Even though she had been relegated to sleeping on the floor of the double-bed hotel room that the seven of them shared, took cold showers in the morning, and ate snacks from the vending machine for dinner, the last two nights had been a revelation. She had never left New York before, and being entrenched in the magical atmosphere of Philadelphia’s underground gay community riveted her to goosebumps. It was familiar in all of the tender ways and distinct enough from Harlem and Lower Manhattan to feel brilliantly unique. But it was watching her sisters perform on those dark, secret stages under dim spotlights that left her without breath. Her toothy smile, stupid and pure, was proof of it, and her pulsing chest, as if she were still struggling to catch air.
