Junot Díaz
The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao (Excerpt O)
I liked to play it up as complete philanthropy, but that’s not exactly true. Sure I wanted to help Lola out, watch out for her crazy-ass brother (knew he was the only thing she really loved in this world), but I was also taking care of my own damn self. That year I’d pulled what was probably the lowest number in the history of the housing lottery. Was officially the last name on the waiting list, which meant my chances for university housing were zilch to none, which mean that my brokenness was either going to have to live at home or on the street, which meant the Demarest, for all its freakery, and Oscar, for all his unhappiness, didn’t seem like so bad an option. It’s not like he was a complete stranger—I mean, he was the brother of the girl I’d shadow fucked. Saw him on campus with her those first couple of years, hard to believe he and Lola were related. (Me Apokolips, he cracked, she New Genesis.) Unlike me, who would have hidden from a Caliban like that, she loved the dork. Invited him to parties and her rallies. Holding up signs, handing out flyers. Her fat-ass assistant. To say I’d never in my life met a Dominican like him would be to put it mildly (170).