Joaquin Dorfman - Playing It Cool

* Like a superhero, [Sebastian] can be available at a moments notice; like the main character in a noir novel, he drinks coffee and alcohol and smokes until he comes up with the information or resources needed to carry out his scheme. This fast-paced novel will grip mature young adults.

School Library Journal, Starred

The slick prose presentation, combined with psychologically acute drama, makes this a magnet for cool-hunters.

The Bulletin of the Center for Childrens Books

Dorfman shows an excellent ear for dialogue and a keen eye for both adolescent and adult posturing, as the characters here place themselves in emotional danger, help others out of physical danger, and confront the realities of classand economics.

Voice of Youth Advocates

A window into the adulterated world of grown-ups.

Publishers Weekly

Sebastian is appealing as the untouchably cool savior-manipulator who helps, not because he cares, but because it stops him from facing his own vulnerability.

Booklist

As original as Burning City.

Kirkus Reviews

Dorfmans restless, pointed prose perfectly defines his narrators fragmented perspective. In the end, he experiences not triumph but rebirth; stripped of his cultivated veneer of power, the smooth player sheds his skin to become a real teenager and, in losing everything, wins our hearts.

The Horn Book Magazine

Far as Im concerned, it began with a sophomore intent on taking a dive from the second story of his parents suburban home.

Paul Inverso, fifteen. Brother of Jenny Inverso, eighteen.

Then again, I could start a few weeks earlier with Jeremy King. Coming to me after his mother revealed a secret hidden for well over eighteen years. Shocked to learn that his real father was not the one who had raised him. A lifetime of assumptions over and done with, there was now another man out there responsible for his birth. The second half of his genetic code. Someone who, from all that Jeremy had been told, could not be found.

Or I could start with the investigation that led us to Jeremys real father. Using all my connections to gather the necessary information. All inquiries and research pointing toward the coast of North Carolina. The town of Wilmington, just 150 miles from our own backyards.

All of which, of course, led me to you.

But I know I dont want to start there. Dont even want to think about it just yet, not ready. The contrast is too stark, almost painful. How things were, what they became, how they are now. Trying to keep things simple as I retrace my steps, now knowing full well that there was never anything simple about it. Never once considering what lay beneath, even as questions raged out of control that week, brought me to my knees. Too certain of every last thing I had come to believe. Too confident in every last move I made. The world on a string and truth be told

I could start any number of places before March 12 of 1998, but as far as Im concerned, it all began with a sophomore intent on taking a dive from the second story of his parents suburban home.

Paul Inverso, fifteen. Brother of Jenny Inverso, eighteen.

Although starting an hour or so before that certainly wouldnt hurt.

Cesar dropped us off at my house.

It was four in the afternoon, and spring was making its presence known. Sun at a flattering angle to the neighbors lawns, single-story houses laying low beneath clear blue skies. Slight humidity, birds engaged in sweet-sounding conversations. Regenerated trees rustling with a little help from the southern breeze. Smells of a nearby cookout, kids reclaiming the streets with their bikes, music from an open window filling the gaps of activity.

Train whistle in the distance.

All the deceptive makings of a small town in North Carolina.

I got out of the car, shut the door to the passengers side.

Jeremy got out of the backseat. Headed for the house.

Cesar kept the engine of his rust-red Pontiac idling. Earnest seventeen-year-old face looking up at me through rolled-down windows. First-generation Mexican American, eyes still remembering where he came from. Genuine hope displayed in a smile of well-intentioned teeth.

You really are something, Seba, he told me.

Youre the one who asked her, I replied.

I didnt think Nicole would say yes.

Waste of a good worry, Cesar.

Theres still tomorrow night.

Come on, Bastian, lets go! Jeremy called out from behind me. Waiting by the curb, fidgeting impatiently. A long-established habit of his.

I ignored him. A long-established habit of mine.

Tomorrow nights taken care of, I told Cesar. Ive made reservations for two at the Mezzanine.

The Mezzanine? Cesar was back to worrying. I cant afford a place like that. Ten-dollar soups, the catch of the days the same price as the boat they used to catch it

There are ways around money.

I dont have anything to wear.

Ill take care of it.

My mother needs the car Fridays, Cesar mumbled.

Just tell Nicole to meet you at the restaurant at eight sharp. Ill be by your house to pick you up at seven.

And after the date, Im just supposed to ask her for a ride?

I shrugged. Its the nineties.

So were the eighties.

Dont worry about it.

Cesar sighed. Nodded, put the car into first. I hope you know what youre doing.

I always know what Im doing.

Cesar knew it, too. Drove off without another word.

I watched him go.

Im glad you know what youre doing, I heard Jeremy say. Because I dont have a goddamn clue.

I turned and saw that Jeremy had sat himself on the curb. Brown sweater and khakis hanging uncomfortably off his scrawny frame. Sneakers tapping against the ground, body bouncing slightly. Blond hair stopping just short of blue eyes that were always thinking two disasters ahead of everyone else. Top set of teeth nervously working on his lower lip. Fingers toying with each other.

I walked past him.

Jeremy stood up and followed me. White aluminum siding accompanied us around the house, through the backyard. Sneakers cutting through tall grass, swishing sounds with each stride as he started in. We leave the day after tomorrow.

Excited?

Try unprepared.

Were all the way prepared.

I opened the back door, and the two of us made our way through the small kitchen. Down a dark hallway, floorboards creaking.

You may be all the way prepared. Jeremys words were starting to gain momentum. But this is all happening very fast for me. I need to go over this at my own pace, I need details. Contingency plans. We leave the day after tomorrow, and this was supposed to be our day to work on things, get our stories straight. And so far, what? After school, we dropped Sara off at the clinic, paid Mr. Wallace a visit, fixed Cesar up with Nicole

Your fathers probably just as nervous as you.

Jeremy took a moment to find his breath. Which one?

The one in Wilmington, what do you think?