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Two days later, Nick was slumped in a chair inside Marcus’s office. Marcus sat across from him, behind his desk, head bent as he read through Nick’s revised first chapter, his red pen held at the ready. Marcus’s office was small but boasted his accomplishments. His degree from UNC hung on the wall beside a framed photograph with his classmates from the Columbia Publishing Course. Copies of his clients’ books were proudly displayed on his bookshelf. And to remind him of home, a framed photograph of Caleb was placed right next to his monitor.
Nick had forgotten he’d promised Marcus a revised first chapter within a month’s time. To be honest, the only reason he’d managed to write anything yesterday was because he’d locked himself inside his apartment, and writing was the only way to get his mind off Lily.
His phone vibrated, and he rushed to pull it out of his pocket, hoping that it might be Lily calling. But instead Unknown flashed across his screen. He sighed and placed his phone facedown on Marcus’s desk. He hadn’t seen or heard from Lily since the other morning in the hallway outside of her apartment. He regretted giving the email drafts to her. Why would she care about what he’d written before, given the way he’d lied to her? The pages were probably lying somewhere in a dumpster outside of their building where they belonged, along with the stupid stool and cat toy.
Nick shifted in his seat and stared out the window. He could see Central Park from here. As a kid, he’d once read that Central Park had over nine thousand benches, and he’d imagined catching a bus from North Carolina, just so that he could try and sit on every bench. It had been a silly goal that he’d eventually given up on achieving.
“I think I need to leave New York,” he said.
Marcus looked up sharply. “What? Why? I thought you liked it here.”
“I need to start over. Somewhere else.”
Marcus sighed, placing down his pen. “Don’t you get tired?”
“Tired of what?”
“Running from your life. You have to stop at some point.”
Nick looked away. “I’m not running from my life.”
“Yes, you are,” Marcus said quietly. “You have been since I met you freshman year of college. And I get it. The situation with your parents was rough. And when you were writing for World Traveler, you were still trying to avoid them, which I understood. But I think you’ve been trying to avoid any scenario that would require you to put down roots because you’re afraid of what might happen if you let someone else into your life and they decide to stay.”
Nick stared at Marcus silently, not wanting to admit that there was truth to his words.
“Why do you want to leave?” Marcus asked. “Does this have something to do with Lily?”
Nick froze. “What?”
“Come on, give me some credit,” Marcus said. “It’s very obvious that something is going on there.”
Nick wanted to come clean. He took a deep breath and then he told Marcus everything. From the emails, to meeting Lily in person and not revealing his true identity, to her finding out a few nights ago.
When Nick was finished talking, Marcus looked thoughtful.
“Why don’t you seem surprised?” Nick asked.
Marcus smirked. “Honestly, it tracks that you would find yourself in this situation since you’re always trying to withhold so much from everyone.”
“I don’t withhold from everyone,” Nick said, indignant.
“It took you an entire semester to open up to me,” Marcus said, laughing. “But look, I’m still here, and I’ve been here. Nothing about you made me want to stop being your friend. Why would you leave, when Lily might decide she wants to be there for you too?”
“That’s the thing. What if she decides that I’m not worth the trouble? Or that I’m not worth it in general? That I’m not worth choosing.”
He thought of his mom and the times she refused to see him if she couldn’t bring his dad along too.
“Not everyone is like your parents,” Marcus said, as if he’d read Nick’s mind. And truthfully, after all these years, he probably could. “I guess you just have to wait and see what Lily decides. But don’t make the decision for her by leaving. That’s a cop-out.”
Regardless of what happened with Lily, Marcus was right that he should probably stay in New York. It was where Marcus and Caleb lived, Nick’s real family. He wanted to be close to them. He needed to put down roots. Long-lasting, legit roots.
“I was going to surprise you after we talked about your pages, but I guess I can give this to you now,” Marcus said, reaching under his desk.
Nick sat up, intrigued. Then Marcus handed him a hardcover book with a shiny silver jacket. It was thick, like a doorstopper. Nick held the book in his palms, gazing down at the title and his pen name listed beneath the illustration of the Ceradon kingdom. This was his book. The new edition of The Elves of Ceradon.
“Your publisher mailed it to me this morning,” Marcus said. “They’ll mail the rest of your author copies soon. But I wanted you to have that copy now.”
Nick ran his hands across the smooth cover and turned the book over, reading the praise from media outlets on the back. He found N.R. Strickland’s brief bio on the inside of the jacket. There was no picture.
He felt it again. That sensation he’d experienced when he’d spotted his cover flash across the screen at M&M’s office weeks ago. He wished his photograph were on the jacket of the book. He wanted people to know that he was N.R. Strickland, the creator of Deko’s story. But then he’d be completely exposed. Albert would probably show up on his doorstep the day the book published.
“Your editor asked again if you were open to meeting,” Marcus said. “And she asked if you’ll be coming to M&M’s party at the end of the month. What do you want me to tell her?”
Nick flipped through his book, marveling that he’d given up on this story and yet it had taken on a new life. As corny as it sounded, maybe there was some kind of analogy here about not giving up on himself either.
Even though revealing the truth to Lily had ended in disaster, he had to admit that he felt somewhat relieved it was all out in the open now. Keeping the secret had been eating him up. Coming clean to the M&M team scared the shit out of him, but he was so tired of carrying the weight of his lie.
“I still don’t want to go to the party,” he said. “But I want to meet my editor.”
“Great,” Marcus said, smiling hopefully. He didn’t even sound surprised.
Nick placed the book on Marcus’s desk. “Do you think you can mail this to someone in Amsterdam for me?”
“Uh, sure.” Marcus raised an eyebrow and spun to face his computer screen. “Who are you sending it to?”
Nick gave him the address for Jolijn and Christophe Davids.
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