Boys-Epub by Unknown

Author:Unknown
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-02-22T15:37:22+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

The McGregor Center is absolutely one of Detroit’s most gorgeous buildings. Minoru Yamasaki really did that shit. I’ve been here a few times for events, fundraisers, and shit like that. Today I’m here for a career fair before some afternoon showings. It’s insanely bright in here all the time because the building is covered in glass, and the sunlight reflects off the white marble on the first floor. But when I’m at the top of the second-floor landing, I can’t help but think about falling over the railing and landing headfirst onto the marble, my blood and brain matter splattering everywhere.

It’s beautiful, but I dread it because lately, that image is all I can think about. Today, I’m supposed to be on a panel for these college juniors and seniors, hopefully convincing them not to make terrible career choices. They’ll fall asleep listening to what I’m talking about because no one their age cares about selling real estate. And who knows? I’ve got so much on my mind with Roland and Terrell and this McQuerry deal and Troy acting all sad about Mahaffey closing that maybe I’ll stop listening to myself.

I walk slowly up the stairs, making sure my entire foot lands on each step while I grip the handrail as tight as I can. I stay away from the balcony so that nothing—me tripping over my feet, an unexplained gust of wind, whatever—could knock me over onto the marble. And still, all I see in my head is my own demise. I promise I’m not suicidal. I don’t even like to think like this because what if I’m foreshadowing? But I can’t explain why I keep having these visions, why I’m curious about what it would feel like if I fell.

I keep trying to tell Troy about the McQuerrys, the microstudios, and the school, but I know he’d kill me. I tried to find a way to tell him that night we were all at the Woodward, but my hints didn’t take. And I can’t just, like, drop into the group chat and tell him that it’s basically a done deal that the Mahaffey School is done. Ever since he started hanging with those white teachers at his school, he’s changed. Now everything is “Eat the rich” and “Guillotine!” That’s how all these new white people are in Detroit now. But I’ll be damned if some white socialists, anarchists—whatever kind of -ists they say they are—who just fucking moved here are going to say something about everything I’ve worked my ass off for years to get. I just never imagined Troy would fall into all that. You’d think he’d see his dad—the way his money helped Detroit even if he had to get his hands a little dirty—and see that as a possible option rather than just messing around with Marielle and Natalie, or Marlie and Noelle—whatever their names are. Bill Clements understands that everybody’s just out here getting theirs, that the thing driving this city is money, and that if you don’t get out here and take it, somebody else will.

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