Leaving Kenny with his father was harder than Asher expected. The part of him that had always been Kenny’s friend wanted to stay to make sure he was okay. The part of him that was crushing on the senator’s son just wanted to know what that kiss meant.
“You’ve been quiet the whole trip home.” Danny’s voice trailed off as they walked across the south lawn to the Residence. “Are we doing the presidential walk of shame here?”
“Ew, no.” Asher shoved him, laughing when his efforts yielded him nothing. It was like shoving a boulder. “We just fell asleep watching a hockey game. What’s your excuse, Mr. Diligent? Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“That kid’s dorm room bed was the most comfortable thing that has ever touched my backside. I was just going to stretch out for a minute, and then I was a goner.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I’ve never fallen asleep on the job like that, but you two were on the most boring date ever.”
“I don’t think it was a date.” Asher looked up at the entrance to the White House. “The whole setup you guys planned was a waste of time.”
“What setup?” Danny frowned. “I don’t know anything about a setup.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“Listen, kid. You two were having a good time until the shit hit the fan with his family life. Give him time to deal with that mess, and he’ll come around. It was just bad timing last night. But you did a nice thing for your friend, not leaving him alone at that stuffy boarding school.”
“A nice thing, huh? Maybe next time you won’t give me such a hard time when I’m trying to be there for my friends?”
“Not likely. But I respect the gesture of kindness.”
“You’re such a pain in my ass.”
“That just means I’m doing my job.”
Danny’s face went blank like it did when one of his minions spoke to him through his ever-present headset. “Come on, your mom wants to see you.” He steered Asher toward the West Wing.
“Of course, she does.” Asher rolled his eyes. “What, was she in on the setup?”
“I know nothing.”
Asher followed him into the building, brushing a careful hand over last night’s clothes, trying to smooth the wrinkles from his shirt.
It was the weekend, but his mother was always working. It came with the job, but she still managed to make time for her kids. Something he was beginning to realize he’d taken for granted.
“Asher, did you have a good time at the concert?” the Chief of Staff asked as she stepped out of the Oval Office.
He was used to everyone knowing his business, but he loved his mother’s Chief of Staff. She’d served as his father’s Chief of Staff as well, so he’d known Lillian since he first came to the White House.
“Yeah, it was a blast.”
She glanced at her watch. “Nora’s in a meeting, but she’ll be back in about ten minutes. Your dad will meet you both here, and then IT will set up the video conference.”
Lillian was already halfway down the hall before Asher could ask her what videoconference she was talking about.
“You know anything about that?” Asher turned to Danny.
“No idea.” He held the door open to his mom’s office, taking his usual stance at the door to await the President’s arrival.
“You don’t have to wait with me, you’ve gotta be tired.”
“I’m good,” Danny insisted. “I’ll take a break after you’re settled back in the residence. Just promise me no overnight trips again anytime soon.”
“Can’t guarantee it.” Asher gave him a smirk. Danny was rarely away from Asher’s side when he wasn’t in his own rooms, and Asher suspected the guy never slept.
“Hey, Ash.” His dad walked in with his nose buried in some protocol binder. “Have fun on your date?”
“It wasn’t a date.” Asher sighed, feeling like more of a loser knowing his parents played a part in last night’s set up. That had to be a new level of pathetic, even for him. “But we all had a good time.”
“Good, good.”
“What’s this I hear about a video conference?”
“Let’s wait for your mother. She’ll kill me if I tell you before she gets here.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“It’s not ominous, Asher.” His mother stepped into the room from her private study. “You always suspect the worst.”
“Hey, Mom.” Asher yawned. He still didn’t know how he felt about spending the night on the sofa with Kenny, but he was exhausted from his trip. “What’s up?” All he wanted was a shower and a nap.
“First, how was your date?”
“It wasn’t a date,” Asher and his father announced together.
“Well, did you at least have fun?”
“Yes, Mother, I had a great time.” He was a hundred percent certain she’d received a full report on his activity, including the night spent on the couch, but she had the decency to pretend she knew nothing. “Now, what’s this about a video conference?”
“A prestigious, cutting-edge art school has been trying to get in touch with us since your art show, but the recruiter obviously had a hard time reaching out.”
“I talked to the woman briefly yesterday,” Asher’s father said. “It sounds like an amazing opportunity, so we made arrangements to speak with her today.”
Asher ran a hand over his tired eyes, stifling another yawn. “Not the best timing.” He wasn’t remotely interested in hearing some college recruiter kiss their asses for the next hour.
“She only wanted a moment of your time, son.” Asher’s dad stepped aside to let the IT guys set up the call. “I really think you’ll like her.”
“What’s the school?”
“Manhattan College of New Arts.”
Asher frowned. “I’ve never even heard of it.”
“It’s new and really kind of exciting,” his mom said. “But we’ll let Roxie tell you all about it.”
“Roxie?” Asher’s eyebrows shot up. “The recruiter’s name is Roxie?”
“You’ll love her. She’s from Australia and she’s so cool.”
“Great. I can’t wait.” Asher would be more excited to talk about foreign policy at this point than any talk of his future.
Ten minutes into the conference call, and Asher could see why Roxie was their best recruiter. She got extra points for not falling to pieces when greeting his parents.
“So what makes Manhattan College of New Arts a better choice than NYU or The Rhode Island School of Design?” Asher leaned toward the screen.
“The short answer to that question is we aren’t living in the past with our heads stuck in the sand, oblivious to how the world has changed in the last century.”
“So this is not a classic program of fine art?”
“Far from it, Asher.”
He liked the way she said his name with her Aussie accent. He could listen to her talk all day.
“How many times have you heard someone say an education in the arts is a waste of time and money because you can’t make a living as an artist?”
“Everyone says that, and it’s a scary thought.”
“Right? To put yourself through so many years of school, losing sleep, living on ramen noodles and caffeine just to graduate and never find a job in the creative arts. It’s heartbreaking. But at MCNA we have a perfect record, placing all of our students in jobs they’ve been trained to do. We have that high level of success because we will never just teach our fine art students how to paint a beautiful piece of art without also teaching them how to sell it and market their brand as an artist. But, you’re into the digital arts. Photography, film, graphic arts. Those are all skills that are in high demand. Think about a world where art doesn’t exist. There would be no entertainment. No music, no film, no beautifully designed buildings and interiors. No art of any kind.”
“That’s a bleak image,” Asher said.
“Exactly. We can’t even fathom it because the best things about our world r
evolve around art. So why do we have so many starving artists, vying for the same few jobs? Because the art education system is flawed and no one is doing anything about it.”
“That still doesn’t really answer my original question.” Asher fidgeted on the edge of his seat. He liked everything she’d said so far, but it still felt like a sales pitch.
“Our classrooms are different, and our curriculum is always changing. We listen to our students and their intuition because it’s that raw creativity that leads to the next new thing. Take photography, for instance. In a traditional program, you would take intro to photography as a freshman, and you’d learn all the fundamentals. All the does and don’ts that have been taught for decades. At MCNA, your intro photography class will include the fundamentals, but you’ll also learn to develop your own brand and your social media presence through Instagram and other online outlets. You’ll learn how to implement a variety of mediums into your photography class based on the interests of the student. And your work shown at the Long View Gallery is a prime example of the kind of multi-medium work that can come from a photography class or even a printmaking class. We will always push our students to explore their boundaries, their limitations and listen to their instincts.”
“How did you find me? I mean, other than the obvious I’m the president’s son.”
“Listen, I don’t give a rat’s arse who your parents are—no offense, ma’am, sir. Our acceptance rate is seven percent. We don’t have the time, resources, or the inclination to kiss booties or make room for a flashy celebrity student. We care about the art and the talent. And you, my friend, have the talent. I stumbled onto your work through Caitlin Moore on Instagram. She’s a talented student I’ve had my eye on for a while. But my eye went right to your silkscreen work. It has so much heart and you have a lot to say through your work. I didn’t care who you were, I just knew from the one piece I saw that I wanted to meet you.”
“What would be our next steps, Roxie?” Asher’s mom asked.
“We’d love to invite you all to come for a visit to tour the campus and meet with some of our teachers. Asher can come alone or with a family friend if that’s easier, ma’am. I know you’re busy.”
“We will make the time to come for a visit.”
“I think I’d like that, but I’d need to think about it and talk to my parents about it before committing to anything.”
“Of course. In the meantime, I’ll send you some information on the school along with our current curriculum and job placement programs.”
“Sounds wonderful, thank you, Roxie.” Asher’s father smiled and ended the call.
“Well.” His mom beamed with excitement. “What do you think?”
“It sounds like a great place. If I decide to do the art thing, it would probably be my first choice. I’m just not sure yet.”
“Take some time, son. Think about it over the holidays, and after the first of the year, we can take a trip to New York and check it out. It would be so nice to have you just a train ride away. Unless, of course, you decide to go to school here in Washington, and then you can just stay at home with your mom.”
“You know that part is never going to happen, Mom.”
The president sighed. “I know, but a momma can wish.”
“On that note, I’m going to take a shower and a nap. See you at dinner.” Asher made his way across the gardens to the residence with a lot on his mind.
Talk of college was a good distraction. He was more interested in MCNA than he’d let on, but he just wasn’t ready to make that decision.
No, Asher’s thoughts were still with Kenny, wondering how he was doing. Scrolling through the news articles he’d found on the scandal, Asher read all about how Kenny’s mother and his advisor had carried on an affair for over a year, using her son’s hockey events and potential career in the NHL as an excuse to meet in private. It seemed she’d spent a great deal of time in Twin Rivers on the pretense of seeing her son to meet with her lover instead.
Asher’s heart broke for Kenny. He remembered Kenny’s mother from when they were kids. She’d never been the kind of warm, motherly type his own mother was. Victoria Montgomery treated motherhood as a chore, pawning her duties off on nannies and her husband.
Asher stared at his phone, trying to find the words to say to help his friend through such a tough time. No matter what the kiss meant or didn’t mean, he felt like they were finding their friendship again, and he refused to leave Kenny to suffer through this alone.
Asher: Thanks for a wonderful night at the concert. I had a blast and it was great reconnecting after all this time. I just hate that our night ended so badly for you. I’m here for you if you need to talk … or if you just want to talk about hockey or the weather, or whatever. I’m here.
He stared at the screen, hoping to see the three dots dancing, but he didn’t really expect Kenny to answer. He had more on his mind than a former best friend he might be crushing on now.
Asher tossed his phone down on the bed to go take a shower and get his mind off Kenny and that kiss.
Just as he grabbed a fresh towel from the linen closet, his phone chirruped. Asher dived headfirst onto his bed to grab the phone.
“Get it together, Ash.” He pulled up his texts, hoping to see something from Kenny, but it was Nicky.
Nicky: You make it home okay?
Asher: Yeah, I finally got back to my room just now.
Nicky: How did it go with Kenny last night? I mean up until the date crashed and burned with the news of his crappy mother.
Asher: It wasn’t a date, Mr. Meddling Meddler.
Nicky: It was so a date.
Asher: I think you think he’s way more in to me than he really is. I think we’re just friends.
Nicky: Was there a kiss?
Asher: Sort of, but it was more like he thought he owed it to me.
Nicky: Owed it? Was there tongue? If there was tongue, it wasn’t a favor kind of kiss. Was he a closed off dick-bag after?
Asher: Yes and yes.
Nicky: See he likes you. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t freak out and he definitely wouldn’t kiss you. Give him time. He’s got family drama that makes it unnecessarily hard for him. With this new mess his mother’s created, he’ll need all his friends to be there because his instinct will be to pull away from everyone.
Asher: That I can do.
Nicky: You need to think about making a grand gesture.
Asher: What? Why?
Nicky: Kenny is not going to realize you like him, like him unless you hit him over the head with it. Grand gesture style. You know, once the drama settles and he’s had time to come to terms with his cheating ass mother.
Asher: Who says I like him, like him?
Nicky: Oh please, it’s all over your face. He’s perfect for you, and you’d be so good for him. Think about it. Grand Gesture.
Asher finally stepped into the shower, letting the hot water cascade over his shoulders, washing the grime of the night away. His mind filled with thoughts of Kenny and grand gestures. What exactly did a guy do to show another guy he was in it for the long haul? Because Asher was pretty sure he wanted to be all in with Kenny. He didn’t have much to compare it to, but he didn’t think kisses like that happened every day.
19
Kenny
Kenny hated formal wear. Political life basically sucked the joy out of a lot of things other people enjoyed. But a winter dance wasn’t a stuffy fundraiser or a stupid ball. This was supposed to be fun.
With a sigh, Kenny tightened his tie and examined his slicked-back hair. He looked like his father. Why was he even going to this thing?
Oh, right. He had friends now, and friends were pushy pains in the butt.
Sitting on the edge of his bed, he pulled on his black shoes, shined to perfection just as his father taught him. There’d been a lot of fatherly lessons, just none of the normal stuff. Geo-politics, yes. How to throw a football, no. Dressing to impress had been a constant lectur
e, but there’d been no advice on navigating the dating world. Basically, his father had been more of an etiquette teacher while his mother was nothing more than a bystander.
And now, what were they?
His mom still hadn’t called. Two weeks and nothing. To his surprise, his dad texted him occasionally. They’d never had a texting relationship. It was never anything important, and he wondered if his dad just wanted to make sure he was still there, that his family wasn’t gone.
Wylder and Killian were late, but Kenny wasn’t in a hurry to get to the academy banquet hall. He pulled his computer onto his lap and opened a folder with old photos in it. He’d only heard from Asher once since he talked to him last. Asher wanted to see how he was, but Kenny didn’t let himself speak the true answer.
Hockey was good, never better. The team played as more of a cohesive unit than they ever had with Kenny and Killian leading the way. They’d been unstoppable.
School was easy.
The parentals were absent.
Basically, everything was as it should be, but something was still missing. Scrolling through the pictures, Kenny stopped on one of two boys sitting with their feet hanging into the pool behind the West Wing. Asher wasn’t the only one who grew up in the White House. Kenny spent more time there than at his own home.
And he’d been happy.
It was only when he ran from it everything changed.
In the picture, Asher had his arm draped around Kenny’s shoulders and his head thrown back in laughter. He’d always been too good for Washington. Even then.
And now?
Dating Him: The Series Page 40
