Audible Page 4

  “Good idea,” Marcus says, his mood brightening at the promise of caffeine. They make their way to the counter, give their orders to the barista (a soy latte for Marcus, a toasted coconut cold brew for Jackson), and wait silently for their drinks. After a few minutes of foot shuffling and awkward smiles, their drinks are ready and they’re seated across from each other at a table in the corner.

  Jackson takes a long sip of his drink, eyeing Marcus intently. “So. Williams. Tell me about yourself.”

  “Not much to tell,” Marcus says with what he hopes passes as a careless shrug. “Born and raised in Buffalo. I’m a Junior. Psych major. Snare drummer in the marching band. Trying to find an apartment that’s not infested with roaches and racists. That’s about it.”

  Jackson raises an eyebrow. “That’s it?”

  “Yeah.” Marcus takes a sip of his latte, avoiding Jackson’s piercing gaze.

  Jackson rolls his eyes. “Come on, Williams. You must be more interesting than that. Kumar says you’re a transfer student?”

  Marcus nods, trying not to grip his cup too tightly. “Uh, yeah.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  Jackson sighs heavily. “And…what’s the story there? Where’d you transfer from?”

  “Boston.”

  “Boston…University? Boston College? Boston Clown Institute?” Jackson is smirking now, causing Marcus to chew on his lower lip nervously.

  “No, a…smaller school. Just outside of the city proper.”

  “Whoa, slow down there,” Jackson says dryly. “No need to overload me with so much info. Why’d you transfer?”

  Marcus shrugs noncommittally. “Eh, you know. It’s Boston. Shitty pizza, annoying accents…”

  Jackson nods. “Right. The accents. Not something you’d notice on a campus visit. Must have been a nasty shock.”

  Marcus scowls as he takes another sip of his drink. “I just needed a change, that’s all. Something different.”

  Jackson presses his lips together for a moment before turning one corner of his mouth up into a half smile. “I get it. Same for me.”

  “What’s your story then?” Marcus asks, grateful for the chance to change the subject.

  Jackson leans back in his chair, chewing on the end of his straw thoughtfully. “Nothing special. I was at Princeton last year. I just transferred in during the first week of classes. A last minute thing.”

  Marcus furrows his brow. “Last minute transfer? Is that a real thing? It took months for me to get all my paperwork squared away.”

  “Well…” Jackson says, “Sebastian and I…know some people. Plus Sebastian is the school’s star football player. He and Kumar playing catch brings in some serious revenue. It’s in the school’s best interest to keep them happy.”

  Marcus blinks. “Oh. That’s…that must be nice.”

  Jackson wrinkles his nose. “It depends, I suppose. Our family is…intense. The textbook example of the worst sort of old money. I decided I didn’t want to be under their thumb any longer, so I cut them off and left.”

  “Wow,” Marcus muses. “That must have been rough.” As strained as his relationship with his dad has been since Moms died, Marcus can’t imagine not speaking to him at all.

  “Not really,” Jackson replies. “The hardest part was having to hear Sebastian say I told you so.”

  Marcus’ interest is piqued as the mention of Sebastian. “Oh? He doesn’t get along with them either?”

  “Sebastian has never gotten along with anyone,” Jackson chuckles. “Except for Kumar, I guess. But no, Sebastian has been fighting them ever since we were kids. Always pushing their buttons. Eventually he ran off to live with Kumar, which was the last straw for my parents. It was one thing to have a troublemaker for a kid, that’s nothing new, but to have their eldest son denounce them in favor of people like the Kumars, well…”

  “So what made you leave, then?” Marcus asks. “Somehow I don’t see you as a rabble-rouser.”

  “Not in the least,” Jackson says with a smirk. “I always thought Sebastian was an idiot, pissing them off rather than playing the game. But then I…um…”

  Jackson looks uncomfortable, which surprises Marcus. Up until this point, he’d been getting the impression that there was nothing that could ruffle Jackson’s feathers.

  Jackson takes a deep breath before continuing. “I, um…I basically acknowledged to myself that I was bisexual. And I’m trans, so…”

  Marcus’ eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Oh. Wow. So your parents didn’t like that?”

  Jackson winces. “Well…it’s more that they didn’t…they said that if I wanted to play drag king for a while, that’d be fine, but I’d eventually have to grow up and accept reality.”

  Marcus nearly chokes on his latte. “What the fuck?”

  “Yeah,” Jackson says, fiddling with his straw. “I guess I could have kept pretending but…at some point, that stops becoming an option.”

  “I get it,” Marcus says, as though he’s not the World’s Leading Expert on Pretending and Avoidance. “I’m glad you’re out of there.”

  “I am too, usually,” Jackson says, “but sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it. Now I’m stuck with Sebastian and Kumar hovering over me. At least they pay the bills until my trust fund comes through next year. Though I am keeping a record of what I owe. Kumar won’t get off playing martyr that easily.”

  “Yeah, he can be…a lot,” Marcus says with a small smile. “Well, I can promise you, I’ll stay out of your hair and won’t answer the door when he stops by if you need some peace and quiet.”

  “Perhaps we could install an extra deadbolt,” Jackson suggests. He sips the last of his drink, placing the empty cup on the table. “If you want to move in, I’m fine with it. Just be sure to clean the Vitamix properly if you use it—hand wash only, no dishwasher—and we’ll be cool.”

  Marcus grins. “I think I can handle that.” He looks down at his phone to check the time. “Shit, speaking of Ajay, I’ve got to meet him for a tutoring session.” He stands up from his chair, looking around for the trash can. “You’ve got my number. Just text me and let me know when you’re ready to have me move in. I don’t have much stuff. It won’t take long.”

  “I’ll come with you.” Jackson stands up as well, plucking Marcus’ cup from his hand and walking towards the trash can. “Might as well let Kumar know that his matchmaking was a success.”

  “I mean, you don’t have to come along,” Marcus says. “I can tell him.”

  “No. I’ll come,” Jackson insists. “He’ll bombard me with texts anyway. Might as well tell him in person so he leaves me alone.”

  Marcus is surprised at Jackson’s insistence at tagging along, but he doesn’t question it. He gets the feeling that Jackson doesn’t like to be questioned too closely, and seeing as Jackson was perceptive enough to stop prying into Marcus’ personal drama, he’s more than happy to return the favor.

  They make their way to the library study room, where they find Ajay blaring Kendrick Lamar and taking ridiculous Snapchats. Ajay grins brightly as Marcus and Jackson enter the study room.

  “My boys! Did you two make nice? Gonna be best buds now? Ready for some slumber parties and pillow fights? Maybe share some popcorn and gossip?”

  Jackson sighs heavily. “Please, Kumar. I don’t want to know what sort of things you and my brother get up to in your apartment.”

  “Ha!” Ajay snaps a picture of Jackson and Marcus. “We never pillow fight. Sebastian knows I’d kick his ass. Like I do at everything else.”

  “That’s fairly confident talk coming from someone who lost five games of ski ball in a row to a seven-year-old,” Jackson says dryly.

  Ajay laughs as he types frantically on his phone. “That doesn’t count! That little cousin of yours has got freakishly good aim. Good arm, too. She’ll throw a sick spiral when she’s older…Aha! Check your phones.”

  Marcus looks down at his phone, which is showing a new Sn
apchat notification from Ajay. He opens the app to see a pic of himself and Jackson standing awkwardly in the study room, with best budz written across the middle, framed in cartoon hearts and pot leaves.

  Jackson rolls his eyes. “How creative.” He slides his phone into his back pocket. “But yes, we’ve agreed to be roommates. Feel free to stop pestering me about it now.”

  “Don’t lie,” Ajay says, grinning as he rocks his chair back to swing his feet up onto the table. “You love it when I pester you.”

  “Whatever you say,” Jackson says with a shrug, although Marcus notes that Jackson’s cheeks are starting to flush.

  “So? When’s the big move?” Ajay asks. “Seb and I can help you move your shit. Blair, too. Jackie, you still need to meet her, by the way. I don’t know how you two keep missing each other somehow.”

  “I don’t know either. I guess we’re both on different schedules.”

  It doesn’t escape Marcus’ notice that Jackson presses his lips together in distaste at the mention of Blair, staring intently at the study table and apparently not feeling the need to correct Ajay for calling him Jackie. Marcus snickers, causing Jackson to shoot him an icy glare. Marcus clears his throat quickly to cover up his amusement. No sense in pissing off his new roommate before he even moves in. And hell, Marcus knows what it’s like, to want someone in ways they can’t possibly want you back.

  At least Jackson knows where he stands with Ajay. At least Ajay isn’t a liar.

  Not like he was.

  The door to the study room swings open, and Sebastian strides in wearing mesh shorts and an Under Armour running tank. Marcus wills himself not to stare as Sebastian runs a hand through his sweat-dampened hair as he shoots Marcus a friendly grin.

  “Hey Marcus, what’s up? You have fun last night?”

  “Yeah,” Marcus says, hoping he doesn’t sound too eager. “It was a good time. Not as fun as last Friday when I played Candy Crush for six hours straight, but still. Not bad.”

  Sebastian laughs. “Sounds wild. We should do it again sometime.”

  “Do what, a party, or Candy Crush?” Marcus asks with a straight face, not thinking at all of anything else he’d like to do with, or to, Sebastian.

  “Candy Crush, obviously,” Sebastian shoots back. “For real though, we need to play Call of Duty. I have to defend my rep.” He pauses, chewing on his lower lip for a moment before continuing.

  “Ajay said you guys were meeting today. I was on my way to the Wawa, wanted to stop by and see if you wanted…” Sebastian trails off, scowling as he notices Jackson. “The fuck are you doing here, Jack? You don’t take Chem.”

  “Wow, nothing gets past you, does it?” Jackson says in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “I just stopped by because I treasure your pleasant company so much.”

  “I am always pleasant, you ass,” Sebastian retorts. “You know, just because we live together and go to the same school now, that doesn’t mean you have to be up my ass all the time.”

  “We don’t live together,” Jackson says with a grimace, “and you’re the one who’s always barging into my apartment to eat my granola bars and steal my laundry detergent.”

  “It’s not my fault that you’ve got the good granola bars,” Sebastian says defensively. “You know I don’t have time to trek all the way across town to the fucking Trader Joe’s. If you don’t want me to eat them, then don’t buy them.”

  “How does that make any sense?” Jackson says with a huff. “You’re impossible.”

  “No one will disagree with you there, Jackie,” Ajay says smoothly, “but let’s simmer down and not scare off Marcus before he’s even moved in, yeah?”

  “You said yes?” Sebastian turns to look at Marcus, raising an eyebrow. “You’re moving in with Jack?”

  “Yeah,” Marcus says, nodding. “I guess I am.”

  “Awesome.” Sebastian is grinning in a way that makes Marcus’ stomach knot in a way that’s both unpleasant and warm at the same time. “It’ll be cool to hang out more.”

  “Sure,” Marcus agrees, pretending not to notice the lines of Sebastian’s trap muscles as he scratches the back of his neck.

  “Oh! Marcus! You run, don’t you?” Ajay is looking back and forth between Sebastian and Marcus with a Cheshire cat grin spread across his face.

  Marcus’ brow furrows. “Uh, yeah, I do. In the mornings usually.”

  “Perfect! Seb runs, too. Obviously. You two should run together. Seb is getting slower on the team runs. He needs someone kicking his ass.”

  “Fuck you,” Sebastian says, laughing. “I’m faster than anyone else on the team.” He turns back to Marcus, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “But yeah, you know, it’d be cool to run together. You know, motivate each other. If you want.”

  Marcus imagines having Sebastian alongside him on his morning runs, all tan and flushed, breathing heavily as rivulets of sweat run down his neck, catching on his collarbone.

  Fuck.

  “Yeah,” he says with a weak smile, “sounds great.”

  Chapter 5

  Sebastian: gonna be at the game tonite?

  Marcus stares down at the text from Sebastian, shaking his head and smirking as he replies.

  Marcus: no. im gonna drum and march around the apt courtyard.

  Sebastian: lol u little shit. stop by the locker room before u get into ur nerd suit and wish me luck?

  Marcus: like your uniform is less nerdy? you parade around in tights and a shiny hat.

  Sebastian: u know u like my tights dont lie ;)

  Marcus frowns down at his phone. He hates that it’s been weeks and he still can’t tell if Sebastian is flirting with him for real or not. Not that it matters, of course. For reasons unknown to Marcus, Sebastian considers him a friend, and Marcus has few enough of those these days. He’d rather not take a chance and risk scaring Sebastian off for good with an ill-timed date request.

  Marcus: nah. not a fan. if its not assless chaps it might as well be sweatpants.

  Sebastian: bro don’t knock sweatpants. they are comfy stylish and appropriate for all occasions.

  Marcus: true tho.

  Sebastian: but for real, stop by when u get here. if u have time.

  Marcus: k will do.

  Marcus puts his phone down, gathering up his marching band uniform and drumsticks. As he packs his backpack, he pauses to take a deep breath, trying to keep his stomach from twisting into knots.

  He’s not okay today. His mind is racing, he can’t remember the new formations for their marching routine, he still hasn’t gotten over how he embarrassed himself by tripping over a rogue cymbal at the last practice, and he’s fairly certain that everyone on campus is going to be talking shit about him after their halftime performance when he inevitably fucks everything up and makes a fool of himself, in front of thousands of people, of course, and…

  Marcus drops his backpack onto the bed, closing his eyes tightly and rubbing his temples gently with his fingertips. It’s not real, he tries to remind himself. All this freaking out is just his meds acting up again, messing with his brain. This happens occasionally, during his low points. The meds don’t do their job, so he has to adjust his dosage to compensate.

  Except it’s not working this time. Usually, this is when Marcus goes to his doctor and asks for help, but this new doctor is worthless. He had asked about adjusting his dosage once before, and she’d been immediately resistant. If he asks her again, she’ll probably just want him to talk more and maybe do a yoga retreat or something. She might even take him off the meds completely, which Marcus knows from experience will not lead to anything good.

  He’s not okay, but at least with the meds, he knows that he’s not okay, and that has to count for something.

  Marcus is startled from his thoughts by the buzz of his phone. He can’t help but smile a little as he reaches for it. Sebastian might not be into him in a yes-homo way, but he’s funny and cute and an all-around welcome distraction from Marcus’ curre
nt shitty thought process. Marcus opens his messages, prepared to see a snarky comment, or a selfie with Sebastian making a weird face during one of Ajay’s overbearing pep talks, or maybe a pic of Ajay with something ridiculous scrawled across the back of his undershirt in marker.

  He is not at all prepared to see another text from Pete.

  Pete: hey man…i’ll be in ur neck of the woods next month. if u wanted to meet up.

  Pete: no pressure. i know it might be weird, or u might not want to see me. but i figured i’d give u a heads up. give u some time to think about it.

  Pete: it would be great to see u again. if u want.

  Marcus sits down on the bed, feeling the blood pounding through his veins. He doesn’t want to see Pete again. He doesn’t want to think about Boston. He doesn’t want to think about him.

  You think too much, Marcus. Anything will sound wrong once you twist the words enough. It just goes to show how intelligent you are, that you’re bringing up these concerns. You have to trust me though…nothing bad is going to happen. Don’t think…just relax and enjoy it.

  The loud knock on Marcus’ bedroom door startles him so badly that he drops his phone to the ground with a clatter.

  “Williams? Are you alive in there?”

  Marcus lets out a shaky breath that he didn’t realize he was holding. “Um…Jack?”

  “Obviously? Who else would it be?” The door creaks open a crack. “Can I come in or are you doing something embarrassing?”

  Marcus hastily picks up his phone and rubs his eye with his fist. “Yeah, sure. Come on in.”

  The door swings open and Jackson walks in, wearing a faded pair of jeans and an olive green shirt that reads I’m With Genius with an arrow pointing upwards. He raises one eyebrow at Marcus inquisitively, but doesn’t mention anything about Marcus’ flustered appearance.

  “Are you ready to head out? You’ve got to be there in an hour, right?”

  Marcus nods slowly. “Yeah, just getting my shit together. I’ll be out of your hair in a few.”

  “Great,” Jackson says, “I’m ready when you are.”

  “Ready for what?” Marcus asks, standing up and slinging his bag over his shoulder.