There was a touch of severity in Seiji’s reminder. He knew his father was intelligent, so there was no need to make Seiji repeat himself.
“Nice for you to have some different friends,” his father remarked irrelevantly.
Seiji thought of the constant mess in his room and weight lifters assaulting him and having to worry about people’s feelings.
“I don’t find it especially nice,” he said gloomily.
“You were such a… distant kid,” said his father. “You always seemed so hard to reach.”
Seiji responded, startled, “I didn’t think you were trying.”
His father hesitated, then continued with an odd note in his voice: “We should have tried harder. We thought it would be easier to talk to you when you were older, and—it never was. It got more difficult instead. Love was always easy for me and your mother, and I suppose we believed that it would be easy with our child, too.”
This was an extremely embarrassing subject, and Seiji could not think what to say or why his father had chosen to bring it up now. Surely this was all understood between them.
Seiji had always known he was difficult to love. His father didn’t need to tell him that.
Seiji gave a noncommittal murmur. The noncommittal murmur served Seiji well at parties, in between the thank-yous and goodbyes, and Seiji hoped it would suffice as an answer.
“The only thing that seemed to make you happy was fencing,” said his father.
Apparently, noncommittal murmuring would not be enough. Seiji searched desperately for something to say that wouldn’t disappoint his father and came up with nothing.
“Of course, we’re very proud of you and your fencing triumphs,” said his father after a pause.
It made sense that excelling would please his parents.
“My name has been mentioned regarding the Olympics,” Seiji offered.
“I know, Seiji,” his dad told him with a touch of weariness. “And we’re proud of you for fitting in so well at this new school. It sounds like Kings Row is going well.”
“I must have described everything wrong,” said Seiji. “You do understand that most of my fencing team is not even ranked in the top fifty?”
His father coughed again—several times.
“I think you must be getting a cold,” said Seiji, concerned. “Will you help me with my prank?”
“I will. Thanks for calling, Sei-kun,” said his father. He hadn’t called him that often, not since Seiji was small. “I’m glad you did.”
Seiji cleared his throat. He was happy if his father was happy, naturally. “I’m glad I did, too. You should see a doctor as soon as possible for that cold.”
The call had been mystifying in several ways, and Seiji was certain his father had been annoyed to have his work interrupted. Especially when he was ill. And as it turned out, neither the call nor the prank had been necessary. Seiji had made a complete fool of himself.
Seiji fervently wished there was some way to escape this appalling situation.
Even as he had that thought, he saw headlights through the trees, and when he cautiously approached, he noted, to his surprise, that a limousine was driving down the road.
He was even more surprised when the limousine halted, and Jesse emerged.
“Seiji!” he exclaimed. “There you are at last.”
“Hello, Jesse,” said Seiji. “What an extremely strange coincidence.”
Seiji nodded, and turned away from the road. This day was just getting worse and worse.
Jesse left the limousine, and walked onto the tree line, twigs snapping under his crisp steps. He snatched Seiji’s arm and whirled him around.
“Get into the limo immediately, Seiji,” said Jesse, who was slightly wild-eyed. “You cannot stay here. You must see that.”
Seiji blinked. Had news of his prank spread to Exton already?
Jesse continued: “This is a postapocalyptic nightmare land, populated by gibbering lunatics draped in raw flesh!”
“Oh that,” said Seiji. “That was days ago. Many things have happened since then.”
“Worse than that?” Jesse asked, sounding appalled. “That has been haunting my dreams. Come away, Seiji. Do you want to be subjected to more horrors? Isn’t it humiliating for a fencer of your stature to be treated like this, forced to roll around in the mud, playing pointless games with pointless people? Let’s leave while you still have some shreds of your dignity left.”
Seiji stayed in the circle of leaves and dirt created when Jesse spun him around. Jesse’s blue eyes were as relentless as his grip on Seiji’s wrist. He was pulling Seiji forward.
“Don’t you want to come?” Jesse asked.
“In a way, I do,” Seiji admitted slowly.
“There you go,” said Jesse, used to hearing exactly what he wanted to hear. “I knew you would. Come away at once.”
He tugged, but Seiji planted his feet in the ground and refused to move. Jesse gave him a look that went almost past bewildered, as though they were both lost in the woods.
“I—” stammered Jesse. “I—I’m prepared to make concessions.”
“Are you?” Seiji said quietly.
Was Jesse going to apologize? If he did…
“I’ll never mention this ridiculous time you spent at Kings Row,” Jesse promised. “I won’t let anyone else mention it, either. It will be like it never happened.”
Like Kings Row and Nicholas didn’t happen.
“But it did,” said Seiji.
“But it didn’t,” insisted Jesse, fully prepared to argue with reality until reality backed down. “Because it didn’t matter. This lousy school doesn’t matter, and none of the people in it matter. Am I wrong?”
Seiji hesitated.
Jesse’s eyes gleamed. “You’re the only one here who matters, so, Seiji, would you just—”
“Do I matter?” asked Seiji. “To you?”
“Of course!” said Jesse. “Why else am I here? I’m sick and tired of training with a third-best.”
Occasionally, Seiji used to force himself to smile at jokes he didn’t think were funny. It seemed like he should make the effort to smile. Except when he did so, people actually took a step back.
Seiji smiled that humorless smile now. Jesse didn’t take a step back, but for an instant he looked as if he wanted to.
“How flattering,” said Seiji, “to be considered always second-best.”
“I wouldn’t put it like that,” Jesse told him. “I mean, it’s understood, isn’t it?”
“I didn’t understand,” said Seiji. “Now I do.”
“Just—don’t think about it that way, Seiji,” Jesse urged. “Think about it this way: We’re the ideal opponents. I’m even better when you’re with me. Without each other, neither of us is the best we can be. Doesn’t that make sense?”
It did. And Seiji did want to be the best he could be.
Seiji nodded.
“So won’t you come?” asked Jesse, coaxing now, almost irresistible.
He didn’t want to be a broken mirror.
Seiji thought, senselessly, I wish Nicholas was here.
He didn’t even know why he wished that. Nicholas hadn’t been much help last time. In fact, he’d gotten in the way and embarrassed Seiji severely.
But Seiji hadn’t submitted and climbed into the limousine last time. He was afraid this time that he would. Part of him wanted to.
But part of him didn’t. He wasn’t sure what part he should listen to. This was all so complicated, and he wanted life to be simple. He preferred to be certain about how he felt and what he was doing.
Going with Jesse would be simple. Jesse was always clear about what he wanted. If he were with Jesse, Seiji would always be able to see what he should do and how his future would be.
But Nicholas would be surprised and even distressed if Seiji left, and Seiji would prefer not to upset Nicholas. And though Exton was a better school and would optimize Seiji’s chances for the Olympics, Seiji had
the odd, nebulous feeling his father might want him to stay at Kings Row.
Mr. Coste was so proud of Jesse. Seiji had often watched them together and thought how it would be if Mr. Coste were his father and that proud of him.
Only Mr. Coste wasn’t his father, and Seiji didn’t want him to be. It was the pride Seiji had wanted. He’d never been sure how to get his parents to be proud of him, and Mr. Coste seemed an easier proposition, but Seiji had never turned his back on a challenge in his life.
Always keep moving toward your target, his dad said in his mind.
Which choice would make his father proud?
And, Seiji thought, what would make me proud of myself? He remembered the moment when Jesse took his sword with excruciating clarity. He had never been less proud of himself. He wanted to be with Jesse at Exton, but he never wanted to relive that moment. If he returned to Jesse’s side, he would be declaring that low point was where he belonged.
“I won’t go,” Seiji said with sudden determination.
“Why not?” asked Jesse. “Explain it to me so that I can understand.”
Seiji stared helplessly. He couldn’t explain his reasoning to Jesse. He could barely explain it to himself. If he tried, Jesse would laugh at him and Seiji would feel ridiculous and he would get in the car.
“See?” Jesse persisted. “You can’t. Look, Seiji, I understand your pride is hurt, and you don’t want to back down, but there’s no shame in changing your mind when you’ve made a bad decision. The real shame is in sticking with the decision that will ruin your game and wreck your future. Seiji, I am thinking about you. I require your presence at Exton. Deep down, you already know it’s the right thing to do. You can’t even give me a single reason why you would stay. Trust me. I know what you want, better than you do. I know you want to come with me.”
Jesse’s voice had as strong a grip on him after all these years as Jesse’s hand on his wrist. Slowly, reluctantly, Seiji let himself be pulled forward a step toward the road.
Then an entirely unexpected sound stopped him in his tracks.
Ringing through the trees, more golden than the leaves still clinging to the branches, more confident even than Jesse, came the voice of Aiden Kane.
“Excuse me, Exton freshman?” Aiden said imperiously. “Why are you harassing one of my freshmen? Only I am allowed harass my freshmen, thank you!”
Jesse made a choked sound, clearly seething with outrage that Aiden didn’t know who he was.
But… in the match Aiden had won, he had taunted Seiji with Jesse’s name. Aiden, Seiji thought slowly, knew Jesse’s name.
Aiden gave no sign of this knowledge as he strode forward to the side of the road, in a whirl of bright leaves. He was wearing his fencing uniform, and an air that suggested nobody should question it. He swept the limousine with a withering look as though to suggest such an inferior vehicle would have no place in his home, and swept Jesse with an equally withering glance.
Perhaps Aiden had forgotten Jesse’s name, Seiji thought, lured into belief despite himself.
Aiden’s sharp green eyes focused on Jesse’s hold on Seiji’s wrist.
“Drop,” he commanded.
Jesse’s grip tightened, but Seiji lifted his chin slightly. He thought he understood what Aiden was doing.
“Why do you need a limousine to go to a fencing tournament?” Seiji asked Jesse. “Not everybody can afford to go to fencing tournaments in a limousine. Also, they are environmentally unsound. You should go on a team bus with your teammates.”
Jesse seemed unsure of how to respond. Aiden patted Jesse on the back, and Jesse immediately looked infuriated, which Aiden ignored.
“We’re all stunned by Seiji Katayama, world’s most unexpected class warrior,” Aiden murmured sympathetically, and Jesse relaxed. Then Aiden’s sweet voice twisted like a snake and went fang-sharp as he asked, “Might I inquire: Where were you going, Exton boy?”
“Um,” said Jesse. “What?”
“I mean,” Aiden said silkily, “where was this fencing tournament you were headed to?”
“I… Abroad,” said Jesse.
Aiden sneered. Seiji knew what it looked like when Aiden believed he’d spotted a weakness in your armor. What he didn’t understand was why Aiden thought Jesse forgetting where he was going was a sign of weakness. Seiji supposed it must be slightly embarrassing, but surely the limousine driver knew where Jesse was going.
Had Jesse… not been going to a tournament? Where had he been going instead?
Seiji wouldn’t have thought to look at limousine drivers before meeting Nicholas, but now he squinted through the windscreen to make out the driver behind the wheel. She wore the usual uniform, but her cap was rakishly tilted on her curly hair, and she was chewing gum and appeared to be snickering to herself with huge enjoyment of the proceedings.
Seiji was pleased he’d decided to pay attention to the chauffeur.
“Stop ignoring me, Seiji!” Jesse snarled.
“I wasn’t ignoring you,” Seiji pointed out mildly. “I was just looking at someone else.”
He supposed Jesse wasn’t used to that.
“Who is this?” Jesse asked Seiji, jerking his chin savagely in Aiden’s direction. “Who was the boy with you last time, who you—the one with the flies buzzing around him? Why am I constantly being spoken to like this at this awful school? Do they speak to you like this?”
After some consideration, Seiji nodded.
Jesse seemed even more incensed. “I don’t believe either of these people are even ranked in the top fifty, Seiji!”
“They’re not,” said Seiji.
Jesse leaned his free hand against the door of the limousine as though he felt faint.
“I could be ranked if I really wanted to be,” claimed Aiden. “But while you two were studying the blade, I was busy having a lot of fun. There are things more important than fencing.”
Jesse frowned and turned an appealing gaze upon Seiji. “What’s he talking about?”
“I don’t know,” Seiji murmured back.
Aiden rolled his eyes. “Oh my God, there are three of them.”
“There’s only one of me,” Jesse snapped. “I’m Jesse Coste.”
He tossed his head up high. Seiji had seen other people quail when faced with half the fury currently gleaming in Jesse’s blue eyes or contained in the arrogant lift of his chin.
“Don’t flip your hair at me, freshman,” Aiden sneered back. “I’m Aiden Kane.”
Aiden shook back his own light, bright, curling hair from his face and looked down his nose at Jesse.
“Who?” Jesse asked.
“Ask some of the Exton boys,” Aiden drawled. “I don’t remember their names, but I guarantee you they’ll know mine.”
“Aiden beat me at fencing,” Seiji contributed.
Perhaps Aiden had also beaten some of the fencers at Exton? That must be what he meant.
Aiden should really come to practice more often. He might have more potential than Seiji had previously believed.
“I knew it, I knew horrible things were happening at Kings Row,” Jesse muttered. He stopped tugging persuasively and pulled at Seiji’s wrist hard enough to hurt, so Seiji’s sleeve was disarranged and the dying light caught his watch. “And what ghastly object are you wearing on your wrist?!”
“That’s my favorite watch,” Seiji snapped, and twisted his arm free.
Jesse lunged forward, but Aiden stepped in, standing shoulder to shoulder with Seiji. Jesse paid no attention to Aiden, but Seiji knew he was there.
“What?” Jesse asked blankly. “How can that be? Seiji, I feel like I can’t even recognize you right now. Who even are you?”
“Kings Row’s team will be fencing against Exton’s one of these days,” Seiji answered. “My school against yours.”
He laid claim to Kings Row the same way he’d laid claim to the watch, without thinking. He couldn’t justify doing so, but he didn’t want to take it back.
“Wh
at are you saying?” Jesse demanded.
“You don’t know who I am? Find out on the piste,” Seiji suggested, and turned away.
He felt slightly unsteady, probably due to the fact the ground was uneven and riddled with treacherous hidden tree roots, but Aiden threw a careless arm around his shoulders as they walked over the forest floor together. That helped with the unsteadiness.
Aiden urged, “That’s right. Make him chase you.”
Aiden’s voice was encouraging, but his actual words were confusing.
“We’re fencers,” Seiji pointed out. “We’re not running relay races.”
“I truly cannot imagine why your painfully literal milkshake brings all the boys to the yard,” said Aiden, “but work with what you’ve got, I guess.”
“I don’t drink milkshakes,” Seiji told him. “You’re probably thinking of protein shakes. I drink those.”
Aiden appeared reduced to silence by this statement.
They made their way through the trees in silence for a while. Seiji preferred a companionable silence to a difficult conversation, but he felt he should say something. Even though he didn’t know how to express how relieved he’d been when Aiden showed up.
“Aiden? Thanks,” offered Seiji with a small, shy smile. He was embarrassed by the sound of his own voice, sounding almost as young as he actually was. “You were really cool back there.”
“Oh,” said Aiden, looking vaguely startled. “No problem.”
Seiji walked back to Kings Row with a teammate by his side.
29: HARVARD
When Harvard walked into their room, Aiden was standing by the window, getting changed out of his fencing gear. Aiden paused, hands tugging his jacket closed in a swift, nervous movement, when Aiden was never anything but sublimely and blithely self-confident in any possible stage of undress.
The bear from the fair was in the trash. Harvard guessed he knew what that meant.
He had really screwed up.
“Harvard!” Aiden exclaimed, jolting as though he was trying to move forward and stay absolutely still at the same time. “I thought you weren’t coming back.”
“This is our room? And I told you I was coming back,” Harvard reminded him. “I just wanted to go see my mom.”
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