But if I know that going in, then I have the advantage. So I bite.

“You first.” I throw it back to him. It gives me a moment to think.

But Michael doesn’t hesitate. “Oh, I’m gay. I mean, come on. Look at me,” he teases and gives a fake muscleman pose. It causes his shirt to ride up again and his biceps, lean but well-defined muscles, to flex, and I can’t help but smile.

“I look like this, and I’m going to be a world-famous musician. I can’t lose.”

“A world-famous musician, huh?”

He nods firmly. “You heard it here first. I’m going to join a band, play for Wayne Shorter or Herbie Hancock or someone.”

“Who?”

Michael blinks owlishly. “Seriously? You don’t know who… Jazz musicians, Andre. Come on, now. You should know this.”

“Because I’m Black?”

“Because you seem like a cultured person,” he scoffs. “Do you at least know who Joan Didion is?”

I nod. “The author. Everyone knows her.”

He lets out a fake deep breath. “Thank God you at least know that cultural icon. I want to be an author like her too. Obviously, I’m still trying to figure this whole career-for-life thing out. But I’m certain I’m going to be some kind of artist. You can put your money on that one.”

I wonder, for a moment, what would happen if I told my parents I wanted to be a musician. Would they throw me out of the house? Would they even care? Music is a science and an art. Quarter notes, half notes—that’s all math, and I’m good at that.

But a musician is not a doctor. Nothing else matters besides that.

“Plus, it means I get to travel. Really see the world and its people, you know? That sounds great.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see him looking at me. “You never answered me.”

“Yes, I’m gay,” I say, as easily as he did. And, to keep with the theme of describing our futures, I add, “I want to be… I’m going to be a doctor.” I pause. “A double doctor, actually.”

He quirks his brow.

“I want to have an MD and a PhD. An MD in oncology and a PhD in biomedical research with a focus on transplant sciences, to be exact.”

Michael whistles. “That’s a cancer doctor, right?”

“Mm-hmm. There’s something cool about taking complex problems and finding a solution that saves someone’s life.”

“How did you decide?”

“It’s the most stable field out there. People will always get cancer,” I say, which isn’t a lie, but its easier than going into the whole I-had-cancer-so-it’s-close-to-my-heart discussion.

Michael’s face screws into a frown. “So you’re doing it because it’s stable? Not because you want to?”

“Can’t it be both?”

“Is it both?”