Chapter One
Alone.
That’s how I felt sitting in my car, a beat-up Oldsmobile with a busted A/C that only blew heat, even with the dial cranked to full blast. Sweat clung to my back like another layer of skin. The parking lot was packed, every space crammed with cars that looked shinier, newer than mine. I thought about pulling up on the patchy grass, claiming my own space like folks did back home in the Bronx when the block was too tight.
And just like that, my mind slipped.
Back to another window.
A small room with my dirty footprint on cracked-detressed paint and a trundle bed pushed up against the wall. I was eight, maybe nine. No A/C. No fan. Just heavy South Bronx summer heat pressing down on me, stealing my breath. The window had bars across it like a jail cell, and I’d press my face to it, staring out at the world, waiting. Always waiting. My sisters were there, but not really. The one closest to my age was always gone, running with friends, not staying in the house with me. The younger ones… four years younger, seven years younger… they were still babies. Too little to carry my loneliness.
So it was me. Always me.
Alone with the bars, the window, the still air.
Nothing of value in that room. Not even us. That’s how it felt. They say a child sees themselves through the eyes of their caregiver, but what if those eyes are empty? What if they are always turned inward, chasing the next hit, the next high? Then you learn early that you have no value. That you’re invisible. I learned that staring through bars, waiting for a mother who never came home.
The Bronx outside was alive… hydrants spraying, double-dutch ropes slapping concrete, trains screaming on rusted tracks, but inside that room was silence. Loneliness thick as dust.
And that loneliness grew with me.
Followed me into this car, this parking lot, this moment.
I glanced at the students crossing campus. Young, bright, clean. Like they were all born with a plan.
First, I clocked this white boy. Button-down shirt with a black-and-white checker print, jeans that actually looked pressed, hair spiked with mousse, glasses perched like he was somebody’s honor student. He carried his backpack on one shoulder like a badge of pride. The way he moved… sharp, quick, eyes locked on the building like nothing in the world was gonna stop him. Like greatness was guaranteed. My stomach twisted. Something about him made me sick inside, though I couldn’t say why.
Then came a girl. Naomi Campbell before Naomi Campbell. Long legs, slim frame, hair laid, preppy clothes that screamed money and stability. She walked like she believed in herself. Held her chin high like the world already said yes. My throat burned with acid. Nobody should love themselves that much.
And then I saw them… the couple. Latino. Hands locked, mouths locked. Bodies pressed close, like nobody else in the world mattered but them. I hated how clear they were about what they wanted. Love. Belonging. I felt like they were teasing me, rubbing in all I didn’t have.
Why the hell was I here?
Why the hell was I trying?
Still, I sat, waiting for my spot. My spot.
The bell rang, and bodies scattered—running between buildings, some just arriving, some switching classes. Nobody coming to the lot. My hands gripped the steering wheel, nailbuds digging into the faded vinyl. Why didn’t this damn school have enough parking? In the Bronx, you circled for hours, double-parked, argued with neighbors over “saving” spaces with busted milk crates. Now I was in Connecticut, and it felt the same damn way.
Then I saw him. A boy walking into the lot. I stalked him with my eyes, heart quickening. He slid into his car, and I threw my Olds in drive, ready. But he just sat there. Seconds stretched long. Too long. Then, slam! The door opened again. He locked up and walked back toward the building. My chest caved in.
Then another boy appeared, keys jangling. He walked past my car, slid into the one beside me, and cranked the ignition. Yes. Finally. My chest rose. But I didn’t move the gear this time. Didn’t want to get my hopes up. He backed out, pulled alongside me. And then… bullshit. A slick driver slid right into the space before me.
Something snapped.