Fence--Striking Distance

by Sarah Rees Brennan

  Freshmen should not interfere with unsolicited opinions about the private lives of upperclassmen. Aiden didn’t know why he was the only person left at Kings Row who knew the basic rules of social interaction.

  “Thanks.” Harvard smiled as if he thought Bad Haircut Nicholas was adorable. “I hope so, too.”

  Aiden hoped an unexpected hurricane would hit. A hurricane would keep everyone indoors, and Harvard safe at home.

  Failing a hurricane, he hoped those freshmen would be eaten by bears.

  Aiden turned away and arranged himself a date with lucky Mr. Right There When Aiden Stumbled Out of the Gym.

  On his date that night, he had a totally fine time. He’d have a good time tomorrow night, too, he told himself. And every night after that.

  Aiden returned to their room late, and threw himself down on the bed, still in his clothes. His mouth ached as though the guy had bitten it a little too hard. He glanced over at the pillow beside his to see Harvard curved toward him as usual, crisp white bedsheet slipping down one strong shoulder. Aiden propped his arm behind his head, glaring up at the darkened ceiling, feeling taut all over as though he might snap.

  Harvard blinked, not even half-awake. Maybe a tenth. “You back?”

  “Yes,” Aiden answered, his voice clear in the shadowed room. “I’m back.”

  “Tha’s good,” mumbled Harvard into his pillow. He reached out blindly, eyes shut again, and patted Aiden’s arm. Aiden saw the moment where Harvard, sweet even in his sleep, noticed the tension in Aiden’s arm and frowned. “Dun’ worry,” Harvard murmured, even as he fell back into slumber. “It okay.”

  Harvard rolled away under his blanket, burrowing his head into the pillow. Aiden looked at the line of his back, the gray material of Harvard’s sleeveless T-shirt stretched tight across it.

  Now let me go, Harvard’s remembered voice said in his mind.

  He’d always known he would have to, one day. He’d always told himself, maybe tomorrow.

  Aiden reached out and carefully secured a hold on the back of Harvard’s shirt. Just a pinch of gray fabric, held tight between Aiden’s finger and thumb.

  Maybe tomorrow Aiden would let go.

  6: NICHOLAS

  On Friday, Seiji caused a sensation at breakfast.

  Before he did, it was a morning like any other, though Eugene seemed uncharacteristically glum.

  “’M not looking forward to being eaten by bears tonight, bro,” he said as Nicholas patted him on the back and stole some of his bacon. Eugene didn’t seem in the mood to appreciate it.

  Eugene often ate with his weight-lifting bros, but this morning he’d slumped down beside Nicholas to seek comfort in these hard times. Nicholas always sat with Bobby, his first friend at Kings Row, and Bobby’s roommate, Dante. Bobby and Dante were an odd pair, Bobby teeny and bubbly and fond of sparkly barrettes, while Dante was huge and quiet and not fond of sparkly anything except Bobby. Right now Bobby was nodding sympathetically about Eugene’s problems, and Dante was staring at Eugene as if he thought Eugene was deranged.

  “What if you just say you won’t put a steak around your neck and run around the forest?” Bobby suggested. “Coach can’t really want to endanger the fencing team. You guys are doing so well. Just tell her you won’t do it.”

  “I’m not going to say no to the coach!” said Eugene. “Not after I already almost gave the captain a concussion! I don’t wanna let anybody down! I’m happy to do whatever the coach wants!” Eugene paused and softened his outburst by adding: “Bro.”

  Dante shook his head slowly and copied Nicholas by stealing a piece of Eugene’s bacon.

  Eugene, who was still fretting, didn’t notice. “Also, I’m pretty sure Aiden hates me now.”

  “Don’t even worry about him. Aiden doesn’t like anybody except Harvard,” said Nicholas. “Aiden’s kind of mean.”

  This point of view seemed to shock Eugene to his core. “Oh no. You have Aiden all wrong. He’s an amazing fencer—”

  “Nah.” Nicholas shrugged. “I beat him easy.”

  Actually, Aiden was better than he had any right to be, given how little he practiced. Harvard must be dragging Aiden to the salle all the time and giving him tips. Their captain was the best that way. Still, Nicholas couldn’t figure out how Aiden had managed to win against Seiji.

  “—really smart, always knows what to—”

  The captain said that Aiden was always able to predict people’s moves, but he sure hadn’t been able to predict Nicholas’s in their match. From what Nicholas had observed, Aiden was able to say stuff that made people falter during matches, but Nicholas couldn’t imagine Seiji caring about anything Aiden had to say. The whole thing was a total mystery, though one that Nicholas felt great about—Aiden had beat Seiji, and Nicholas had beat Aiden, so in a way, Nicholas had already won a match against Seiji! It would be better to actually win a match against Seiji, but that’d happen soon.

  “—the best-looking guy in school, everyone agrees—”

  Nicholas, who found his attention wandering when people discussed the supremely uninteresting subject of Aiden, focused. “Wait, why are we suddenly talking about Seiji?”

  Eugene and Dante blinked at him. While Nicholas wasn’t paying attention, they seemed to have learned how to synchronize blinking.

  “I agree with Nicholas!” said Bobby.

  It was Nicholas’s turn to blink. “About what?”

  Then he realized why they were suddenly talking about Seiji. It was because Seiji was here. Nicholas had never seen Seiji at breakfast before. He didn’t seem at ease in the dining hall. At first Nicholas hadn’t been at ease here, either, since the room looked more like a museum hall than a cafeteria. There was art on the walls and multiple chandeliers, though at least the cafeteria chandeliers were the type that resembled fake candelabras and hung on chains. They weren’t the glittery real ones to be found in other rooms at Kings Row. Nicholas knew with awful cold certainty the glittery chandeliers were actual crystal.

  Seiji probably wasn’t freaked out by chandeliers or smooth walls, but nonetheless he didn’t seem at ease. He stood tall among the benches and tables, shirt and hair neat even though they didn’t have class for more than twenty minutes, staring vaguely around as if he might be lost.

  Nicholas stuck a hand in the air and waved it energetically around.

  “Hey, Seiji!”

  When Seiji spotted him, Nicholas thought he glimpsed a faint hint of relief on his face. Seiji came over right away, too. Nicholas grinned, feeling a warm spot in the center of his chest.

  Eugene perked up as well. “Abroha! What brings you here?”

  “Hello,” said Seiji, sitting down. “I came here to bond with my teammates. You know… share a meal and a conversation.”

  They nodded, because they did know. Seiji nodded, too, a moment after the rest of them.

  “Wow,” said Bobby happily. “This is so cool! I can’t believe you cut your training short to have breakfast with us.”

  Seiji looked shocked. “I didn’t cut my training short. I just got up at three thirty in the morning instead of four so I could do this as well.”

  “Three thirty… in the morning…,” Eugene murmured. “Always grinding. You’re an inspiration, bro.”

  Nicholas made a horrible face around his mouthful of bacon. He didn’t feel inspired by three thirty in the morning at all.

  “What are we conversing about?” Seiji inquired.

  Eugene put his head down on the table. “I’m not having a chill time lately. Could use a lift from my bros.”

  “Totally. We are here for you!” said Nicholas, and nodded encouragement at Seiji.

  Seiji stared at him blankly.

  Nicholas mouthed: Team bonding. Then he gestured from himself to Seiji, and back again.

  Seiji cleared his throat. “Of course, Eugene. I will… provide you with emotional support, as requested.”

  This was a great morning, Nicholas decided. Seiji was having b
reakfast with them. Bobby was staring at Seiji, delighted and starstruck. Fencing was the first thing Bobby and Nicholas had bonded over, so Nicholas was sure Bobby and Seiji would get along well, too. Other people were murmuring and pointing at their table, no doubt jealous Seiji was sitting with them.

  “Aiden hates me!” Eugene said sadly. His voice was muffled since he was speaking into the cradle of his arms.

  Seiji nodded. “He does seem to dislike you. I’ve noticed that myself.”

  This wasn’t what Eugene needed to hear. Nicholas kicked Seiji in the ankle.

  “Nicholas just kicked me,” Seiji reported, eyes narrowing. “I’m fairly certain it was on purpose!”

  Bobby, who had a beautiful soul, hastily intervened. “Eugene, I’m sure Aiden doesn’t hate you. He’s probably feeling a bit sensitive right now, because Coach threatened to kick him off the team and make you roommates with Harvard instead of him.”

  Seiji and Nicholas gave a mutual shudder at the hideous words off the team. No wonder Aiden was in a foul mood these days.

  “Is that what’s going on?” asked Nicholas. “Sweet.”

  Bobby tilted his head, pigtails tipping to one side. “What do you mean?”

  “I meant for the captain,” said Nicholas. “Eugene would be a way better roommate than Aiden. Harvard could finally have some peace and quiet.”

  He realized Harvard and Aiden were best friends, but surely Harvard was exhausted by the constant talking at this point. Anybody would be. Nicholas viewed the dining hall, faces crowded around the long rectangular oak tables, benches crammed with boys in navy and gray. The sight of so many students assembled, all of them belonging so much more than Nicholas ever could, was as intimidating as being thrown into a really fancy sea. But Harvard would fit right in at any table. He was sure any of those older boys would be thrilled to hang out with the captain.

  “Well,” said Eugene, “I guess it’s possible Harvard is tired of having Aiden’s guys over at all hours. If you know what I’m saying.”

  “Wow,” murmured Nicholas, as realization dawned. “Are you saying…?”

  Eugene nodded. Bobby and Dante were nodding as well, in a resigned fashion. Apparently, this was common knowledge.

  “Aiden has his friends over, like, at night? And in the mornings?” Nicholas demanded.

  “Well… yeah, bro,” said Eugene. “From night until morning. Sometimes.”

  Nicholas was scandalized.

  “Does he throw parties? That’s gotta be distracting for Harvard! The captain’s fencing shouldn’t suffer because his roommate is a party animal.”

  A silence settled over the table. Nicholas assumed everyone was as horrified as he was, but their expressions had gone strangely fixed. He looked to Seiji, whose eyebrows had drawn sharply and disapprovingly together.

  “I agree completely, Nicholas,” said Seiji. “Aiden shouldn’t be throwing parties! Do you realize what’s happening here? Because it seems obvious to me.”

  “Oh, thank God, someone’s going to tell him,” Bobby murmured.

  Seiji leaned across the table toward Nicholas, as though he might whisper to him and still be heard over the buzz of chatter rising to the rafters. Nicholas leaned forward to hear what was so obvious to everyone else.

  “I suspect that if Harvard wasn’t being deprived of sleep by these social gatherings, the captain would be higher ranked among the fencers,” Seiji informed Nicholas earnestly. “Harvard might potentially be in the top ten rather than the top fifty. No wonder Harvard can’t find time to work on his low lines. I honestly can’t bear to think about how this irresponsible behavior is affecting the captain’s fencing.”

  “… Oh my God,” Bobby whispered.

  “Right, Bobby?” asked Nicholas. “We’re all shocked.”

  There was another silence. Nicholas was pleased to see even Dante seemed stunned.

  Seiji, making a visibly painful effort to be sociable, turned to Dante. Nicholas thought Seiji had selected Dante to address because Dante was the strong silent type, and Seiji found quiet more comfortable than conversation.

  They all watched in horror as Seiji made his fatal mistake.

  “What are your thoughts on low lines? When working with the épée, naturally.”

  “I don’t care about épées,” Dante told him.

  “Ah,” said Seiji. “More of a sabers man? Our coach feels the same. For myself, I prefer—”

  Dante explained, “I don’t care about any kind of fencing.”

  Seiji exchanged a slightly panicked glance with Nicholas. Nicholas shrugged, like Go with it. He found Dante’s attitude puzzling as well, but Dante was a good guy. Dante and Bobby were best friends. Seemed as if everyone had one of those. Nicholas wondered when a good time might be to bring up being best friends with Seiji. Possibly not soon, since Seiji was clearly finding a friendly breakfast to be a trial.

  Bobby gave Seiji a look of rapt admiration, then, obviously torn, gave Dante a look of best-friend love. Dante’s attitude about fencing must be hard for Bobby to deal with, Nicholas thought with sympathy.

  “Dante’s a great cook,” offered Bobby. “His whole family gets together and makes these huge meals. They cook the most fantastic Italian food.”

  Nicholas did love pizza. The food at Kings Row was amazing, and the meals were so regular. The teachers actually got mad if you skipped any of them. Still, he really missed a delicious, greasy slice. Mom would give him the money for pizza sometimes, when she wasn’t gonna be home.

  “Fascinating,” murmured Seiji politely. “Unusual.”

  “Not really,” Bobby defended Dante, admirably loyal to his best friend even when addressing his fencing idol. “Cooking’s a more popular hobby than fencing.”

  “They don’t have a Great British Fence-Off,” muttered Dante.

  There was a thoughtful pause.

  “Oh, that sounds like such a good show,” Nicholas murmured.

  “I like your idea for a television show as well,” Seiji told Dante. “Why do you picture it being British specifically?”

  Dante’s mouth opened and closed. No sound came out.

  “Could be because of the European history of dueling?” Nicholas suggested, and looked to Seiji. “Like in the book you let me borrow. Did you know that if you killed someone in a duel back in the old days, you could run away to France, because in France, dueling was still a totally cool and legal way to kill someone you had beef with?”

  Seiji nodded, pointing at Nicholas for emphasis. “I did know that, but clearly not everybody does. You’re right; the show would be educational for many people. Perhaps they could hold fencing displays in old manor houses and castles and châteaux? And, of course, in colleges such as Cambridge, Oxford, and Trinity, where the legacy of fencing students is so illustrious.”

  Breakfast conversation was so awesome now that Seiji had joined them! Nicholas bet nobody else had as much fun as they did.

  Dante had clearly given up on talking and was giving Bobby a silent, pleading look. Nicholas guessed Dante was shy. Seiji was pretty famous, so maybe Dante was overwhelmed.

  “Speaking of cooking!” said Bobby with speed. “Don’t tell, guys, but Dante sometimes makes pasta sauce over a burner and we have a midnight feast.”

  “Fun!” said Nicholas enthusiastically. “We should have a midnight feast. That’d be a good team bonding exercise.”

  “More communal meals?” Seiji said. “For a team bonding exercise. Certainly.”

  “I can fix us a midnight feast,” Eugene suggested.

  He’d lifted his head from the table, intrigued by this new idea. Maybe Eugene, like Dante, cooked big meals with his family. Nicholas had seen them, all Eugene’s tiny younger brothers and sisters, show up to support him at the fencing tryouts. They seemed really nice.

  “Or you’d all be welcome to come by our room and eat pasta,” Bobby offered. Nicholas beamed at him.

  Their exciting discussion of a midnight feast was broken up by the so
und of the bell ringing for class.

  Seiji rose immediately. “Good breakfast, everyone. I… enjoyed it. See you here at this table, for more conversation, at the same time next week.”

  “Next week?” The question seemed to pop from Bobby’s lips with the force of sheer surprise. Seiji bent an inquiring gaze upon him. Bobby looked mortified.

  “Is this not a weekly occasion?”

  Nicholas hit Seiji on the shoulder, the way Harvard had hit him, so Seiji would feel included the way Nicholas had. “We have breakfast together every morning.”

  “Every morning!” Seiji exclaimed, and then collected himself. “Oh. Good. Then I will see you all tomorrow morning, at this time sharp.”

  Bobby gazed at Seiji with distress. “We just turn up, you know, when we turn up.”

  Seiji’s expression was briefly appalled. Bobby murmured feebly about how they should learn how to keep to a better schedule.

  Seiji pressed his lips together and nodded. “Understood. We’ll meet at this time approximately. Looking forward to that.”

  “We might not make it to breakfast tomorrow morning,” Eugene reminded Nicholas and Seiji gloomily. “We might get eaten by bears tonight.”

  7: SEIJI

  Seiji was finding his essay remarkably difficult to write. There simply wasn’t much to say, and he was uncertain how to put it. In Seiji’s experience, he reported the basic facts, and people became angry with him and called him arrogant. Then they disliked him for simply telling the truth. Was he meant to lie to get them to like him? Seiji didn’t intend to do that.

  My father is CEO of a zaibatsu specializing in automotive manufacture, Seiji wrote. Then he remembered that people frequently couldn’t be bothered to look up words and added (business conglomeration) after the word zaibatsu.

  My parents are a hardworking and devoted couple who raised me with every advantage. I always had the best trainers—and the best of everything else, too.

  What else was there to discuss about his childhood or his parents? Seiji didn’t know his parents especially well. They were always busy with work and each other. Seiji heard unpleasant gossip at his father’s parties about mistresses and divorces, but Seiji never doubted for a moment his parents would be loyal.