Except… there had been that one match, when he’d lost against Jesse. He hadn’t felt frustration or appreciation then. What he’d felt had been too many emotions, too tangled and hot and terrible to name, tangled like a ball of live wires in Seiji’s chest.
Would he have wanted Nicholas to be there for him, the day he lost to Jesse? Obviously not at the time, as he hadn’t known Nicholas, and he didn’t enjoy strangers.
But if he had known Nicholas, perhaps that might have been all right. He wouldn’t have been by himself in the empty hall afterward, still in his fencing whites, staring down at his empty hands.
“Just something to think about,” said Harvard, then he guided Seiji toward one of the picnic tables, where Nicholas, Bobby, and Dante were all assembled, even though it wasn’t a mealtime. “Hey, here you all are. Looking good, everyone.”
Seiji was thankful the captain had complimented the others. Seiji couldn’t have done it. Bobby was dressed in a top adorned with red-apple and white-star sequin patterns, which was very colorful, but colors generally suited Bobby. Dante looked much the same as usual, though he’d tamed his dark wavy hair a little.
Nicholas was the problem. He looked extremely strange. He was wearing a black T-shirt with a non-uniform blazer over it, and he was holding his body stiffly as if he wasn’t sure if he wanted the blazer to touch him. Worse than that, he’d turned his hair into a bizarre, rigid sculpture. Usually, Nicholas’s hair fell into his face in a soft brown messy swoop, but now it was pushed off his face in a flat shape. This made him not seem like Nicholas at all.
If Seiji had hurt Nicholas’s feelings when Nicholas lost his match, immediately telling Nicholas he looked awful was probably not the move. He sat down silently on the bench beside Nicholas instead. Dante and Bobby were on the other side of the table, so maybe Nicholas had saved this seat for him.
Bobby beamed at the compliment. “Thanks, Harvard! We heard the trainees mingle after dinner and got dressed up to make a good impression.”
Seiji glanced uneasily down at his own clothes. Perhaps he was the one who’d gotten things wrong.
“I look the same as usual.”
Nobody had told him this was a formal gathering. He could go and put on one of his suits if it was required, as it was with certain drinks receptions, but nobody else was wearing a suit.
“Yeah, so you look cool already,” said Nicholas.
“Mmm,” said Bobby, going bright red.
Seiji edged closer to Nicholas. He wished Bobby didn’t dislike him so much. It made everything very awkward.
“We’re making get-well cards for Eugene,” Nicholas told him, nudging pencils and paper Seiji’s way. “Wanna draw one?”
Seiji gave some thought to what Eugene would like best on his card, and he drew a careful picture of protein shake ingredients, with a list by the side to show that the drawing was accurate. He folded the picture and wrote, Recover soon. Then he considered the matter some more and added Bro, because Eugene would like that.
Bobby and Dante squinted doubtfully as though they thought Seiji’s card was weird.
“Oh, cool card,” said Nicholas, hanging all over him in the way Nicholas did, which Seiji didn’t dislike. “Eugene will be into it.”
“That’s what I thought.” Seiji was pleased to be vindicated.
Harvard had sat down to make a card as well. “Good effort earlier, Nicholas.”
“I lost, like, really badly,” said Nicholas with a touch of gloom. “Everyone’s laughing at me.”
“They’re stupid, then,” said Harvard. “So what if you lost? I’m sure I’d lose against Bastien, too. You were brave enough to try.”
Bobby and Dante admired the card Harvard was making Eugene. “That’s such a nice message!” Bobby told Harvard.
So Seiji took this opportunity to talk quietly to Nicholas.
“When you lost the match earlier today…,” said Seiji, “was that—bad?”
“It wasn’t good,” said Nicholas. “Like, literally nobody thought I did well.”
“No, I mean… what I said. I was thinking, I should have offered more constructive criticism. I might have started by explaining to you what you did wrong.”
Nicholas shrugged. “Yeah, you could’ve done that.”
“You did practically everything wrong,” Seiji explained. “I wasn’t sure where to start.”
“Yup, total disaster,” Nicholas agreed easily. “Still, I’ll do better next time. Every match is an opportunity to learn.”
Seiji nodded. “I think so, too.”
“Right,” said Nicholas. “It’s chill.”
They were both chill. That was good. Beyond the safety of the picnic table, though, there were twinkly lights being turned on. The air was filled with the scent of garlic bread and the rich savory smells of beef bourguignonne and chicken chasseur. After dinner the gathering would begin, and soon Jesse would come.
“Since you don’t speak French”—Seiji cleared his throat—“you should stay beside me.”
“Yeah, I will.”
Seiji hesitated. “Promise you’ll do that.”
“Sure,” said Nicholas. “I promise.”
21 AIDEN
Aren’t you sure of Aiden, Captain?” Eugene asked from within the infirmary.
Harvard’s silence in response to that question echoed throughout the hall. Anyone who happened to be walking by might learn of Harvard’s lack of confidence in his best friend.
Aiden’s hand stilled on the handle of the infirmary door. Whatever. He shouldn’t check up on Eugene, because Eugene didn’t need him. Eugene had Harvard to comfort him. Nobody was better at that than Harvard, so Aiden didn’t even have to try. Aiden turned around and shoved the ghastly handful of weight-lifting magazines he’d collected at a startled nurse. Then he showed himself out.
Nobody else had much confidence in Aiden, but he’d always thought Harvard saw him differently. Saw him less the way he was and more the way he hoped to be. Only, of course, Harvard didn’t see him differently at all. That was why Harvard had turned him down.
It was fine, Aiden told himself. It was nothing he didn’t know already.
“Oh, hello there,” said some French guy, strolling up to Aiden. “You look nice.”
“Yes, that isn’t a new thing for me,” Aiden said absently.
The boy smiled. “Ready for our date?”
“Our what?” Aiden demanded irritably. “Who are you?”
The boy smiled wider as though he understood Aiden was playing a game, and he enjoyed the game, too. “I’m Bastien. I beat Nicholas Cox for you this morning. I’m thinking we could get dinner?”
Oh yes. He had offered that date. One more in a long list of terrible decisions Aiden had made.
Aiden said in a silky voice, “I’m thinking you should get lost.”
The cute French guy blinked.
“Seems we have a lot in common,” said Aiden. “I, too, think it’s hilarious to make a show of beating someone younger and considerably less skilled than me.”
The boy licked his lips. “I didn’t think about it that way. If you’re mad about that…”