“Did anyone happen to see Seiji around?” Nicholas asked the table casually. In a nonchalant way.
Everyone shook their heads.
“Seiji?” Bobby lifted his eyes from the table and gazed around in what appeared to be mild surprise. “Oh, right, he’s still not here.”
“No, he is not!” said Nicholas. He wondered how Bobby could possibly have missed that. Bobby was still in a weird mood.
Bobby stayed in a weird mood all day. He didn’t even really watch the afternoon training, just sat in the stands and stared into space while Melodie and Nicholas trained together again. Bobby was talking a lot less than usual.
After afternoon training and dinner, Bobby and Nicholas went on a walk that looped back around to the bus stop where they’d left Dante. They emerged from the trees to a path that ran along a low green hedge, beyond which were botanical gardens, a dozen different shades of green going muted silver with evening. As they walked down the winding road, a bus went by them, pebbles grinding beneath its wheels and the bus’s square windows yellow postage stamps against a black background. A tall figure stepped, with no fuss, off the bus.
“Dante!” Bobby shrieked, dashing down the road. He hurled himself like a brightly decorated cannonball against Dante’s chest.
Dante’s arms went around Bobby, catching him on reflex, but then he stared at Nicholas in alarm over Bobby’s head. “Did something happen?”
There! This was what they’d come to. Bobby was being so weird that Dante was speaking in complete sentences.
“I’m just really glad you’re back,” Bobby said into Dante’s shirt.
“I’m glad you’re back, too,” contributed Nicholas.
And he was glad. He was a normal amount of glad.
Dante didn’t even glance at him. He was concentrating on the top of Bobby’s brown, beribboned head as Bobby poured his heart out.
“I told myself all day I should’ve gone with you. I know you came to Camp Menton just to hang out with me, and I was only thinking about fencing and not about you. I figured it didn’t make sense to skip a day, but I would’ve liked going to Italy and meeting your cousins. I’ve been feeling like I was so mean, ever since you went.”
“I missed you, too,” said Dante.
Neither was paying any attention to Nicholas, and oddly Nicholas felt this was a moment he shouldn’t be part of. Probably a best friends thing.
He sneaked away. People said he wasn’t subtle, but Nicholas could do subtle when it was important.
27 AIDEN
Aiden woke to a morning that was still dark and the sound of his phone buzzing beneath his pillow.
He answered with a yawn. “Hello, Aiden’s house of repartee and recreation, please leave a tale of heartbroken love and longing after the beep.”
There was a startled cough. “Aiden?”
Aiden sat up in bed. “Claudine?”
“No,” said the woman’s voice on the other end of the line. “It’s your father’s fiancée!”
“Right,” said Aiden slowly. “So—Claudine?”
“My name is Brianna!”
“Is it?” Aiden could’ve sworn Claudine was the latest. This one sounded worryingly young. Aiden hoped his father wasn’t having a midlife crisis. “Are you calling to invite me to the wedding?”
He slid into his jeans and walked out the door, so he wouldn’t wake Harvard. The misty, awful memory of last night loomed in his mind, too much for him to deal with right now. He scooped up Harvard Paw into the crook of his arm for comfort in these dark times.
Brianna gave a tinkling, tight laugh. “Gosh, no, we’re planning a long engagement. No rush!”
“Finally, the man learns caution,” murmured Aiden.
“Sorry?”
“Oh, nothing.”
“Aiden, as your new mother figure, your father asked me to give you a call.”
“His genius at delegation is a vital part of his business empire,” mused Aiden.
Brianna’s airy, youthful, television-presenter voice went shrewd. “So, you keep getting into trouble, don’t you?”
Well, his father liked them to be smart. That was how he’d ended up with a beautiful, brilliant son. Aiden presumed his mother had been beautiful and brilliant, too. He had no clear memory of the woman. She looked good in magazines, but perhaps that was airbrushing.
“Couldn’t comment,” said Aiden. “This maternal support is very touching. Out of curiosity, are you in your early twenties?”
He wondered if Coach Williams had called his dad, or if it was the French coach who’d caught him when he crept in last night. He’d been sent to his room, and his body had been aching with exhaustion, but he couldn’t face Harvard after being expelled. In the terribly cold light of this terrible day, Aiden experienced a moment of out-of-body horror as the full impact of what had happened last night sank in.
“We received the call you were expelled from Camp Menton. They’re letting you stay and leave with your fellow students, though you are barred from training, and you would face discipline at Kings Row if you were remaining there. But of course, you’re not. Your father says you’re not to worry,” Brianna continued. “He was never certain Kings Row was a good fit for you, but you did insist on going there because of your little friend. He thinks there will be more scope for your talents at a different school. He thinks that boy was holding you back from what you were truly meant to be.”
So it was official. He was out of Kings Row forever.
Aiden laughed, almost hysterically. “Think about that phrase, holding you back. Aren’t we all looking for someone who will hold us back? But we hardly ever find them. What does dear old Dad think I am meant to be?”
“You could grow up to be a great man,” said Brianna. “You could grow up to be like him.”
She sounded as if she meant it. That was sad. In a year, his father wouldn’t remember this girl’s name. Nor would Aiden.
“The worst thing is,” Aiden said, “I really might.”
The morning breeze was soft as gentle fingers in Aiden’s hair. Aiden turned his face up to the sun and tried not to feel as if a trap was closing in on him.
Aiden hung up the phone in shock. He realized that he was going to be late for training, and then further realized that he was no longer welcome at training. He was really, truly out. Aiden felt weirdly empty about it and wandered aimlessly back into his and Harvard’s room, where Harvard had awoken and was getting ready for the day ahead. Aiden sat down silently on his bed.
“Aren’t you going to get ready?” Harvard asked in a measured voice.
It would ruin Harvard’s day, to hear his team was down a member. Aiden snapped on his charm in an instant.
“I don’t feel like fencing today.” Aiden winked. “Big night last night. Sorry!”
Harvard stood there, stunned, and Aiden knew he deserved the disgust on Harvard’s face. Aiden always had.
Maybe this was for the best. Aiden shrugged, took a last look at Harvard, and left the building.
Once he was out, he realized he was holding his épée, as if he were going to training. For lack of anything better to do, he walked into the lemon trees and began to do the drills.