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I thought about that for a second. Remy hadn’t asked for my help despite who I was. He had asked because of it. In this case, being poor and black was my advantage.
Remy had once said to me that when you embrace your true self, you get rewarded. Could he have been right?
Certainly, he wouldn’t have given me any of his gifts if I hadn’t been who I am. And, the more choices I had to make for the outreach center’s design, the more important my opinion felt. I guess it isn’t specifically my opinion. It would be the opinion of anyone who didn’t grow up with a silver spoon in their mouth.
Seriously, what were these designers thinking? A paintball center? Yeah, that’s exactly what the residents of Brownsville needed, a way to shoot at each other recreationally. Nothing bad could ever come from that.
No, the center was going to be for kids. On the first floor would be quiet rooms where kids could just sit and relax because that’s what a true safe space looked like. On the second floor would be tutors and counselors. And on the third floor would be the LGBT resources.
For that, we could have mentors come in and speak. Each night of the week could be support meetings, whether it’s for gays, bisexuals, trans folks, or women in abusive relationships.
“Dillon?” someone said, drawing my attention. “Dillon, right?”
“Yes,” I said, staring blankly at the young, dark-skinned guy in front of me.
Being away from the neighborhood for as long as I had been, hearing my name made me nervous. My life had changed a hell of a lot since I was 13. For one, I no longer pretended to be straight. That didn’t make a difference at my college in New Jersey. But poor black communities weren’t exactly the epitome of acceptance.
“It’s James. Or, I guess Jimmy. We went to school together,” the slightly older guy said.
“Jimmy! Right!” I said energetically.
He smiled.
“You have no idea who I am, do you?”
I chuckled embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”
“No. Don’t worry about it. We didn’t really know each other back then.”
“Oh, okay,” I said, confused. “But we did go to school together?”
“We definitely did,” he said with a smile that hinted at more.
I looked at him again. No, I didn’t remember him. But, he was cute, and his smile meant something. Lowering my guard, I loosened up.
“Did we have the same classes or anything?” I said with a flirtatious smile I was hoping he would pick up on.
“No. I was two years ahead. But I do remember you.”
“Why was that?”
“Well, one, you were cute. Very cute. Still are,” he said, confirming my suspicion. “And two, you were the first guy I ever… dared to flirt with.”
“Seriously,” I asked, not expecting that.
He blushed. “Yeah, you were always so… I don’t know, confident back then. You always seemed to know who you were. I was having thoughts and terrified of who I might be. You just were, and accepted it.”
I laughed. “I’m glad it looked like that. But I can assure you that wasn’t the case.”
“Maybe. But, I gotta say, thinking you were gave me hope, you know? I made a lot of decisions based on the guy I thought you were.”
“Wow,” I said, no longer flirting with him. “Thank you.”
“No, man, thank you,” he said appreciatively. “So, what are you up to now? You moved out of the neighborhood, didn’t you? It was a few years back.”
“Yeah. My mother got a job. We ended up moving closer to it. What about you? You still live around here?”
“No. I went to a community college in Virginia. So I was there for a while.”
