AT THIRTEEN, MY TWO BEST FRIENDS AND I SHAVED OUR HEADS SO OUR FRIEND WITH C*NCER WOULDN'T FEEL ALONE. SEVENTEEN YEARS LATER HE INVITED JUST THE THREE OF US TO HIS 30TH BIRTHDAY, SET A TABLE FOR FOUR, AND HANDED US EACH AN ENVELOPE. THE SECRET HE'D KEPT FOR SIX MONTHS MEANT THE PROMISE WE MADE AS BOYS WAS ABOUT TO SAVE HIS LIFE — IF ONE OF US MATCHED.
When we were thirteen, three boys walked into a sick friend's bedroom with shaved heads so he wouldn't be the only one.
Seventeen years later, that friend set a table for four and handed us three envelopes.
His c*ncer was back, and the registry had found no match anywhere in the country.
He hadn't invited us to say goodbye. He'd invited us because we were the only family he had left to ask.
Chapter 1: Three Little Potatoes
My name is Chris, and the most important thing I ever did, I did at thirteen with a pair of my dad's electric clippers.
Our friend Noah had been diagnosed with c*ncer. The chemo had taken his hair, his energy, and most of his courage. His mother told us he was terrified to go back to school and be stared at as "the sick kid."
So Ryan said the thing that changed all of us: "What if Noah wasn't the only kid at school without hair?"
That night, Jake, Ryan, and I shaved our heads. We looked like three little potatoes and we could not stop laughing.
The next morning we showed up at Noah's door. When he looked up from his bed and saw three bald thirteen-year-olds grinning at him, he broke down crying and threw his arms around us.
"We're in this together," I told him.
His c*ncer went into remission that year. We walked him to school, carried his books, and became, the four of us, something closer than friends. At graduation we made a promise: no matter where life took us, we were brothers forever.
Then life took us to different states, the way it does. The daily calls became weekly, then occasional.
Seventeen years later, Noah asked the four of us to dinner.
And I had no idea I was driving four hours to be asked the most important question of my life.
Chapter 2: A Table Set for Four
The private room had four chairs and no one else.
"Are we the whole birthday party?" I asked. Jake wondered where Noah's family was.
Then Noah walked in, and for a second I barely knew him. Thinner. Grayer. Exhausted in a way I recognized, because I'd seen it on a thirteen-year-old once.
