senior year of high school. UCLA bound.”
“Unofficially.”
“Still. You could go to any D1 school you want. First team All State. All American Games. MVP, Player of the Year. No one has stats like you.”
“Wrong. Try again. It’s true, I’m one of the best pitchers in Jersey.” Riley pauses to brush imaginary dust off her shoulders. “Don’t hate the playa.”
I laugh. “So modest.”
“But on a national level? It’s different. Lots of girls are better than me. Broadway is national, baby. Competition is stiff.”
I guess she’s right. “Yeah.”
“Question for you.” Riley sets her empty coffee cup beside the chair. “I mean. Don’t get me wrong. I freakin’ love Hamilton like nobody’s business. When I listen to that soundtrack, I am pretty much a professional rapper. But my Broadway knowledge sorta ends there. What makes you want Broadway so bad?”
I’m surprised by the question. Nobody has ever asked me that. Not even my own parents. How come no one’s ever asked me this before?
“Well,” I start. “I’ve always loved musical theater, you know that much.”
“True, true,” Riley replies.
“But it was this musical I watched called Cabaret, with Liza Minnelli, that officially sealed the deal. I saw it for the first time when I was seven.”
“Never heard of it. Tell me all about it.”
I smile. Riley has this way about her. Even though she’s such a stud—I mean, her parents moved her entire family to Newark so she could play for a better high school softball team—she has this way of making you feel like you’re the most important and amazing thing in her life.
“It’s about this eccentric cabaret singer who falls for a guy who’s sort of confused about his sexuality. And they end up in a weird love triangle with another guy.”
“Both of them?”
“Yeah. With the same guy. And there’s like, a Nazi side story.”
“Wait,” Riley laughs. “You saw this when you were seven?”
I laugh, too. “In all fairness, my parents had no idea I was watching it.”
“Did you understand it?”
“Some parts. I was a pretty intuitive kid. For me, it was mostly about the music though. The music in Cabaret made me feel. When Liza Minnelli sang a song called ‘Maybe This Time,’ I cried. Not because I was sad. I thought, I dunno, I hope I can make people feel someday.”
“Hmm.” Riley leans forward. “Alexa,” she calls out, and the speaker Aunt Karla keeps outside on the balcony lights up blue. “Play ‘Maybe This Time’ from Cabaret.”
“Playing ‘Maybe This Time’ from Cabaret by Liza Minnelli from Amazon Music,” Alexa replies.
The song begins to play. Riley and I listen for a while. I stand and move to the railing and lean my back against it, watching Riley as she lies on the lounge chair, staring up at the morning sky.
“Look at my arm, Jerz.” She presents her arm to me. “Goose bumps.”
“See?” My eyes are welling with tears. I blink them away. “You can feel it, can’t you?”
“I can relate, too. ‘Everybody loves a winner, so nobody loved me.’ Those lyrics. Is this at the heart of every competitive person? Striving so hard to be validated, you know? To be loved. To be a winner. It’s like a warped mindset of, if I could just win, everything will be okay.”
This is another thing I love about me and Riley. We can laugh and joke about boys, gossip about celebrities and school stuff—but we can also contemplate the meaning of life together.
“You can do this, you know.” She sits up. “Make people feel. You don’t have to wait for Broadway per se. I know only one other person whose singing gives me goose bumps, and that’s you. If you wanna make people feel, do it. Sing. You have over a million followers on Instagram now. Sing for them.”
“But what if nobody’s listening?” I ask seriously. “On a Broadway stage, everybody is listening. It’s this magical storytelling that people from all over the world come to see. It matters. My crummy old Instagram account doesn’t matter.”
“Says who? I’m following sooo many celebrities. But wanna know my favorite Instagram account?”
“Selena Gomez?”
“No, silly. You!”
“Knock, knock.” Dad peeks his head out onto the balcony. “Riley, dear, we’ll be leaving in about fifteen minutes.”
“Copy that, Mr. Jhames,” Riley replies respectfully as Dad disappears back inside.
“Wish we had more time.”
“Me, too.” She stands. At five foot ten, Riley sorta towers over me. I kinda miss how people always look twice when they see us together, her at 150 pounds, so tall and blond. She’s like a new age Viking warrior princess.
“I’m bummed I haven’t been to any of your games lately. I’m the worst.”
“Nah, you’re the best.” She slings her arm over my shoulder. “Besides. It’s my turn to watch.” She lays her head on top of mine. “And please believe me when I say, I will be watching, Jerzie. So show me somethin’ good.”
“Do Not Say Banishment”
Standing outside on the stoop, I’m waving as Riley climbs into Dad’s SUV and Mom moves down the steps, clutching her purse and her cell phone.
“Jerzie, honey, I feel bad about missing your birthday. You sure you don’t want us to come back up for the big day?”
“Mom, it’s fine. I gotta work. You guys gotta work, too. It’s seriously not a big deal.”
“If you say so.” Her phone buzzes in her hand. She glances at the screen, then slides her finger across to answer the call.
“Hello?” I study her worried expression. “Right. Yes. Right now?” She pauses, her brow furrows. “No, no. I would have to say no.” More silence. More brow furrowing. “Yes. Absolutely. Can you at least give me some sort of hint as to what’s going on?” She shifts. “Right. See you then.”
“Mom? What’s wrong?”
“That was weird.” She slides her cell phone into her purse. “It was a cryptic call. There’s a meeting this morning at your director’s office. They asked if I could be present.”
“But you’re headed back with Dad.”
“I was. I’ll have to take a car back later.” She crosses her arms. “They suggested we bring a lawyer.”
My chest tightens so suddenly that I feel short of breath. “Do we even have a lawyer?”
“Do we need one?” Mom turns to face me. “What did you do, Jerzie?”
“Nothing, Mom. I swear. At work, I sit. I watch. I go home.”
“Something about that call wasn’t right. I better tell your dad. Ask what he thinks.”
Mom rushes down the stairs, and I stare up at the sky. The clouds have turned dark and menacing this morning. I expect rain. Maybe even a storm. My head is suddenly throbbing, my heart pounding. I’m Alice, back in Wonderland wondering what lies beyond the bend this time.
* * *
Mom and I take a car to Times Square. Mostly cuz Mom doesn’t know the subways as well as Aunt Karla, and we always end up on the right train heading in the wrong direction. Plus it is raining now. I’ll admit, it’s nice to be dropped off in front of the building, as a long walk from the subway station in the pouring rain would prove difficult when I’m this distraught. Something’s not right. I can sense it.
Mom places an arm around my shoulder and kisses me on the top of my mess of hair as we approach the building. We quickly check in with Security, make it up the elevator, and are back into the office reception area fairly quickly. This time, there’s a boy sitting at a desk.
“Hi,” Mom greets him warmly. “We’re here to see Alan Kaplan?”
“Around the corner in conference room C. That’s where everyone is.” He points the way.
Roman and Jewel Page 16
