making. I was out on my terrace, directly in the sun, on the afternoon after the initial riots, wearing high-waisted jeans and a black sleeveless top, drinking a gibson. And I started crying when I realized those men were willing to fight for a dream I had never even allowed myself to envision. A world where we could be ourselves, without fear and without shame. Those men were braver and more hopeful than I was. There were simply no other words for it. “There’s a plan to riot again tonight,” John said as he joined me on the patio. He had such an intimidating physical presence. More than six feet tall, two hundred and twenty-five pounds, with a tight crew cut. He looked like a guy you didn’t want to mess with. But anyone who knew him, and especially those of us who loved him, knew he was the first guy you could mess with. He may have been a warrior on the football field, but he was the sweetheart of our foursome. He was the guy who asked how you slept the night before, the guy who always remembered the smallest thing you said three weeks ago. And he took it on as his job to protect Celia and Harry and, by extension, me. John and I loved the same people, and so we loved each other. And we also loved playing gin rummy. I can’t tell you how many nights I stayed up late finishing a hand of cards with John, the two of us deadly competitive, trading off who was the gloating winner and who was the sore loser. “We should go down there,” Celia said, joining us. John took a seat in a chair in the corner. Celia sat on the arm of the chair I was in. “We should support them. We should be a part of this.” I could hear Harry calling John’s name from the kitchen. “We’re out here!” I yelled to him, at the same moment as John said, “I’m on the patio.” Soon Harry appeared in the doorway. “Harry, don’t you think we should go down there?” Celia said. She lit a cigarette, took a drag, and handed it to me. I was already shaking my head. John outright told her no. “What do you mean, no?” Celia said. “You're not going down there,” John said. “You can’t. None of us can.”