My friends in this world were mostly the same as the last one. That had to do with familiarity, but also keeping up appearances. I had some new friends, though. They were guys and girls who I admired. The ones who stood up for things and who weren’t afraid to speak their minds. The ones with all the qualities I wish I had. And then there were the friends that were still just plain gone because of the color of their skin, and that was the hardest thing to face . . .

. . . Which brings me to the SAS Club. The meeting during lunch helped to remind me what was at stake beyond just my own wants and desires. So many people have no interest in change unless it directly affects them. I couldn’t be one of those people anymore. Besides, after my father’s play against me at Friday’s game, now more than ever, I wanted to defy him, to stand up for what I knew to be right. See, in my old world, my dad had been knocked down a few notches by life. Maybe he saw himself as a failure, although I never had. But here, his success had given him a nasty arrogance. Here, he was a bully. I wondered if he had been that way when he was my age—but had been humbled, instead of being rewarded for it. It’s a fine line between being the hammer and the nail.

Paul was there when I arrived at the meeting. I sat next to him and pulled out my notebook.

“Did I miss anything?” I asked.

“They’re arguing about the playlist for the dance.”

The integration dance was still being attributed to me. The gym had been reserved for a Wednesday in November, and the administration supported it. It was hard for me to get excited about an event that seemed more about making the club feel good about itself than actually about doing something meaningful. Not only didn’t they see the big picture, they didn’t even know there was a picture to see.

“You should pick some songs,” I suggested to Paul, “or it’ll end up being nothing but Amber Wave and Wunderbred.”

“I thought you liked Amber Wave?”

I just shrugged and grunted. Yes, I had memories of liking them—but those fell into the must be quelled category. I could have given our club leaders one hell of a playlist; unfortunately the songs I’d give didn’t exist anywhere but in my head now. Thinking about that reminded me of the more important list I was making. I flipped my notebook open, tapped my pen for a few seconds, and added some names.

Nadir Williams . . .

Freddie King . . .

Kamisha Hicks . . .

“Who are they?” Paul asked.

“Just people we should invite to the dance.”

He looked a little confused. “Do I know any of them?”