Audible Page 3

  As he stands in the elevator later that evening, waiting impatiently to reach the top floor of Ajay and Sebastian’s building, Marcus is not sure whether he should be grateful or resentful for whatever combination of meds, endorphins, and loneliness has him keeping his promise to Blair and showing up to the party. He takes a deep breath as the elevator slows to a halt. He can do this. He’s feeling good tonight. He is ready to chat, mingle, and otherwise engage in social behavior.

  When the door to the boys’ apartment swings open, Marcus realizes that he is not, in fact, ready for whatever the hell is going on in there. The guy who answers the door is wearing Yoda ears and sipping a neon green liquid through a crazy straw that’s perched in a Fiji water bottle. He immediately wanders away from the door without saying a word, disappearing back into the crowd of tall, built athletes with their low slung track pants and coordinated high-fives and deafening voices and holy shit, this was such a bad idea.

  “Marcus! YOU MADE IT! WHOOOO!”

  Marcus cringes at the sound of Blair’s voice screeching over the 21 Savage blaring in the apartment. His plan to slink back towards the elevators and make a clean getaway is ruined.

  Blair is wearing oversized sweatpants that have got to be Ajay’s and a white tank top with Property of Sebastian Lockwood scrawled across it in black marker. She’s gesticulating wildly with a red Solo cup as she charges towards Marcus, grabbing his arm and yanking him into the crowd.

  “Duuuuuude! You’re here! The boys are gonna be hype!” Blair laughs, taking a deep drink from her cup. “You alright? You look funny. In your face, I mean. Nervous?”

  Marcus shakes his head. “Nah,” he lies, “just had a rough day.”

  Blair narrows her eyes. “You didn’t get harassed by those losers again did you?”

  Marcus sighs inwardly. Shit. He should have just admitted that he didn’t like crowds or something. He’d made the mistake of griping to Blair once about the mouth breathers who holler at him on his runs, and she’d nearly gone to their building and torched it that very moment.

  “It’s nothing, chill.” Marcus smiles widely, running a hand over his curls. “I need a drink. What’s good?”

  Blair’s face lights up. “Yesssss! You’re a vodka man, right? Seb got the best for you, I mean, he got it for himself too, cuz that’s what he drinks, and he’s a selfish little shit, but like, the nicest kind of little shit, you know? So you can have some.” She grabs Marcus’ hand, dragging him through the middle of the living room towards the bar in the back corner where Ajay and Sebastian are talking animatedly.

  Marcus looks around the apartment curiously. It’s not what he was expecting at all. He’d picked up that Ajay’s family was well off from some of Blair’s offhand comments, but this place is nice. Like, really nice. The floors are dark, polished hardwood, and the walls are white and crisp, with huge skylights cut into the ceiling. There’s an enormous TV covering most of one wall, with shelves jammed full of various electronics and gaming systems. Several large, abstract paintings are hanging on the walls in heavy frames, and every piece of furniture in the place is that sleek, simple style that screams expensive as hell.

  Except for the couch in the center of the room, which is an ungodly heinous brown and orange plaid monstrosity, held together in the back with duct tape.

  Marcus feels slightly out of his element. He didn’t grow up poor by any means, just more…regular than this. How is everyone else wandering around freely, dropping chip crumbs on the floor and resting their drinks on the backs of the armchairs? He blanches as he sees a guy in a ripped t-shirt pouring Bruichladdich Black Art and Diet Coke together into a Solo cup. He’s no snob, but he knows how much that shit costs, and no one spends that much money on whisky just to drown it in chemicals, unless they don’t care about price, or their palate.

  “Hey, dumbasses! Marcus is here!” Blair’s tone is much louder than it needs to be, seeing as her face is now six inches away from Ajay’s at maximum. She drops a quick kiss on Ajay’s cheek before disappearing back into the crowd.

  Ajay laughs, slinging an arm around Marcus’ shoulder. “You made it! Awesome! Let me get you a drink. Your obvious sobriety pains me.” He drops his arm and turns towards the bar, rummaging through the myriad of open bottles. Marcus notices that the ass of his track pants has Property of Sebastian Lockwood scrawled across it.

  Sebastian grins, reaching out to clap Marcus on the shoulder. “Glad you could make it. Welcome to our humble abode. Break whatever you like, it’s all Ajay’s shit anyway.” He looks over at Ajay, frowning. “Give him the good shit! Not the Smirnoff, eugh! Honestly. When I find out who brought that shit into my home, I’m kicking them out.”

  Sebastian turns back to Marcus, raising an eyebrow. “You were right, by the way. Reyka’s the shit. We went too hard on Monday, but I was still running circles around Ajay at practice the next morning.”

  Marcus smirks back at him, and if his gaze flickers down a bit, it’s absolutely not because he’s eyeing up those sharp collar bones peeking out of his shirt. Marcus is merely interested in reading the Property of Mrs. Anderson that’s written across the chest of his fitted t-shirt.

  “Being willing to admit when you’re wrong is an admirable trait,” Marcus says, forcing his eyes upward. “Now how about you face facts and concede that Russian Standard is better than Ketel One?”

  Sebastian rolls his eyes, though he’s still grinning. “Just when I think you have promise, you say shit like that.”

  “Whatevs,” Marcus says, “you just don’t know what’s good.”

  “Oh, I know what’s good,” Sebastian says. The intensity of his gaze is making Marcus’ stomach knot, but he can’t seem to look away. “But apparently you don’t. Game recognizes game, Marcus, and you’re lookin’ kinda unfamiliar right now.”

  Marcus bursts into laughter. “You’ve seen Boondocks? Man, that was a great show. First thing I binge watched when I got Hulu.”

  “Hell yeah,” Sebastian agrees. “Huey knows what’s up. Remember the garden party episode?”

  “Jesus was Black, Ronald Reagan was the Devil, and the government is lying about nine eleven.”

  Marcus blinks in surprise as he and Sebastian quote the show at the same time. Sebastian looks slightly taken aback as well, and it might be Marcus’ imagination, but he’d almost swear that Sebastian is looking at him as if…as if he’s checking him out. As if he likes what he’s seeing.

  “Here you go, one vodka seltzer, on the rocks, with a real lime wedge and a little umbrella, ‘cuz we’re classy as fuck up in here.” Ajay is back, thrusting a glass into Marcus’ hand. An actual glass, not a Solo cup.

  Marcus takes it cautiously. “Thanks, man.” He takes a large sip, feeling himself relax as the vodka slides down his throat. He’s not supposed to drink on his meds, but whatever. Drinking lowers his anxiety, makes him feel more human. That’s got to count for something.

  Ajay punches him lightly on the arm. “Glad you made it. It’s nice to see you outside of the library. You look much hotter when you’re out from under those fluorescent lights.”

  “You saying I don’t look hot all the time?” Marcus teases, taking another gulp from his glass.

  Ajay laughs, ruffling his messy hair. “You definitely look hot all the time. What do you think, Seb? You agree?”

  Sebastian shrugs, though Marcus thinks he spots a faint blush on his cheeks. “You know I hate agreeing with you. But I’m not gonna lie.” He pokes Ajay in the ribs. “Where’s my drink, asshole? You got a new best friend and all of a sudden I’m chopped liver?”

  Ajay shoots back some smartass retort, but Marcus isn’t paying attention. He’s too busy trying to work out what Sebastian just said. Does he think Marcus actually looks good, or is he just doing the non-homophobic straight guy joke thing? Marcus frowns to himself. He’s usually good at figuring out where people are coming from. What is it about Sebastian that gets him so off-kilter?

  “So what’s this bullshit I
’m hearing about you living in a shithole?”

  Marcus is jerked out of his own thoughts by Ajay’s loud voice. “Um…what?”

  Ajay rolls his eyes. “Don’t even. Blair told me where you live. That’s a shady area, dude. You’re gonna get mugged.”

  “It’s fine.” Marcus shrugs. “Not a lot available on the bus lines around here, and there’s no point in having a car when parking on campus is so shitty.”

  “There’s plenty available, if you know where to look.” Ajay says with a frown.

  “Not in my budget,” Marcus contradicts.

  “Which is?”

  “Cheap as fuck.”

  Ajay laughs. “Fair enough. Luckily for you, I know a cheap as fuck place that’s on the bus line, redneck free, and at least sixty-nine percent less likely to be robbed than where you’re at now. Just gimme a sec.” He whips out his phone, waving it around menacingly before striding off towards the balcony.

  “Don’t you dare!” Sebastian shouts after him, glaring. He turns back to Marcus with a grimace. “Don’t say yes to him. If you know what’s good. Which you don’t, as we’ve already established.”

  Marcus is about to shoot back a snarky reply when a blonde girl in skinny jeans and a sequined top sidles up next to Sebastian, looking like she’s ready to hit the club rather than a house party.

  “Hey,” she says coyly, looking up at Sebastian through overly-mascaraed lashes. “You’re Bash, right? Bash Lockwood?”

  Sebastian smiles down at her, but Marcus can’t help but notice that he’s standing a bit stiffer than he was earlier. “Sorry, nope. I’m DeShaun Anderson.”

  The girl’s brow furrows in confusion. “Um…what?”

  Sebastian gestures towards his shirt. “Yep, DeShaun Anderson, that’s me. Says so right on my shirt. I really love my mom, as you can see.”

  The girl raises an eyebrow. “But my friend said…”

  “Your friend must be mistaken,” Sebastian says smoothly. “Sebastian, er, Bash is over there.” He points to a guy with dreadlocks on the other side of the room.

  The girl looks back and forth between the other guy and Sebastian. “Um…he doesn’t look like the picture on the team’s website. Bash isn’t…um…”

  “Isn’t what?” Sebastian has one eyebrow raised challengingly.

  “Not, um…never mind.” The girl flushes as she stammers out her reply.

  “I guess you’d better go say hi then, since that’s who you’re looking for. Bye.” Sebastian’s grin is positively evil, and Marcus is having trouble holding back his laughter.

  Once the blonde has slunk away, Sebastian starts snickering. “Ugh. Groupies. So annoying.”

  “Yeah,” Marcus agrees, “I feel you. Psych groupies are pretty bad, too. I’m constantly fighting them off. That’s why I always carry a hardcover copy of Foucault.”

  Sebastian laughs harder, and Marcus feels the knot in his stomach loosen slightly. He’s not jealous. Not in the slightest. It’s just that the girl was annoying, is all. And the fact that Sebastian agrees with this accurate assessment doesn’t mean anything. Not being into annoying people is not a sexual orientation.

  “WHOOT! Finish off that drink, Marcus, because it’s time for round two of infinity!” Ajay has elbowed his way back over to them, his face lit up with a maniacal grin. “We’ve gotta celebrate!”

  “Celebrate what, exactly?” Marcus is apprehensive, but he drains his drink anyway, handing his empty glass over to Ajay, who begins refilling it with a generous serving of vodka.

  “We’re celebrating your new apartment, obviously!” Ajay winks as he drops two umbrellas into Marcus’ drink.

  Sebastian groans loudly. “No. You didn’t.”

  “I did, Seb, I absolutely did.” Ajay shoves the drink into Marcus’ hand. “Look Marcus, I talked to Seb’s brother. Jackson. He just left home, and I set him up with an apartment here in the building. Wanted him to stay with us, but I also didn’t want to have to cover up a murder when he and Seb inevitably end up duking it out, so he’s on his own right now in a two bedroom. You can have the second bedroom, rent free if you need.”

  Marcus blanches. “It’s not…I can pay rent. It’s not about that.”

  Ajay shrugs carelessly. “Fine then, pay what you’re paying now. It doesn’t matter. Shit, you already sound like Jack. You two’ll get along.”

  “You will not,” Sebastian objects. “Marcus, don’t do it. Jack is an annoying little fucker. He’s stubborn as hell, a total snob, and he doesn’t know when to keep his trap shut.”

  “That’s right, he and Seb are very similar,” Ajay says with a nod, ducking as Sebastian throws a halfhearted punch his way. “If you can tolerate this loser for more than five minutes, Jack will be easy.”

  Marcus hesitates. He wants to say yes, but he also doesn’t want to be indebted. It’ll just make things harder when Ajay inevitably gets tired of having him around.

  Before he can object, Ajay makes one last plea. “Come on, please? Just…just meet with him first, before you decide. Look, the guy’s had a tough time, and he could use the company. You’d be doing us a solid.”

  “Leave me out of this, Kumar.” Sebastian glares as Ajay, folding his arms across his chest.

  Ajay sighs. “Fine. You’d be doing me a solid. Please? Just meet with him? For me?”

  Marcus feels his resolve crumbling as he looks into Ajay’s wide eyes. “Alright…I’ll meet with him. Guess it might be nice to live somewhere I don’t have to sleep with a baseball bat next to the bed.”

  “YES!” Ajay pumps his fist in the air. “You won’t regret it! This is the best idea I’ve ever had! I am a motherfuckin’ genius!”

  Sebastian reaches out to pat Marcus’ shoulder, shaking his head. “I warned you, man. Once Kumar latches onto you, game over. You’re in too deep now.”

  Marcus manages a shaky smile in return. He’s all too aware of how deep he’s in. All he can do now is hope that he can manage to keep his head above water for a bit longer.

  Chapter 4

  Marcus is not an early riser by habit, but it’s especially difficult on mornings after a long night out, and last night most definitely counts as a very long night. Ajay had been insistent that Marcus match him, drink for drink, including an ill-advised game of vodka pong. Sebastian had spent most of the night with his arm around Marcus’ shoulders, peppering him with movie quotes and laughing at Marcus’ snarky responses.

  Marcus is still confused by Sebastian’s behavior. All of the football players seem to have their fair share of groupies and hangers-on, but Sebastian and Ajay have the most by far. Marcus understands why Ajay had shrugged them off all night after a friendly hello, choosing instead to let an increasingly belligerent Blair balance coasters, tissue boxes, sneakers, and other random items on his head.

  Sebastian, on the other hand, had barely acknowledged anyone at all, other than Blair, Ajay, and Marcus. When some hopeful person would try to praise his record-breaking stats last year, or wish him good luck for the upcoming season, Sebastian would smile coolly, maybe throw in a disinterested nod if the person was lucky, before ignoring them completely in favor of sticking a cocktail umbrella in Ajay’s hair.

  Marcus can understand that part, at least. He has little patience for annoying people himself, though he’s usually more polite about it. Getting constantly bombarded with inane chatter over the years must have lowered Sebastian’s patience for bullshit considerably, not that Marcus suspects he ever had much patience to begin with.

  The confusing part is the part where Sebastian includes Marcus amongst the few people that he chooses to hang out with. As far as Marcus can tell, the only people included in this group are Ajay, Blair, and a few of the other players. People whom Sebastian has known for years. People who are loud, and friendly, and funny and…

  What sets Marcus apart enough to be added to a group like that?

  Marcus shakes his head, trying to clear his mind as he pushes open the door to the Starbucks, scann
ing the nearly empty store. He notices a guy around his age standing stiffly near the counter with his arms folded across his chest. The boy is pale, with dark cropped hair, a slight build, and a face that could be a softer, less striking version of Sebastian’s.

  There’s at least a ninety percent chance that this is Jackson. Still, Marcus is wary as he approaches, trying to pick up some sign of recognition that this guy is looking for him, too. His stomach twists at the thought of having to awkwardly explain to a stranger why he came over for a chat and called him by the name of an old Outkast song.

  Luckily, once the guy catches Marcus’ eye, he nods slightly, a small smile on his face as he holds out one hand in greeting.

  “You’re Marcus Williams, I’m guessing?” The guy’s voice is low and smooth like Sebastian’s, although he’s speaking at just above a whisper.

  Marcus smiles back gratefully. “Yeah, that’s me,” he says as he returns the handshake. “That means you must be Jackson Lockwood.”

  Jackson nods solemnly. “Yes, I am. I go by Jackson, or Jack. Not Jackie. Just Jack.”

  “Sure thing,” Marcus says with a nod. He shoves his hand back into his pocket, unsure of what to say next. “So…I hear you’re looking for a roommate?”

  Jackson rolls his eyes. “I guess. It’s moreso that I’m looking for a way to get Kumar to shut up about me needing a roommate, honestly.”

  “Oh…” Marcus’ stomach drops a little. “Look, if you’re not…if you don’t want to do this, it’s fine. But, I mean…that’s kinda why I’m here, too. To get Ajay to shut up about it.”

  Jackson lets out a short laugh. “Ugh. He’s impossible. I would say I don’t know how Sebastian has put up with him all these years, but Sebastian is even worse.”

  Marcus laughs nervously but doesn’t reply. They fall into a stilted silence for a few moments before Jackson clears his throat and gestures towards the cashier.

  “Should we grab some coffee? Get to know each other a bit, see if we can live together without any major incidents?”