“Wait, for real?” What the hell did Martel have to say about that? Quan wonders.

   “Yep. Apparently he and this young lady have been dating for a while? I think her name is Trinity. You know her?”

   An image pops into Quan’s head of Trey hugging up on a gorgeous brown-skinned girl on one of those before nights when everything was different. He smiles. “I do.”

   “Dawg, I been knowing Trey most of my life, and I ain’t never seen that guy as happy as he was when he told me the news yesterday.”

   Now Quan’s eyes drop to his knees. Man, what he wouldn’t give to see Montrey Filly happy. Much as that dude been through. “That’s amazing, man. Give him my congratulations.”

   When Justyce doesn’t respond, Quan looks up to find the guy examining him the way Tay does sometimes. Quan shoves Justyce’s shoulder. “Bruh, why you eyein’ me like that? You tryna fight?”

   “Man, whatever.” Justyce shoves back. “Let’s talk about something else since I can tell your ass is gettin’ all nostalgic and shit.”

       “Quit cussin’. There’s babies in the vicinity.”

   Justyce waves him off. “So how are you, dawg? Everything copacetic?”

   “Who are you, Doc?”

   “Just answer the damn question, you question-dodger.”

   Quan sighs. And smiles again. Truth be told, it’s nice to have Justyce around even temporarily. Dude is genuinely the best friend friend Quan’s ever had. “Things are solid, man. Took a minute to get into the new swing once I moved back in with my moms—the suburbs are weird as fu—”

   “Language.”

   Quan laughs. “It’s weird out here is what I’m saying. Like mad quiet. No streetlights. And stuff, this park included, closes at like seven p.m.” He shakes his head. “I definitely had way more freedom—and way fewer chores—during my months at the Drays’, but I can’t really complain.”

   Right after his release, Quan moved in with Doc and his husband to spend a little time getting reacclimated before going back home. And it turned out to be a good thing: he really struggled at first, and having not one but two successful black men around to support and guide him was mad helpful. Even seeing two dudes crazy in love—something that was admittedly uncomfortable for Quan at first—was helpful: when he met Liberty for lunch to shoot his shot…and she shot him right down by letting him know she had a girlfriend, Quan hadn’t batted an eye.

       “You and SJ good?” he asks Justyce now that he’s got love on the brain.

   “Ah, we’re taking a break,” Jus replies.

   “Wait, what?!”

   Justyce grins. “I’m just playin’. We’re great, man. She’s in Israel right now on her Birthright trip.”

   “You better hope she don’t meet some bangin’ Jewish dude with more money than you, Mr. Broke.”

   “Whatever, dawg. I know you heard the phrase Once you go black…”

   Quan laughs so hard he almost falls off the rock wall. “Between me and you, I wish I could find me a woman like Liberty.”

   “Wait, did I tell you about how Jared randomly saw her and her girl at a restaurant, and his idiot ass tried to holler at her and got curved so hard, he had to get a crick in his neck?”

   Now Quan’s laughing even harder. “You’re not serious, man.”

   “Oh, I am. Dude is dumb as a rock sometimes. Those oblivious entitled-dude roots creep up and choke his good brain cells from time to time,” Jus continues.

   “You can take the rich white boy out the country club…”

   “But you can’t take the country club out the rich white boy. I feel it, man.”

       The boys—young men, really—lapse into a steady silence.

   Which is the only reason they can finally hear the angry jeers from the fourth and fifth graders beneath them. “You fellas mind coming down so we can, you know, climb?” comes the voice of a brown kid with slick black hair. Sunhil, Quan believes little dude’s name is.

   “Yo, who you think you talkin’ to like that, huh?” Quan says.

   Sunhil’s eyes go wide. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean—”

   “I’m just messin’ with you, kid. Come on, Justyce.”

   The two climb down and stand to the side, watching as pairs of kids, Quan’s brother Gabe included, race each other to the top.

   “Can you believe my baby brother is eleven, man?” Quan says, crossing his arms as he watches the long-limbed, superhero-loving kid he spends just about every Saturday with get bested in a climbing race by a tiny redheaded freckled girl who moves like a damn spider. “That’s two years older than when we met. Shit’s crazy.”

   “Yo, you remember the rocket ship?”

   Quan turns to look at Justyce like he just asked if blue whales can fly. “Are you really asking me that? Of course I remember the rocket ship. It was my favorite mode of imaginary travel, thank you very damn much.”

   Justyce drifts off to somewhere Quan can’t go, and his eyes narrow. “You miss it?”

   At first, Quan doesn’t respond. Because he really has to think about it. His eyes roam the always-clean park space. Touch on his mom, laughing with Sunhil’s; his sister, all boo’d up on the swings with some li’l boy Quan definitely wants to punch; his brother, sitting at the top of the climbing wall with his arms raised in triumph on his birthday; his best friend right beside him.

       Only thing missing is his dad. But they write to each other weekly, and Quan’s been out to visit the old man a couple times, so even that’s okay.

   He smiles. “You know what, man? I don’t.”

   “You don’t?”

   “Nah,” Quan says. “No need to go to outer space.”

   Justyce smiles, and Quan knows Jus knows exactly what he’s going to say next.

   So he does: “Everything I need is right here.”

(Consider this one indefinite, and therefore un-date-able)

    Dear Justyce,

    Thank you.

    For everything.

          Sincerely,

     Vernell LaQuan Banks Jr.

   This is the hardest book I’ve ever written. From the research to the content to the painful pieces of my own past I found myself unintentionally mining, Quan’s story took more out of me than I knew possible to pour into a piece of “fiction.”