Speaker 1: Scholastic audio presents Destination Unknown by Bill Konigsberg. Read by Pete Cross.

Cross, Peter: "So this boy, CJ, you met him at the tunnel and he took you to the piers. Red flags honey," said Rena, Felicia's girlfriend.

Her voice was deep and wide, sort of like the way she was built. We were sitting in Felicia's office on a Tuesday night after the curtain had gone up.

" He's my age," I said. "He can't possibly..."

" HIV doesn't care how old you are," Felicia said. "Please be careful. Think of Walter. We know so many people who are sick and dying."

I nodded, feeling that buzzing sensation in my head, the one that always came with this discussion.

" Brent lost his job," Rena said to Felicia.

" What? No."

Rena shrugged. "He made the mistake of telling the guy he was under studying for that he tested positive and what do you know? Suddenly they decided to go in another direction. Just like that. And the director and producer are gay, of course. People suck."

I wanted to stand. I wanted to walk out of the room, not because they were wrong, but because I wished this cloud wasn't always everywhere. I was 17 and I couldn't seem to go a day at the Lortel without hearing about it. I couldn't go to sleep without dreaming of contracting it and having to tell my parents and then dying a terrible death. And weirder, at school it was just the opposite. I couldn't remember the last time anyone at Trinity had mentioned AIDS outside of a mean joke.

" I know, Mother," I said. "I will put a condom over my entire body. The next time I see CJ."

She gave me that half smirk of hers and said, "Kids these days."

" He wants to date me. Let me say that again and slower, he wants to date me."

I guzzled my orange soda and Dina popped a piece of banana berry split bubble yum into her mouth. We were heading toward Broadway after school on Monday.

" I honestly don't know why this surprises you," she said smacking her gum rudely. "I mean, you're not even close to grotty. Yes, your clothing is unfortunate and your taste in music is putrid, and at this moment, your breath is not lilacs, but..."

I sank my head in mock shame and Dina to rub it in, poked me in the shoulder and pointed out a slight red stain on my yellow Lacoste shirt. Probably been there since lunch. Hopeless. I scratched at it to no avail. Dina was wearing a skin tight pair of Sasson jeans that shaped her butt like a lovely teardrop and a black blouse with big shoulder pads from Shara vari. Her wrists were covered with rubber bracelets and the silver rhinestone necklace around her neck sparkled. Red Reebok high tops finished off the look. She was nothing if not trendy, and it worked for her.

It would not work for me, so I never tried.

" What would you do without me?" Dina asked as we crossed Amsterdam at 91st.

" Have self-esteem."

She laughed. We passed the Pristine new Loves pharmacy with its bright and shiny exterior. Right next to it, a craggy looking white guy stood in the doorway of a dilapidated building that looked like its windows had been smashed. That was pretty much the Upper West Side in a nutshell. Growing up, I hadn't been allowed to cross east of Amsterdam Avenue alone until I was 14, and now a few years later, though evidence of its former self remained, it was becoming almost chic.

" I'm going to crazy Eddie's," I said. "Want to walk me up to 98?"

" Their prices are insane," Dina said, imitating the annoying commercial. I.

" Have to buy this album. Have you heard of Missing Persons? We're doing a music swap."

I gritted my teeth for what was to come. Dina stopped right in the middle of Broadway. An older Latina woman wearing a paisley headscarf had to do some quick gymnastics to not run into her.

" Oh, no, Micah, why would you? This is why you have to ask me before you make any decisions in your life. Tell me you lied and said your favorite was Echo and the Bunnymen or R. E. M?"

I ducked my head in mock shame.

" You have literally the worst taste in music," she said.

Yes, I liked Tiffany and Debbie Gibson and Lisa Lisa. Dina didn't get it. No one at school did. The people I hung out with liked U2 and The Smiths and Husker Du and that was all fine. But really? Give me Lisa Lisa any day. Maybe it was a gay thing.

" Which one? Don't tell me. Not the Jets." She snapped her gum and started walking again.

" Bubble yum is made of spider eggs," I said, and she swatted at me from the side.

" The jets really?"

We passed a news stand where an elderly lady was yelling obscenities at the guy behind the counter because apparently her newspaper was creased.

" Their music is highly underappreciated and one day we will all celebrate their greatness," I said.

" Sure, of course we will. George Michael, you want his sex?"

" I went with Wham actually."

" Oh no, date over before it started, and maybe it's for the best. That boy is dicey."

" He isn't, though. He's different and he's wild. But there's something about him that is as un-dicey as it gets. You'd have to meet him to understand."

She raised one eyebrow.

" And of course you never will."