Adam (15 page)

Adam was surprised by how calm June was. Unlike Casey, she didn't care what this group thought of her.

“I
like
being different because I'm queer,” said Spiky Hair.

“I like being different now,” said June. “I didn't like it when I was fifteen, got beat up, and had to have my jaw wired shut for three months.”

Jimmy came out from behind the table and sidled up next to Adam.

“Lotta pussy at this rally, huh?”

“Uh, yeah,” said Adam. All he could think was,
Your name is Francesca diSessa, and you're twenty-six years old.

“I'm 'bouts to get lucky tonight!” said Jimmy. He cocked his head over at spiky-haired girl.

“So are you, like, against gay marriage?” said Adam.

“I'm against getting blue-balled again like last time,” said Jimmy.

“Check it out,” said Spiky Hair.
“Embarrassing.”
She pointed to a tall, skinny, blond-haired boy wearing short pink shorts and nothing else. He was cheering and waving a sign that said:
WELCOME TO SELMA
.

“It's, like, the fucking greatest day of his life,” said Spiky Hair.

“Gay rights are civil rights,” said June. “He's making an analogy.”

“It's a
fucked-up
analogy,” said Spiky Hair. “We should not be equating the gay rights movement with the African American civil rights movement. It's insulting, divisive, and alienating to queers of color.”

Adam noticed that all the people behind the Queers Against Gay Marriage table were white. The majority of the people at the whole
rally
were white.
Why?

“I hear that,” said June.

“Gay is NOT the new black,” yelled Boy Casey at a woman carrying a sign proclaiming the inverse. Casey stood behind Boy Casey, sipping a Coke, looking troubled.

“You guys coming to the party at Carlisle's tonight?” asked Schuyler.

“Yeah, we might stop by,” said Casey. “Where is it again?”

“Upper East Side. His parents are out of town. Perfect timing. Get ready for some Cristal and shit . . . Carlisle's such a little faggot.”

“Awesome,” said Casey.

“Yo, what the fuck be happenin',” said Jimmy, pointing.

Everyone looked over at a police car stopped in the middle of the rally. People were crowded around the car, chanting, and some were climbing on the hood.

“Dude! Let's go check it out!” said Schuyler.

A woman by the police car shouted into a bullhorn, “Lawyers! Lawyers! We need some lawyers!” One of the hood jumpers was getting arrested.

“Schuyler, it's your turn to stay behind the table,” said Boy Casey.

“What?! No.”

“I'm in law school,” said Spiky Hair. “They might need me.” She and another girl behind the table took off.

“Come on!” said June to Adam, Casey, and Agnes. They all started jogging toward the scene. Boy Casey and Schuyler were beside them.

“Hey, Jimmy, watch my bag!” Boy Casey yelled back at the table.

“What! I gotta stay here?! Suck ass . . .”

Over at the police car, two gay-looking boys were getting arrested. People had formed a circle around them and were shouting, “Let—Them—Go! Let—Them—Go!”

“Man, I cannot fucking risk getting arrested,” said Boy Casey. “They'd fucking throw me in the bitch cell. You know they would.”

Adam didn't get it. Wouldn't Boy Casey rather be with the women? If he was with the men, he could get raped. Adam took a few steps back.

“Fuck that,” said Casey. She looked at Boy Casey, serious. “I'll stay right with you. I won't let them.”

“But in case they do,” said Boy Casey, “take these.” He put a pack of cigarettes in Casey's hand. “I want you to put one in my mouth and light it while they're cuffing me. Then take a photo of me just fucking standing there smoking while they lock me up.”

The commotion died down. The two hood-jumpers were in the back of the police car, and it slowly moved forward.

“Failure to disperse,” said a butch lesbian standing in front of them. “It's all bullshit so the police can flex their dicks. They'll let them go where no one can see them and just give them a citation.”

“Hey, you're . . . Hazel,” said Casey. “I'm Casey!”

“I know,” said Hazel. She grinned and winked.

This was the disabled girl?
Hazel had short, curly hair and was wearing a black tank top, black cargo pants, combat boots, and had a utility belt around her waist holding a police baton, two knives, and what looked like a can of Mace. She also had a long black tube slung over her back. She whipped the tube around and extracted a thin black cane, which she twirled between her fingers.

“Play party at Dungeon tonight. You coming? I promise to beat the shit out of you.”

Apparently Casey had been confused about the use of Hazel's “cane.” Adam glanced at Casey, but she was ogling Hazel. He knew that look. Casey was in love.

“We've got the party at Carlisle's,” said Boy Casey, stepping in. He slung his arm over Casey's shoulder.

“You should come,” said Casey to Hazel. She stepped out from under Boy Casey's arm and took out her phone. “What's your number? I'll text you the address.”

Casey and Hazel traded phones and exchanged numbers. Casey had a huge glowing grin and was doing that twisting-her-hair thing. Adam thought Boy Casey might say,
“Fuck it,”
and walk away. That was the sort of thing Brad or Colin did if a girl rejected them. They'd act as if they couldn't fucking care less. But Boy Casey looked nervous. He hovered.

“Hey, we're Queers Against Gay Marriage.” Spiky Hair again. “Here's our statement.” She tried to hand Hazel the pamphlet, but Hazel didn't take it. Spiky Hair awkwardly retracted her hand, saying, “We don't believe gay marriage is the solution.”

“What do you mean ‘gay marriage is not the solution'?” said Hazel. “It's the solution to gay people not being able to get married.”

“Hey, honey.” A black girl came up and kissed Hazel on the mouth. “I lost you.” The girl was carrying a sign that read:
SLAVERY WAS TRADITION TOO
. Adam wondered if Spiky Hair would inform the black girl that
“gay is not the new black.”
She did not.

Hazel took the black girl's hand. “Maybe I'll stop by that party,” Hazel said to Casey. “If you come to Dungeon afterward.” She stared straight at Casey with this really intense look.

“Um, maybe,” said Casey, flustered.

“You're coming back to my place afterward, right?” said Boy Casey.

“I'm not sure what I'm doing,” said Casey.

“Come on,” said June. “We're stuck in the dregs of the march; let's get back up to the front.”

“I gotta get back to the table,” said Boy Casey. “I'll see you at the party.” He turned his head to Adam. “You coming to Carlisle's, dude?”

“Sure, yeah,” said Adam.

Of course
now
Boy Casey acts like he exists.

***

The sky turned dark and the rally dissolved. No Calypso. No reappearance of Redhead. Adam had a sinking feeling but tried to fight it.

“It's almost eight-thirty,” said June. “Shouldn't we just head up to the party?”

“Eight-thirty? Are you retarded?” said Casey. Then caught herself and put her hand to her mouth.

“Ha-ha,” said Adam.

Casey flipped him off. She was in a bad mood. All she'd done the past couple hours was complain, switching off between “It's too hot” and “I'm hungry.” Adam knew what she really meant was:
“I wanted Boy Casey, but now I want Hazel, but she's with someone else, at least I think she is, and now Boy Casey wants me back and I don't even care.”
He wondered if Casey was reading his mind, too, right now. I mean, how difficult could that even be?
“I wish I was having sex, I wish I was having sex.”

“So . . . should we get some pizza or something?” said June.

“Right. 'Cause what I really need right now is to get fat,” said Casey.

“You're so skinny,” said Agnes.

“Let's just go to Starbucks,” said Casey.

There was one on the opposite corner, and the group pivoted en masse and headed in that direction.

Adam remembered how the night of The Hole he'd had that crazy, elated feeling that
something was going to happen.
And something
had
happened. How crazy was that? Did it mean he was psychic? Could he actually predict what was going to happen in the future by how he felt in the present? He tried to focus really hard to see if he was getting that same feeling now. If something would happen tonight. But the harder he focused, all he could feel was himself focusing.

They got Starbucks, then June, Agnes, and Adam got pizza, then they browsed Barnes & Noble, got Starbucks again, and walked aimlessly until finally it was 10:19 and Casey decided it was OK for them to make their way uptown to the party.

The subways were air-conditioned, and now that it was night, they were surprisingly cold. Casey and Agnes, who were wearing shorts, shivered and tried to cover the goose bumps on their legs. June reached into her backpack and pulled out a sweatshirt to drape over Agnes's knees. Agnes smiled and leaned in closer to June. Adam thought about their dog Lucy and how she'd always liked to sleep on the heater grate. Casey read the subway ads.

***

The party was in a super-fancy building with a giant marble lobby and a doorman.

“We're here for, uh . . . Carlisle,” said Casey. The doorman gave her a look like:
Really? Because I couldn't tell.

“Floor seventeen,” he said.

They waited for the elevator, and another group of “Carlisle” people came up behind them. The elevator dinged, and they all crammed in.

“We got room for everyone!” someone shouted. “This elevator is
inclusive.
”

Adam got pushed against the wall. More people were squeezing in, and as Adam shifted to try to make room, he realized right in front of him was the redheaded girl. The elevator jerked, and Redhead's back slammed up against him.

“Aaah! Sorry,” she said, turning her head around briefly.

Her body was fully pressed against his as the elevator chugged slowly up. He could smell her hair. It smelled delirious. Adam moved his hand to cover his crotch.
Oh god, his dick was totally sticking out.
He fixed his eyes on her tiny little soccer ball ear stud.

*Ding*

Everyone flooded out. Redhead followed her crowd. Adam stayed in the elevator, his hands around his crotch.

“What are you doing, Adam?” said Casey. “We're here.”

“I think I dropped something in the lobby,” he said. “I'm just gonna ride back down and come back.”

“Uh, OK,” said Casey, like Adam was crazy, but she wasn't interested enough to care. “It's apartment seventeen-E.” Casey, June, and Agnes rounded the hallway as the elevator doors closed.

Adam pressed the
STOP
button. He'd never done that before. Part of him was scared it would transmit a signal to some room where a man was watching all the elevators on TVs. But he just needed a minute alone. He needed to chill the fuck out. She was here. This was his chance. This was motherfucking destiny and he knew it. Forget Agnes—there
was
a fucking God, and for whatever fucked-up reason He liked Adam. All Adam had to do was not blow it.
Do not fucking blow this, Freedman.
He took a deep breath and pressed
OPEN
.

The party was packed. It looked like the same crowd as The Hole, except now—instead of everyone crammed into a graffiti-sprayed, trash-strewn, gutted concrete building—they were crammed into a fancy apartment with expensive-looking furniture, art on the walls, and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Adam's house wasn't nearly as nice as this, but he suddenly felt homesick. For a moment, he wished everyone at the party would leave so he could curl up on the velvety couch and pull the soft white afghan over him.

Adam surveyed the crowd, but he didn't see the redhead.

“Hazel's not here.” Casey was standing next to him. “Should I just give up and make out with Boy Casey?”

“Boy Casey's annoying,” said Adam.

“I know,” said Casey, “but he's hot.”

“What are you guys talking about?” said June, Agnes beside her.

“Uh, nothing,” said Casey. She looked around. “So, Adam, I bet some of the girls here are bi. Anyone you like?”

Adam was surprised. Back in Piedmont, on the phone, Casey had gone on and on about how she was going to hook him up with a hot New York girl, but once he got here it had never come up. He figured it had been all talk—just Casey loving the idea of herself as the cool older sister but not actually wanting to bother.

“Uh, maybe,” said Adam.

“Let's go do a lap!” said Casey. She grabbed his arm and pulled him away.

“You really think someone here would hook up with me?” he said. Should he mention Redhead? But what if Casey knew her and didn't like her? What if she was like,
“That bitch? No.”
Maybe Casey had someone else in mind for him. He'd talk to that girl, Redhead would watch, get jealous . . .

“Huh?” said Casey, distracted. “I only said that to get away from June and Agnes. We can
not
just hang around them all night.” She was still in a bad mood.

“But is there someone you think I could hook up with?”

“Are you on crack? Everyone here is, like,
way
older than you. And
gay.
”

Adam hated Casey. Just because her life wasn't working out perfect didn't mean she had to be a bitch to him. He wanted to punch her in the face and go home.

“See that girl over there,” said Casey, in a hushed voice. She nodded her head toward a short, stocky girl with a mullet. “She transitioned and then went back.”