“Sure, I do. I’m sure you think you’re a good guy, because you’re nice when things are going your way, but you’re being awful right now. The time you learn if someone’s a loser,” said Harvard, “is when you see how they lose.”
That made Jay’s head jerk back up.
When it did, Jay’s smile had twisted in on itself. “And now get lost?”
“Do whatever you want,” said Harvard. “I already saw you lose a match. And now I know why you did.”
Jay slunk off without another word. A cold drop of water fell on Harvard’s nose, and he glanced up. Clouds were twisting above the Ferris wheel and the treetops, tangled like his Meemee’s dropped knitting.
“Hey, it’s starting to rain.”
Aiden’s voice was mild. “Is it? I guess I didn’t notice, what with the radiant heat from the epic burn you just delivered.”
Harvard’s gaze traveled from the sky to Aiden and stayed there. Aiden didn’t look particularly upset, but Harvard felt he should check anyway.
“Was I too mean? I just—I hate it when your guys get demanding. I always have. Just because you’re… you, it doesn’t mean they have a right to act that way. I always wished I could step in when they behaved like that. I’m sorry if I went too far.”
“Don’t be sorry. You should do it all the time,” Aiden urged. “They are trash. Throw them away.”
“Wow, buddy, don’t, like, give up on love,” said Harvard. “There are good ones out there.”
A look of extreme irritation crossed Aiden’s face, and Harvard was puzzled before he realized he was epically failing at practice dating right now.
He was about to apologize for saying buddy when the heavens opened and poured down a deluge onto their heads. The gold lights of the fair blurred with continuous silver.
“Where’s your raincoat?” Harvard said, and when Aiden made a face: “Aiden.”
“Carrying around a stupid bulky raincoat detracts from my air of insouciance!” Aiden protested.
This was why Aiden got colds all the time, Harvard was sure. Harvard got out his raincoat from his backpack and covered both their heads and also Harvard Paw’s new friend.
“Does it, you insouciant idiot?” Harvard muttered fondly.
There were people splashing past in the mud and quickly forming puddles, and laughter ringing behind the sound of the drumming rain. Aiden slid his hands under Harvard’s leather jacket. “This is romantic,” he informed Harvard. “Young couple caught in the rain with only one coat to shield them from the elements!”
“I don’t know that I find this romantic. It’s happened constantly since we were ten!” Harvard said in severe tones.
“You’d find it romantic if it were Neil!” Aiden paused. “Which is why I’m telling you this. Next time it rains, you can seize your opportunity.”
“Next time it rains, I’ll probably be worrying you’ve wandered out somewhere with no raincoat or jacket,” said Harvard.
Aiden hummed, sounding pleased again, and ran his cold nose down near Harvard’s ear, since he knew Harvard wouldn’t push him out into the rain, though Aiden deserved it. Harvard pushed him a little, and then caught his arm so he wouldn’t stumble out of cover, and Aiden snickered.
“Yeah, yeah, you,” said Harvard, and held the raincoat over their heads as they made a run for it to Kings Row, Aiden clutching his new bear and laughing and being absolutely no help whatsoever.
By the time they reached the hall, both were laughing and had got more than a bit wet. Aiden’s sweater was clinging far more than it had been before. Harvard couldn’t believe Aiden hadn’t even worn a jacket today. He hauled him up the back stairs toward their room, footprints leaving a watery trail on the mahogany steps behind them as they went.
At their door, Aiden hesitated. Harvard leaned against the doorframe, looking over Aiden’s shoulder at the rainy dark through a mullioned window rather than at Aiden’s sweater.
“Was this okay?” Harvard asked. “Was it kind of like your first date, the one at the fair a couple years back? That’s why you wanted to go, right?”
Aiden must have liked that guy more than Harvard realized.
“This was like the first date I wanted,” Aiden said eventually.
“Oh,” said Harvard. “I’m sorry.”
First-date guy must have turned out to be a jerk.
Harvard removed his gaze from the window, skipped over looking at Aiden, and frowned at the floor, miserable at the idea of Aiden being hurt—he’d never seemed as if he could be hurt by any of those guys—when there came a sudden warm interruption to his worries.
“Nothing to be sorry for,” Aiden murmured, leaning against Harvard. “I had a really good time.”
Oh, Aiden was right there. Oh.
Harvard glanced up, and then found himself unable to look away.
“Me too,” he whispered. “What should come next?”
As soon as he spoke, he knew the answer. He hadn’t realized what he was saying.
Or had he?
A teasing smile was playing around Aiden’s mouth. “What should come next, when you’re at someone’s door after a date that went well? Come on, Harvard. You know what.”
A kiss at the door, after a date. Harvard’s first kiss.
Harvard’s stomach swooped and curled.
He couldn’t tear his gaze away from Aiden’s smile.
“That’s what that girl wanted. That’s what Neil was waiting around on the porch for after every date.” Aiden added, “I assume he did.”
The idea of Neil was distant and uncomfortable with Aiden this close. Aiden must have caught the flash of unease as it crossed Harvard’s face.
“Just so you know, for the future,” Aiden told him. “Hey. I, uh, I know this is…”
Aiden was speaking very low. Harvard had to lean in nearer just to hear him.
“I know we’re talking about your first kiss. You don’t have to do anything. Consider me kissed. Or…” Aiden paused again. Time drew out for a long moment, as Aiden’s teeth drew slowly across his own lower lip. “If you wanted to practice this… then I would like to. It’s up to you.”
Aiden was being so good about this. Harvard felt terrible taking advantage of his kindness.
But Aiden had said he would like to.
Consider me kissed.
“No?” asked Aiden.
Harvard whispered, “Yes.”
“What was it you said?” Aiden mused. “If you don’t like it. You should tell me.”
Aiden curled his fingers around the loops of Harvard’s jeans and pulled him in a fraction closer. Aiden kissed him. Aiden’s mouth was soft. The whole kiss was soft, like a question gently asked.
Then, a little less soft. Harvard liked it.
This was new territory for him. He was in a place between terrified and thrilled, tipping one way and then another as Aiden’s kiss deepened and his head spun.
A kiss at the door. That made sense, as a thing to do at the end of the date. It didn’t matter that this was their door, because it was just for practice. Harvard only had to follow Aiden’s lead.
A kiss at the door wasn’t exactly one kiss, it turned out—any more than rain was only one raindrop. Aiden kissed him and held him pressed up against the doorframe as though Harvard wanted to get away, when Harvard wanted anything but. Harvard slid an arm around Aiden’s waist, grasping a soaked handful of Aiden’s sweater. Harvard was reliably able to reproduce any fencing move he was shown. He had to be shown only once, and he’d know the rules. But this wasn’t fencing, this was kissing, and there were no rules. Aiden’s mouth tasted of lavender lemonade, and the warmth of his body was radiating right through his wet clothes. Aiden ran his hands up the lines of Harvard’s arms and shoulders. Harvard’s hand went to the nape of Aiden’s neck, tangling in his hair, pulling so the elastic came loose and the rain-dampened hair fell around their faces. The wet hanks of Aiden’s hair got in the way of the kiss, and Aiden pushed them back with a confused
murmur of complaint as though he didn’t understand what his own hair was.
Harvard pulled back from the lavender-lemonade kisses to murmur, “I love your hair.”
“Stop not kissing me,” Aiden commanded softly. “Stop it at once.”
Harvard kissed Aiden’s mouth and his jaw and the cool raindrops running down Aiden’s throat as heat ran under Harvard’s skin. Aiden made another, different sound, hands falling away from his hair to cup Harvard’s face between his wet palms, and smiled, biting at the corner of Harvard’s mouth. Harvard made a helpless noise. Aiden half murmured and half moaned in return, sounding both pleased and wounded, and arched in even closer.
That is so sexy, Harvard thought, and froze in horror.
At that precise moment, there came the loud sound of many pairs of footsteps clattering up the stairs. Harvard and Aiden broke apart. Harvard realized that they’d been sliding down against the doorframe, pressed together. They’d almost tumbled onto the floor.
And then what? What had he thought he was doing? Harvard was extremely disappointed in himself.
There was always much discussion of Aiden’s… wiles or whatever. Harvard usually tried not to listen, since this was his best friend, thank you very much, but sometimes you couldn’t help overhearing.
So… good wiles, buddy! Everybody who kissed Aiden felt the same way. Harvard already knew that. He’d known that for years, seen a hundred boys cut off at the knees by Aiden. He’d set them on their feet and given them a pat on the back, and always believed he was different. He was Aiden’s best friend. He wasn’t going to be like Jay.
Harvard took a deep breath and reminded himself to be different. He nodded thanks, not quite able to speak just yet, then swung open the door so he had space to take a step back.
“Leave it at the door, right?” murmured Aiden.
“Yeah.” Harvard’s voice scraped in his throat. “Leave it at the door. Right.”
They weren’t standing far apart, but it seemed as if there was too much distance between them. Harvard tried to think of a way to show that he was grateful, and he wasn’t presuming anything like the other guys did. This was practice.
“Thanks,” he said awkwardly. “I’m sure… I think Neil will like that?”
Aiden nodded, still distant. “He’ll like it.”
21: NICHOLAS
Eugene and Nicholas stood on the sidewalk outside Needful Bling and stared at Seiji’s watch for a long time. The cracked glass face had been replaced by a large, faintly pink plastic dome. The hands were moving, but they were in the shape of mouse ears.
“My God, bro,” Eugene said at last.
“Wow,” Nicholas murmured.
“Strongly agreed, wow!”
“Works great,” said Nicholas, much pleased, and pocketed the watch. “And your cousin’s friend did it for free! Now I can buy corn dogs for us at the fair. I feel totally rich.”
“I’ll buy corn dogs, bro,” Eugene said hastily.
“Sweet,” said Nicholas.
Everything was going his way today.
“You’re actually happy?” Eugene asked. “You’re not just being polite?”
When they got back from the fair, he’d give Seiji the watch. He was sure Seiji would be thrilled.
Nicholas grinned. “Yeah. Can’t wait to see Seiji’s face.”
“I am picturing Seiji’s face as well,” Eugene said. “I’m very worried about him in general right now.”
“Why?” asked Nicholas.
“No reason!” said Eugene. “Let’s go to the fair!”
They arrived at Kingstone Fair a little late, when it was already in full swing. The yellow of the stalls matched the yellow leaves fluttering down from the trees. Nicholas wasn’t used to all this nature, but, like most things surrounding Kings Row, he thought it was nice.
When Harvard and Aiden wandered by, still looking happy and hand in hand, it seemed like they were having a nice date.
Aiden’s face was far more pleasant now that he was dating Harvard. Nicholas was coming around to the idea. Eugene started forward to intercept them, but Nicholas grabbed Eugene’s jacket. Harvard and Aiden were clearly in their own little world right now and should not be disturbed. Nicholas really thought Eugene could employ more tact.
Eugene turned to Nicholas in distress. “If I was concerned that one of my teammates might be a master criminal, the captain would want to know, right?”
“Don’t interrupt the captain on his date!” commanded Nicholas, and dragged Eugene away.
Eugene protested faintly, but Nicholas felt Eugene deserved to be dragged. The captain must be left alone to do his romance.
“Eugene, if this is about the shoplifting, I don’t do that anymore!” Nicholas snapped once they were safely behind the popcorn vendor.
“That’s not it, bro…,” Eugene mumbled, but what else could he have meant?
Nicholas shook his head, but he tried to be understanding. Eugene didn’t get how the real world worked, so he thought Nicholas shoplifting a few candy bars when he was a little kid made him a thief. Whatever. Nicholas didn’t want to spoil the fair. They met up with Eugene’s weight-lifting buds, and they all went on the roller coaster together. Nicholas thought it was totally fun, but afterward, Brad threw up fried dough and cotton candy in a nearby trash can.
“Aw, no, bros,” murmured Chad. “Our delicate flower.”
“He’s gotta toughen up,” grunted Julian. “You spoil him. I’m only saying it for his own good!”
Nicholas and the bros got Brad water and stood around patting him on the back and commiserating that he must’ve got a bad corn dog. (“Every time, bro,” Eugene whispered in Nicholas’s ear. “This happens every time. Brad can’t accept he doesn’t have the stomach for the fun rides.”)
By the time Brad felt better, it’d started to rain. It started off as only a sprinkle, but the sky above the Ferris wheel looked gray and serious. Rain in Kings Row was different from rain in the city, where no matter how much rain fell, the sidewalks only got a wash. Here, the whole fairground would turn to mud, and Seiji got extremely sharp about mud being tracked into the room.
Other Kings Row students had navy raincoats that went with their uniforms, and all across the sparkling fairground, Kings Row boys were producing raincoats to go over their jeans and sweatshirts, transforming them into proper Kings Row students again. Not Nicholas, though. Raincoats were considered an accessory and seemed to Nicholas a wasteful luxury. He held his jacket over his head and ran home, happy enough that the rain had started. He’d enjoyed the festival, but he wanted to go back to Kings Row and show Seiji that he’d gotten his watch fixed.
He found Seiji not in their room or the salle but in the common room, sitting at one of the desks and frowning at his essay in the light of a stained-glass green lamp that cast an otherworldly glow on Seiji’s face. A raincoat hung on the back of Seiji’s chair, and his attitude was one of intense concentration.
“Sorry for interrupting your peace and quiet,” said Nicholas.
Seiji didn’t appear surprised to see him. “That’s all right; I’m done now.”
“You’re… done with peace and quiet now?”
“I assume,” said Seiji after a moment’s pause. “Since you’re here.”
Nicholas dismissed Seiji behaving oddly. It happened all the time. He and Seiji found each other hard to understand, Nicholas was used to it, and Seiji wasn’t mysterious in a jerky way like Aiden or Jesse. With pride, he laid the mended watch down on the desk Seiji was working at.
“Just wanted to give you back your watch.”
“My watch?” Seiji asked blankly. “What watch?”
“The one I broke?”
“Oh,” said Seiji. “I’d forgotten about that.”
After all the trouble Nicholas and Eugene had gone through. Nicholas rolled his eyes and pushed the watch across the desk in Seiji’s direction.
Seiji considered the watch for a long moment. The lamp on the desk wi
th its green glass shade caught the new plastic surface of the watch, making the plastic look pinker than it had outside. Nicholas felt a brief moment of misgiving. Was the watch… too pink?
“That’s good the watch is working efficiently again,” Seiji told him, taking the watch and fastening the band around his wrist. “I’m glad you had the basic consideration to replace what you broke.”
Nicholas glowed. “Knew you’d be pleased.”
Then he frowned. Seiji’s raincoat was hanging on the back of his chair, which Nicholas was leaning against. When Nicholas touched the coat, his hand came away wet.
“Seiji!” said Nicholas. “You weren’t in the salle the whole time. Where were you? Did you… try to join us at the fair after all?”
“Of course I didn’t!”
He must have. Nicholas thought Seiji definitely looked shifty. He was totally fibbing about something.
“Aw, bro,” said Nicholas, trying out Eugene-speak.
“Bro?” Seiji repeated with evident horror.
“No?”
“No,” Seiji said with decision.
“Okay, no to bro. Noted,” said Nicholas. “Anyway, next year you should come to the fair with us.”
That was a nice idea. Being at Kings Row next year, belonging at Kings Row, maybe, more than he did now. By then, Nicholas would be so much better at fencing, and he and Seiji would officially be rivals.
“By next year I will probably have killed you,” said Seiji.
Score, Nicholas thought. That wasn’t a no.
22: AIDEN
Usually when Aiden had trouble sleeping, Harvard would bore him to sleep. That custom had started during their first sleepover as kids, when Aiden was nervous in a new house and worried that if he got something wrong, he wouldn’t be invited back to Harvard’s. They had put the blanket over their heads, and Harvard had told Aiden the most boring story he could think of, all about Harvard Paw’s adventures in the adult world.
“And then Harvard Paw went all the way to the bank,” Harvard would whisper. “And then Harvard Paw said, ‘I know you don’t like politics at the dinner table, dear, but I simply must say…’”
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