When Aiden’s latest stepmom couldn’t tell them what Aiden’s middle name was (Harvard had felt sorry for her and mouthed Lionel in her direction, but Aiden elbowed him), Aiden’s stepmom had eventually slunk away in shame. Aiden got to stay almost the whole night.
His dad came out of a meeting to get Aiden, and he’d carried Aiden away, Aiden yelling his head off and kicking his feet against his dad’s ten-thousand-dollar suit jacket. Let me down, I want to stay! I want to be with Harvard, I have to be with Harvard!
The hour Harvard had spent alone in the hospital outside his father’s room was the longest of his life.
In the gray early morning, Aiden had showed up again. Harvard had been sitting on the chairs in the waiting room and Aiden crept in, wearing his pajama top with his jeans, hand in hand with one of the nurses he’d won over earlier.
Harvard had blinked his dry eyes, sleepless and burning. “How’d you get here?”
Aiden had shrugged his thin shoulders and smiled his timid little smile.
Harvard only found out later how Aiden effected his return. Seven years old, and he’d stolen his stepmom’s credit card and called a taxi to take him to the hospital.
Aiden had climbed up onto the hard gray hospital chairs with Harvard and they’d slept, holding hands, curled up under the same thin blue hospital blanket.
“I have to be with you, too,” Harvard had mumbled.
Dad had got through the crisis. Dad lived, and Harvard did, too. Because of Aiden.
Aiden’s just heartless, boys would tell Harvard, and it was as if they were talking about a stranger. Aiden had more heart than anyone Harvard had ever met. If those guys didn’t get that, none of them was the right guy.
One day, once Aiden was done having fun, there would be a right guy. Harvard had made his peace with that long ago.
But Harvard was tired of being good, yet not quite good enough for his mom and for his team and for Aiden. At last, he wanted something of his own.
He was, he admitted to himself, really hoping this date worked out.
Nicholas cleared his throat, and Harvard’s attention was recalled to his teammate in need. “I want to keep things the way they are now. For a little while longer. Have you ever felt that way?”
Yes, Harvard thought, thinking of childhood, of being the most important person in Aiden’s life as Aiden was the most important person in his. It couldn’t last.
“Yeah, I have. I don’t know if you can keep things the way they are, but I want you to know this. You’re not messing anything up by being here, Nicholas. You’re not messing anything up by having friends. We’re friends, aren’t we?”
Nicholas beamed, a huge stunned smile, as though he hadn’t known before. “Yeah, Captain!”
“I’m glad you’re here. I think we’re lucky to have you at Kings Row.”
He leaned against the wall, giving Nicholas’s shoulder a little nudge.
“I like,” Nicholas said shyly, “being part of the team. Having friends. I’d like to belong here, somehow. Sometimes I feel like I can. I keep thinking if I was just good enough, I could make everything work out. You know?”
Harvard nodded and thought about trying too hard. Supporting his mom, when he felt too overwhelmed and too young to do it right. Supporting Aiden’s relationships like a best friend should, when he secretly felt like doing anything but.
What mattered was being there. What mattered was always doing your best and hoping one day you’d get it right.
Harvard told Nicholas, “I know exactly what you mean.”
His answer made Nicholas turn to him, Nicholas’s face changing as though he could tell how sincerely Harvard meant it. Turning on a dime the way he did sometimes, Nicholas flashed him a grin full of renewed determination.
“I’m gonna get good enough, as fast as I can.”
“I believe in you.”
Nicholas glowed. “You do?”
“I’m your captain. It’s my job.”
“Thanks, Captain,” Nicholas told him.
“Anytime.” Harvard checked his watch. “Except for right now. I’m gonna be late for my date. Gotta go. Please keep working on your retreats.”
“Whoa, you date a lot, don’t you?” Nicholas sounded impressed. “I mean—you must be really popular. That’s cool; I totally get why. Have a great time.”
Harvard wished he was as cool as the freshman imagined he was, but he was glad he’d come to the salle, even if he hadn’t got any practice in.
When he got back to his room, he didn’t immediately start getting ready for his date.
Instead, he produced his essay and crossed out It’s all good now and wrote My dad is better now, but it was really hard at the time. My mom and my best friend got me through.
Then he checked the mirror, shared an expression of nervous agony with his reflection, slid on his new leather jacket he’d bought for practicality because leather protected you best if you wiped out on the roads, and went on his date.
Harvard didn’t want to let down anybody, including himself.
He rode his motorcycle out through the gleaming gates of Kings Row, through the quaint, winding streets of Kingstone, and past the town toward the houses high up in the hills. Streetlights painted an orange trail for him up through the curving road. His mom had given him directions to this guy Neil’s house, and Harvard followed them easily enough to a large white house with ivy growing up the walls, and a porch painted pale green. There was a boy already sitting on the porch steps, messing around with his phone.
His mom had promised him that he would like Neil. She’d said that he was the kind of guy who’d sit with his mom’s friends and act genuinely charming and happy to be there. Harvard hadn’t really understood that. Harvard’s mom was awesome, so who wouldn’t want to hang out with her? But he trusted her recommendation.
Now Harvard leaned forward against the handlebars of his bike, and understood what his mom had meant. The guy sitting on the porch steps had a relaxed air and brown hair that gave the impression of being untidy even though it was neat. He wore a flannel shirt, but a nice one. He’s, Harvard thought, unused to thinking this way but trying it out, cute?
Harvard didn’t experience a lightning strike, wasn’t suddenly certain of who or what he wanted. But he got a good feeling about this. He felt a little surer.
“Wow,” breathed the boy who must be Neil, which was—maybe? Harvard hoped?—a good sign.
Harvard smiled.
“Hey, I’m Harvard. It’s really good to meet you.”
11: SEIJI
Nicholas was angry with him. This was making the midnight feast even more awkward than it was always bound to be.
Seiji wished he were in the salle, but he was sitting in Dante and Bobby’s room feeling uncomfortable instead. Dante, the one with the peculiar cooking hobby, was making pasta sauce over a burner. Bobby, who was very small and enthusiastic, had asked to take a selfie showing Seiji was in his room.
“Dormitory rooms are designed to be uniform and anonymous,” Seiji pointed out. “The picture could be taken in any room, including my own. It would prove nothing.”
This seemed to dampen Bobby’s enthusiasm for a moment.
“I’ll know you were here!” Bobby said eventually. “Let’s just take it!”
Seiji took the picture willingly enough, since it would please Bobby, but it was a strain to figure out how to behave in unfamiliar surroundings. The least Nicholas could do was help him, but instead he was sulking in the corner. The only reasonable explanation was that Seiji had offended him. Seiji was always offending people, though Nicholas seemed to bounce back faster than most.
Seiji couldn’t figure out what the problem was. He hadn’t said anything worse to Nicholas than he usually did.
There was the incident on Friday night with Jesse by the side of the road, but that had obviously been more upsetting for Seiji himself than for Nicholas. What reason did Nicholas have to care about Jesse? Seiji supposed that Nich
olas might be sad to have an excellent fencer looking down on him, but Nicholas must accept that would keep happening until he got better.
Nicholas had no personal reason to care about Jesse. Other people cared a lot about what Jesse thought of them, but Seiji couldn’t picture Nicholas caring. Everyone liked Jesse better than Seiji, but Nicholas wouldn’t. Not even if, for some reason, Nicholas got to know Jesse and Jesse actually tried to be charming. Even then, Seiji was sure, though he didn’t have much basis for the certainty, that Nicholas would still like him better.
So it wasn’t about Jesse. It was something Seiji had done. But what?
Seiji got up, though it seemed awkward to do so, and sat next to Nicholas. He usually sat beside Nicholas, but Nicholas hadn’t explicitly saved him a seat. There was no seat to save, though. It was all floor.
Nicholas didn’t say hey or anything welcoming, like usual. Seiji sat there in silence and resented Nicholas for being angry with him.
“Want marshmallows?” offered Bobby.
That made Nicholas smile, even though he was giving Seiji the cold shoulder. “Yeah.”
Were they supposed to eat marshmallows as a side dish to pasta? That was disgusting.
“I don’t want marshmallows,” said Seiji. “Nicholas, reconsider eating marshmallows.”
Nicholas turned his furious dark stare on Seiji. Seiji stared back stonily. He didn’t even know why Nicholas was angry. People were always getting angry with him and never explained why. Nicholas was just like everyone else.
“If you want to go somewhere,” Nicholas mumbled, “you can just go.”
Many people had made clear to Seiji that his presence was unwelcome, but Nicholas never had before. Seiji glared at him and moved away. He didn’t care that Nicholas didn’t want him here. He was used to that, but he was shocked by Nicholas’s rudeness. Seiji had been invited to the midnight feast, just the same as Nicholas. This wasn’t Nicholas’s room.
Not that Nicholas could uninvite Seiji to his room. Since it was Seiji’s room, too.
Seiji nursed his justified outrage at Nicholas’s bad manners while Nicholas continued to sit sullenly in the corner. Seiji was enduring rudeness and expected to eat carbohydrates at an inappropriate hour with strangers. Harvard, who had arrived dragging Aiden behind him, went over to Nicholas and started telling jokes to make him laugh.
Seiji supposed Nicholas must have decided to be friends with the captain instead. That was fine with Seiji.
Eugene sidled over to Seiji and offered him a protein shake. Eugene had brought enough protein shakes for everyone, which Seiji found thoughtful, though nobody else had greeted the shakes with the appreciation they deserved.
“I made you hydrolyzed whey protein isolate like you like,” Eugene said encouragingly.
“Thank you,” said Seiji.
It was good Eugene was drinking protein shakes, which would optimize his performance, and considerate of him to provide Seiji with the same. Eugene was the only person at the midnight feast with whom Seiji wasn’t annoyed.
“You seem a bit quiet, bro,” Eugene remarked in a low voice. “Not that you’re what I’d describe as chatty, but normally you’d have accidentally insulted someone by now. Something wrong?”
He was tempted to snap, but Eugene was a teammate, too.
Seiji cleared his throat. “Nicholas is angry with me. I’m not sure why. Do you know why? I know you two socialize frequently.”
Eugene paused. “I don’t think Nicholas is angry with you.”
“No, he is,” said Seiji. “He told me to go away.”
“He probably just meant that you could go practice in the salle if you’re hating the midnight feast, dude,” said Eugene. “Your face went all grumpy cat when we broke out the marshmallows.”
Seiji opened his mouth to protest that Nicholas never cared when Seiji made faces, and never told him to go away, but Eugene continued.
“I think there’s something else going on.”
Seiji gave Eugene his full attention. “What?”
Eugene turned his protein shake in his hands for another moment. “We went to town Saturday, and some Kings Row guys there were awful to him. It’s been bothering me all weekend, actually. They acted like they were so far above Nicholas. They made it seem like he was going to shoplift! Which he wasn’t!” Eugene added hastily, as though Seiji might imagine Nicholas would.
The burner’s blue flame hissed. Harvard was talking about how delicious the pasta sauce smelled. Their captain was very good at making conversation.
Seiji frowned. “Why would people from our school represent Nicholas as a common thief?”
“Right? It sucks!” said Eugene. “You might know them? They were the first two guys to wash out of fencing tryouts. They think they’re so much better than Nicholas.”
“They think they’re better than Nicholas?” Seiji asked sharply. “But they can’t fence at all!”
“Bro…,” said Eugene. “I realize this concept might be difficult for you to grasp, but this is not about fencing. They were just being jerks.”
Seiji raised an eyebrow. “I’m familiar with the concept of people being jerks. Certain people on the fencing circuit used to refer to me as a samurai.”
Eugene’s open, friendly face was taken over by a confused scowl.
“Because I’m Japanese, and I’m excellent with a sword,” Seiji explained. He rolled his eyes. “Extremely droll.”
“Yeah, I’m familiar with those kinds of jerks, too. You should hear the stuff they say about me,” Eugene said, and buffeted Seiji with his shoulder. Seiji almost dropped his protein shake. “They think they’re better than Nicholas because he doesn’t have a lot of money.”
“Oh, Nicholas is on scholarship, isn’t he?” Seiji recalled. “Does his family have less money than most people at Kings Row?”
Another hissing burner silence ensued.
“Uh…,” said Eugene. “You hadn’t noticed that Nicholas is a bit different from everyone else?”
“Well, yes, obviously I have noticed that! What’s that got to do with money?”
Eugene wasn’t being very helpful.
Seiji considered this matter on his own. He supposed Nicholas spoke differently from other people, even though Nicholas didn’t come from very far away. He’d believed it must be a personal idiosyncrasy.
“Have you realized that Nicholas doesn’t have a lot of stuff?”
Seiji had noticed that Nicholas didn’t wear pajamas, like a normal person. He basically wore underwear to bed.
Was Nicholas too poor for pajamas? That was so sad.
“So, because Nicholas doesn’t have any money, these students mocked him by pretending he would steal?” Seiji clarified. On Eugene’s nod, Seiji scowled. “And now he’s upset. That’s wrong.”
To Seiji’s horror, Eugene slung an arm around his shoulders. Seiji had no idea why he was doing that. Eugene couldn’t possibly think bears would attack in Bobby and Dante’s room.
“Bro, we are in total agreement. I wish there was something we could do to get those guys back. But I guess the world sucks sometimes. Anyway, don’t worry about Nicholas. He’s tough.”
Why would Eugene have told Seiji all this information, unless he wanted Seiji to worry? Preventing Nicholas from being hurt seemed like basic friend behavior. Even Seiji could grasp that much.
Seiji squinted over at Nicholas. He didn’t appear distraught. He was laughing while Bobby dared him to stuff more marshmallows in his mouth. There was already an alarming number of marshmallows in Nicholas’s mouth.
“How would we get those guys back?” Seiji asked. “Like you were saying.”
Eugene blinked rapidly. “I was thinking it would be cool to play a totally excellent prank on them. Make them look as dumb as they are.”
Seiji shuddered. “I don’t think I want to… pull a prank.”
Pranks seemed undignified.
Eugene shrugged. “Yeah, I figured it wasn’t your scene, my man.”
My man was even worse than bro. Seiji endured.
He should’ve felt better now that he knew Nicholas was not angry with him, but somehow, he didn’t. He remained uncomfortable. Of course, he was still at this midnight feast.
Aiden didn’t appear to be enjoying the midnight feast, either. His face was stormy, when normally he was the kind of person who sailed through life on calm waters. Seiji sympathized with Aiden’s antifeast attitude, but he didn’t intend to bond with him. After all, in tryouts, Aiden had brought up seeing him lose against Jesse. He had known it would strike a nerve, and, humiliatingly, it had. Seiji had lost against Aiden, too.
Aiden’s glittering eyes always seemed to read Seiji like a book, as though Aiden saw things Seiji didn’t even know about himself.
Aiden’s lip curled back from his teeth in a snarl, distorting his face further. “What are you looking at, freshman?”
“I was looking at you,” said Seiji truthfully.
Those green eyes narrowed, seeing too much again. “Reliving the day you had to feel like a loser?”
Seiji’s gaze fell away from Aiden’s.
“Seiji isn’t a loser. Being a loser isn’t about whether you lose or win matches,” piped up Nicholas, and Harvard turned around to give Nicholas a fist bump.
Seiji frowned. “Why not? Do words just not have meanings anymore?”
He took this as confirmation, though, that Eugene had been right and Nicholas wasn’t angry with him, so he went back over to Nicholas and out of Aiden’s line of sight.
“Don’t eat an excessive amount of carbohydrates at this hour,” Seiji advised Nicholas.
“I’m gonna,” said Nicholas.
Seiji shook his head, pained. “Try some protein shake.”
Nicholas accepted the shake and took a gulp. Then he immediately spat half of it back into the glass. Seiji stared at him in dismay.
Nicholas wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “That’s gross.”
Fence--Striking Distance Page 10
