Say When

S I X

The lights of the city flickered between thick cables as we made our way over the Whitestone Bridge into the Bronx. The night had fallen and a bit of cool air settled in.

I sat in the passenger seat feeling different. Something in the air made each moment feel charged. I was wired and feeling pretty drunk. But I hadn't sipped any liquor. I was just riding the high of being out. With someone. A guy.

I caught clips of Jax out of my peripheral. He seemed to melt into the seat--the car extended from him. He nodded his head along to the music which he kept low. It sounded like mellow rap. I strained to hear but couldn't make out the words.

"Who's this?" He tossed a look at me and smiled before turning back to the road.

"Talib Kweli." I'd heard the name before but I couldn't place it. I nodded and dropped the topic. I added old school rap music to the category of things not to discuss.

"Are you sure you're okay with coming all the way uptown?" When I'd gone out to meet with him earlier we rode around town for a bit and then got to talking about the books.

He knew all the classic novelists. Charlotte Bronte. Harper Lee. Jane Austen. I was impressed.

He told me that he'd taken an English literature course in his freshman year and had taken a liking to it. In his matter of fact, nonchalant way of making English lit seem cool, he told me that his campus library had a first edition Jane Eyre.

I demanded to see it immediately. Before I knew it, we were heading uptown.

"Yes. You said we were going to chill, so we're chilling. And I'm seeing a first edition Jane Eyre." I smiled smugly.

"I've never met a person who was this truly about a book."

"It's not just a book though. It's history," I gushed. He nodded in agreement and smiled at me. Goosebumps ran up my arms.

The more I spoke with him the more comfortable I got. I relaxed a bit. I was finding a rhythm between us and the quietness. He was somehow reserved and open at the same time.

He never shied away from any of the questions I asked. Nothing was off limits. But he never volunteered the information.

As we made our way Uptown we rocked between conversation and silence. I learned he was twenty. His parents were both not in the picture. I didn't ask anything more. Afraid of going too far.

He spoke of his grandparents fondly. His grandfather passed away two years ago peacefully in his sleep and his grandmother was grief-stricken but strong. He loved her. I could see that.

By the time we got close to the campus, I could feel that we'd peeled a few layers back. Not just on his end but with me too. The conversation flowed freely.

He was so comfortable in his skin and in who he was that you couldn't help to try and emulate the same when you were with him. With more time, I hoped that I'd find my quiet confidence as well.

We arrived on campus and he parked in one of the student lots closest to the library.

We headed toward the massive building. The campus was still abuzz with students. Being a New Yorker meant a lot of commuter students coming to night classes after a full day of work.

It was all that you could do to survive out here. I wanted to take advantage of the opportunity to get an education before resigning myself to this world. Where I only got to grow and learn after the sunset.

As we walked, people greeted him. Ladies. Guys. Jocks. Professors. Security. Everyone knew Jax. I was intrigued. He wasn't some big-time senior. He wasn't on any sports teams. As much as I wanted to credit it all to his magnetism I knew there had to be more to it.