Nick was in the middle of his second cup of bitter coffee when his phone rang. Alex Moore displayed on the screen, and Nick’s heart sank. Shit, Alex. Alex and his fucking party. Nick had forgotten what time—and really, what day—it was with everything that had happened. It was almost six now, the end of the work day, and he’d thought he’d get to go home and relax in front of a TV show marathon, drowning his sorrow in ramen noodles. Not quite. Nick almost let the call go to voice mail. Knowing he wouldn’t hear the end of it, he clicked Accept and stepped outside the mechanic’s lobby.
“Nick!” Alex roared into the phone. “Where have you been? You better be stuck in traffic right now.”
“I’m actually stuck at a mechanic’s.”
“Stop playing, man. What time are you really heading out here tonight?”
“Uh . . . Um . . . Fuck,” Nick murmured under his breath as he kicked the curb. Guilt crept under his skin. It wasn’t that he’d forgotten about Alex, so much as Nick had been strategically putting off thinking about him. In order for Nick to be in grad school, he had to be good at compartmentalizing or he’d become overwhelmed by all he had to do. To even think about Alex’s wedding, happening at the end of June, made him want to break out in hives. There was too much to consider, and now, way too much he couldn’t afford. This weekend was supposed to be reserved for a small party between the groomsmen, and then Alex, and his other friend Levi, getting fitted for tuxes along with Nick. It was supposed to be a fun reunion of all three of them, reminiscent of their University of Toronto days. But now everything felt like a burden, and in spite of Nick loving Alex (and, to a certain degree, Levi) as his best friends, he didn’t know if he could face Toronto.
“Don’t leave me hanging, Nick. What’s up?”
Nick sighed. “I can’t come tonight. There’s just no way. My car won’t start. And apparently I’ve been driving with my brake lines perilously close to cutting out. It’s a wonder I’m alive, really.”
“Oh, oh wow.” Alex’s voice took on a serious—yet parental—tone he must have used in his high school classroom when he was teaching. “That’s terrible.”
“Yeah. New brakes and new battery. Bad news.”
“That’s not good.”
“Yeah, it’s not.” Nick was silent for a while. He kicked some pebbles and felt utterly wretched about the whole thing. Alex’s voice hadn’t changed from the parental tone, and Nick didn’t like feeling chastised, even in a small way. “I can probably make it out tomorrow to get fitted for the tux, though. I know there’s no way of getting around that. But the party tonight I can’t attend. Not even if I took a bus.”
“Okay, I think that’s a good solution,” Alex said. “I’m glad the tux fitting can still happen, and I look forward to seeing you.”
“But?” Nick asked. “C’mon, man. I know you’re giving me teacher tone right now. What else is up?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Bullshit,” Nick challenged. In addition to being a high school teacher, Alex was the youngest in their friend group by a couple of months, and he was the one who kept everyone together and happy. Even if Nick didn’t mean to miss their clubbing experience tonight, it was as if he’d missed out on the wedding itself.
When Alex sighed, Nick knew they were getting somewhere. Alex was going back into social mode, and that meant being honest with Nick for what felt like the first time in months.
“I just miss you, you know? It’s already like you’re a completely different person because of the PhD. At least you did your master’s close by, but now . . . you’re stuck in your ivory tower.”
“Not a chance. I’m the only person here who refuses to change. Still a stubborn Romantic with a capital R at heart, which is why I’m in school. Studying the Romantics. Forget ivory towers, man. And,” Nick added with urgency, “I’m still your best man. I’m still coming to your wedding. Even if I can’t stand the bachelor party you’re having.”
“We could get a stripper for you! I don’t mind, and there’s lots of time to rearrange that,” Alex said. Nick was the only gay one in their group of friends. Usually it didn’t matter, since they bonded far more often about music than they did about women. Alex’s fairy-tale romance with Erin, his university girlfriend, and the subsequent wedding plans had changed their dynamic—but not in the way Nick had anticipated. Instead of being bored senseless by the wedding details, he found himself longing for them way, way too much.
“Nah, don’t worry about getting me a beefcake for your party. It’s not about me, you know? It’s your wedding and your party. I’ll go and maybe talk to some of the girls about something innocuous. Maybe they like the same movies as me.”
“Maybe.” Alex laughed a little. “I just wish you could have been around for the house party tonight.”
“Me too, but really, having a party tonight and then a bachelor party seems excessive. You straights are monsters.”
“Hey now,” Alex said, still lighthearted. “It’s my last week of decadence. Or something like that.”
“Yeah, something.” Nick rolled his eyes. “At least you have Levi tonight, and he can champion a party well enough. Tomorrow, you’ll have me. And the rest of the weekend, we can see how things go. Sound good?”
“Yeah, really good. You’re going to come tomorrow with the car?”
“Um . . .” Nick glanced across the street to the GO Bus terminal. The sign’s green and white logo seemed like a beacon in the night, especially since they were the only bus company that went directly from Waterloo to Toronto at least twice a day, even on the weekends. “Nah, I have another plan. I’ll work it out. Just save me a seat for lunch before the tuxes, okay?”
“Okay,” Alex said, his voice lighter now. “Stay safe, my man.”
“You too.”
When Nick hung up the phone, he remained on the curb for a while longer, his thoughts a jumbled mess. Ever since Alex had proposed to Erin, there had been a rift in their friendship. Nick had thought it was because he’d taken his PhD to a new school two hours away, but he knew that wasn’t true. His friendship with Levi had still remained the same, even if Levi had also changed from the nerdy, six-foot-four lanky guy who loved punk to the big-shot stock trader in Toronto.
No—the change had everything to do with Alex’s wedding, and as the date approached, Nick felt it in his gut like an ulcer. None of it seemed fair. Nick wanted a wedding, probably more than anyone he’d ever known, but his desire had always been stifled or kept under wraps. He had heard all the arguments against getting married, the clichés, the tropes, how it still reinforced heteronormativity for gays, but he didn’t care. He wanted the tux for himself, and he wanted to pick the colours. He wanted to rent out the large hall to have the first dance with someone, then file off into a plane for a dream honeymoon. But more than any of the ephemera associated with a wedding, Nick wanted the husband. The person by his side—the love of his life. But he also knew, with the way things had been going lately, this dream would never happen.
“Hey, Nick?” Greg stepped out of the mechanic’s office, scanned the parking lot, and located Nick across the street. He waved him over. “Come on, man. You ready to go?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Nick nodded, still shaking away the lingering hope under his skin. “I’ll be right there.”
“So how has your dilemma been?” Tucker asked.
Nick groaned before shucking his bag onto their wooden table. Tucker leaned against the counter, still drinking from the same mug of coffee that he’d had earlier in the day. Their kitchen was devoid of any dishes, and it looked as if the counters had been scrubbed until they shone. Which meant that Tucker had been avoiding work all day, cleaning like a fiend while simultaneously listening to audiobooks about the civil war. Anything but his dissertation.
“I’m exhausted, that’s how I am.” Nick walked past Tucker to the fridge, only to close the door after he saw nothing that was his to eat inside. “And I have no car.”
“I figured that from the cute guy driving you home. Sorry, man. I know it sucks. If it makes you feel better, please eat my leftover Chinese food.”
“What?” Nick looked sheepishly into the fridge and then back at Tucker. “Are you sure?”
“Definitely sure. I don’t like whatever it is.”
“Why did you get it, then? Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, you know. Just odd.”
Tucker shrugged. “I actually can’t read the local menu, so I just pick numbers, which I do know the Mandarin for. Sometimes it’s good. Other times . . . it’s yours.”
“Well, normally I would tell you to just go to a different place with an English menu, but I know you’re an odd creature, Tucker, and right now you’re also a lifesaver.” Nick emptied the take-out container into a small bowl and slipped it in their microwave. Tucker remained leaning on the counter, his skinny body almost a forty-five-degree angle as he continued to drink coffee. When Nick took his newly acquired dinner to the table, Tucker followed and sat across from him.
“It was odd not having you around. I got a lot of cleaning done.”
“I see that. You still avoiding your dissertation.” Nick stated it like a fact rather than a question. Tucker’s pale skin flamed pink.
“I know the writing is in my head. I just have to find the right words before I put it down.”
Nick snorted and took a large bite. He realized he hadn’t eaten all day, other than the coffees at the mechanic’s place, and slowly fell into silence as he devoured almost everything from the container.
Tucker was a year ahead of Nick in his PhD program. This was his fourth year, but definitely not his last. Unless he somehow managed to “find the right words” in the next three months, it looked like Tucker was going to be around for another semester. Which Nick could use. Tucker was always on time with the rent money and kept the small, two-bedroom place spotless. He was also really good with finding meals Nick would like.
Nick set down the container that he’d practically licked clean. “What number was that? It was delicious.”
“Four.”
“Get four more often.”
Tucker rolled his eyes. “Is there anything else you need? You’re acting a little odd.”
“The car is really fucked. New battery and brakes. Gonna cost a couple grand that I don’t have right now. I will have it in the future, and I know time makes everything, especially money problems, a lot better . . . but I’m having a hard time with mantras lately.”
“That’s because mantras aren’t anything. They’re purposely void of meaning so a reader can input whatever they want. ‘This too shall pass’? That means nothing. But say it to the right person, and it can mean everything.”
“Huh, I guess so,” Nick said. “And it’s run out of meaning for me. Especially when, on top of the car bills, I’m going to have to head to Toronto tomorrow for a tux fitting for a tux that I don’t think I can afford. Then there’s bus fare getting to Toronto and back. It’s . . . just really shitty right now. But I know it’s shitty for you too. That’s grad school.”
“Well, that’s what credit cards are for.”
“I can’t put a couple grand on my card. That’s . . . too much, and the interest rates would kill me.”
“So put the tux on it. Don’t think about the car right now. And,” Tucker said, digging into his pockets. He pulled out a couple of twenties and laid them on the table. “Take this for the bus.”
Nick blinked at the cash as if it were magic for several seconds. “No, man. I can’t take your money. Your number-four dinner is one thing, but this is too much.”
Tucker merely slid the money to Nick across the table. “Take it. You need it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Tucker said, rather impatiently. Nick touched the edge of the twenties and felt whatever pride he had wash away.
“Thank you. I’ll pay you back.”
“Consider this payback. You drove me around a lot last month. Remember the Hegel book? I use the car as much as you sometimes, you know.”
“Right, I suppose so.”
A couple of weeks ago, Tucker had needed to find some obscure German history book at the library, and when they didn’t have it, the two of them ended up taking an impromptu trip to Guelph, a town nearly an hour away, just to find a book that looked as if it were at least a thousand years old and bound in human skin. Nick had been grateful for the trip away from his office, so he hadn’t considered it something just for Tucker. Now, looking at the money in front of him, he knew it was an even enough trade. Not that he liked thinking that way. This would be enough for a bus ticket there and back to Toronto, he could put whatever tux on his credit card like Tucker said, and Greg had given him enough stalling tactics for the car. Things would be fine. Difficult, but fine.
“You’re an awesome friend, you do know this, right?”
Tucker smiled. “And a fantastic roommate. I mean, have you seen how clean this kitchen is?”
Nick laughed. “Yes, you’re great.”
Surprising himself, Nick rose from his chair and wrapped Tucker in a hug. Tucker’s skinny arms were stiff as he reciprocated, but he also seemed genuinely moved.
“Thanks, man,” Nick echoed. “I really do mean it.”
“Don’t mention it.”