Marcus sat on the edge of his bed, his tortoiseshell glasses perched on the edge of his nose as he stared intently at his laptop screen. His locs hung loose down his back, and he wore a powder blue outfit that matched Caleb’s. When he noticed Nick poke his head inside of the room, he smiled sheepishly, caught.
“I know, I know,” Marcus said, closing his laptop. “I shouldn’t be working in the middle of my own birthday party. One of my authors is stressed about missing a deadline. I was trying to figure out a new schedule for her.”
“I’d tell you that you work too hard,” Nick said, “but if you didn’t, I wouldn’t be here.”
“True.” Marcus pointed to the gift in Nick’s hand. “That for me?”
Nick nodded. “Happy birthday, bro,” he said, giving Marcus the wrapped gift. Nick never missed Marcus’s birthday. In college when he was broke, he used to write Marcus funny short stories every year, and when he’d been traveling around the world, he sent small knickknacks from various countries. This year, though, he’d been able to buy him something of quality.
Marcus slowly unwrapped the gift with care, pulling the wrapping paper away to reveal a black leather-bound planner embossed with his initials: M.W. for Marcus Wilson. He carefully ran his fingers over the letters and glanced up at Nick with an expression of pure elation.
“Damn, this is amazing, Nick! Thank you!” Marcus was a hugger, and as was custom, he pulled Nick toward him and wrapped him in a hearty embrace. With Marcus, there were no lackluster pats on your back or quick squeezes that left you feeling cold. Through Marcus, Nick had learned that a true hug was warm and enveloping. Full of care. They separated, and Marcus continued to examine the planner. “Shit, is this from Shinola?”
Nick nodded. “I know you love that store. And if I know anything about you, it’s that you love a good planner.”
“Bro, I was just saying that I needed a new one. And it’s got my initials! This is a dope gift, Nick.”
“I’m glad you like it.” Nick smiled. Any form of praise always made him feel self-conscious, unsure if he really deserved it. “We’ve been friends for ten years, so it’s about time I got you an adult gift.”
“Ten years,” Marcus repeated. “Wow.”
“Wild, right?”
Almost ten years ago, Nick had shown up at UNC’s Chapel Hill campus alone and out of his depth. He’d been armed with a full-ride scholarship, two suitcases stuffed with all of his belongings, and no idea what to expect. The bus ride from his parents’ apartment had been almost three hours long. They hadn’t been around to tell him goodbye. In fact, prior to departing, he hadn’t seen Teresa in three days. She was gone, running after Albert, who two weeks before had taken fifty-three dollars from her wallet while she slept and then disappeared. At eighteen, Nick no longer expected Teresa to prioritize him over Albert. But it was terrifying to show up to his first day of college with no support whatsoever.
He maneuvered his way through his dorm hall, passing fellow freshmen and their eager, helpful family members, hoping that no one questioned the whereabouts of his family. Once he reached his room, he discovered that Marcus had already arrived. He was sitting on his bed with his parents on either side of him. A planner lay open in his lap, and he was writing down his class schedule and the locations of each building. Marcus and both of his parents wore glasses and matching Carolina blue T-shirts. They looked like they’d stepped out of a UNC brochure.
Nick had cleared his throat and mumbled a polite hello. Marcus quickly hopped up and introduced himself, confidently sharing that he was an English major from Pennsylvania. Less confidently, Nick replied that he was an English major as well, from North Carolina. Then Marcus’s parents introduced themselves and glanced toward the hallway. When Nick realized they were expecting his family, his familiar mask of artificial ease emerged. He smiled and explained that his parents worked a lot and couldn’t take time off to help him move in, but they would visit in a few weeks. Gracious and respectful, the Wilsons gave Nick space to unpack and left the room.
Hours later, Nick had sat beside Marcus during a meeting with the rest of their floor mates and their RA. Everyone seemed so relaxed, like college was another step in their lives that they’d been prepared for. Meanwhile Nick still couldn’t believe that he’d been accepted in the first place. He was low-key convinced that someone in the administration office would find him and say there was a mistake with his paperwork. He hadn’t won a full scholarship after all. It had all been a big misunderstanding.
After the floor meeting ended, a group had gathered to discuss which parties they wanted to hit up. Nick had lived most of his life in apprehension of getting to know people, or rather letting them get to know him. Because then they’d find out just how dysfunctional his family was. He started to walk back to his room, planning to stay in and read, but Marcus had caught up with him.
“We’re gonna go out tonight,” he said. “It’s gonna be fun.”
Again, with Marcus’s effortless confidence. Nick had no choice but to believe him. It was the first hint that Marcus was the kind of person who refused to take no for an answer and that he’d refuse to give up on Nick.
“Hey, I want to ask you something,” Marcus said now. His voice took on a tentative tone that warned Nick he probably wasn’t going to like whatever came out of Marcus’s mouth next. “Every August, M&M throws an end-of-summer party where editors present the biggest books of the fall season to tastemakers in the industry. Influencers, book reviewers and librarians, that sort of thing. I’ve been hearing about this party since I got my first internship years ago. It’s a pretty big deal, not to mention that there’s hella free food. But I bring this up because your editor will be presenting your book, and they’d like to extend an invitation to you because it helps if an author is there to speak too. Your editor knows how you value your privacy, so there’s no pressure at all, and I told her I didn’t know if you’d be up for it. I don’t want to speak for you, though, so let me know what you want to do.”
Nick made a face. “They’re gonna flip when they find out I’m not some British dude.”
“It might cause a tiny stir,” Marcus said, shrugging. “But it isn’t like you wrote a memoir and lied about your life. You used a pen name and said you were born in England. People have done worse. Your team will understand if you explain why you lied in the first place.”
“I don’t know . . .” Nick was doubtful that he could be so easily forgiven. The prospect of coming clean wasn’t something he could wrap his mind around. He observed his best friend’s hopeful expression. “You think I should go.”