It had happened up in Greenwich Village across town from where Brandon lived on the Lower East Side. He had been there the night the shit hit the fan ...n the early hours of June 28 in 1969. It had been the same old crap from the cops as happened all the time. But this time people had just said no way. It was going to stop. And they didn't let the cops do whatever they wanted to do like before. This time was different.Brandon ended up in the hospital but he was so happy. Lorenzo was just glad he. We had our book bags with us, lying at our feet. Beth pulled a creased Folger paperback from hers and held it up like a torch."Who referees?" she said."Olivia's the cherry," Julie said.With that gesture, Julie made me, the only one of us who hadn't played before, a member of the group, even though I didn't know what "cherry" meant. I figured it was a like a newbie, but I didn't want to knock myself down in her eyes by asking another question.Beth handed me the book."Don't I get to play?" You. More

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