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Dominican?’
    â€˜From the island, but I’m born here.’
    â€˜Boricua, huh? I like Boricuas.’
    â€˜Boricuas are my favorite,’ Ray said.
    â€˜Y’all live here on your lonesome,’ she said. ‘Dag.’
    Ray watched her take in the messy stationhouse, the crummy makeshift kitchen, the decaying walls, holes in the floor, the tin roof, the street-found furniture, the duct tape that held together what was left of the windows, her eyes ending on them, the boys. ‘Is this legal, livin like this?’
    â€˜Well—’ Ray said.
    â€˜We’re emaciated minors,’ José said. ‘Why you ain’t back in Puerto Rico?’
    â€˜I’m back here for school. Can’t believe y’all have no folks.’
    â€˜You come back here for school?’ José said.
    â€˜I got this thing where they like pay my way at this private downtown.’
    Ray ached. He knew she was smart.
    â€˜White folks’ school, huh? That’s chill. They ain’t all bad.’ José licked his lips and rubbed his goddam skinny stomach. ‘You hungry?’
    â€˜I’m okay,’ Trini said.
    â€˜C’mon, we’ll take you out,’ José said.
    â€˜Nah, that’s okay.’
    â€˜Serious,’ José said. ‘You wanna come to Micky D’s wif us? Today be twofers on the dollar menu. Micky makes a mean chimichanga.’
    â€˜Um, I have like fifty cents on me.’
    â€˜We look poor to you?’ José said. ‘We always pay our lady friends’ ways.’
    â€˜We always do too,’ Ray said. ‘That’s a rule of ours.’
    â€˜You’re like sixteen, right?’ José said.
    â€˜Yeah, I’m like sixteen.’
    â€˜I’m like almost sixteen,’ José said. ‘Ray’s gonna be like fifteen in two months.’
    â€˜A month and a half .’
    â€˜Right, right.’ José held the door for Trini. ‘Yeah, so let’s go.’
    â€˜I thought you had to be sixteen to be emancipated,’ Trini said.
    â€˜Fourteen. New law.’ José smiled. ‘Lucky for us, right?’
    Ray side-eyed José.
    â€˜I’m worried about y’all,’ Trini said. ‘On your lonesome and all.’
    José put his arms over Trini’s and Ray’s shoulders. ‘We ain’t lonesome.’
    At McDonald’s José ran into a kid who owed him money. He chased the kid across the Broadway rush. Stuck on the far side of traffic, Ray lost José in the crowd.
    â€˜What happened there?’ Trini said.
    â€˜He was tryin to catch up with a friend.’
    â€˜Uh-huh. He’s interesting, that José of yours. How y’all hook up?’
    â€˜He’s my brother.’
    â€˜For real?’
    â€˜Yup, just not by blood.’
    â€˜Pals, huh?’
    â€˜Friends to the ends, just don’t tell him I said that.’
    â€˜I won’t. That’s nice, though.’ She strung her arm through Ray’s, pals style.
    Ray stared at her arm in his. ‘So, like, you want a Superfry?’ he said to her arm.
    â€˜Okay,’ she said. ‘After, you show me the river.’
    They sat in the hollow of a wild oak curling out of the riverbank. Ray fed his fries to the squirrels. ‘Normally we don’t let girls in the house, but, you know, since me and your aunt are friends and all.’
    â€˜Sure, sure, can’t be havin girls in the house,’ Trini said.
    â€˜Well, it’s just the place smells bad on account of the dogs, and we don’t want girls thinkin it’s us that smell, because the dogs, they’re sneaky like that. They make a smell by you and then they leave and then the girl thinks you made the smell.’
    â€˜Well, I didn’t think it smelled that bad.’
    â€˜Really? Thank you. I like really appreciate that.’
    Trini’s smile waxed, waned. She fed bits of fries to a seagull. ‘Y’all