The day I stepped off that train and into Brooklyn had brought me wonder by the time it faded. Wonder in the forms of two boys I watched from the shadows beyond a huddle of people surrounding a small fire.
One was Racetrack Higgins. He was witty and friendly, exuding charm and easy laughter.
The other was Spot Conlon. He was cold and proud, exuding power and frightening intensity.
I fell in love that night. From my hiding place, I imagined how incredibly, intensely beautiful they would be together.
It was another few years before I learned that they were.