“He’s not,” said Jesse. “He’s coming to Exton. I’ll make it happen. And I’m going to beat you.”
In the end, Jesse was too good to defeat, and Jesse cared far too much about winning to let any other feelings interfere. Aiden lost, but by a narrower margin than anyone else would’ve expected.
Jesse cast Aiden a look of triumph.
Aiden asked solicitously, “Does it feel like you won?”
“Yes, it feels like I won,” Jesse snapped. “Because I won! Did you miss that?”
Aiden shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “It’s like looking into a mirror, kid. Or it would be, but you’re not as cute or as smart as me. Don’t beat yourself up about it. Nobody is.”
He shook his head as he walked off, leaving Jesse alone. Harvard and Seiji weren’t similar people. Harvard was the single best person in the universe, and Seiji was extremely annoying and uptight, but they were both good people. They wouldn’t hurt people on purpose, and they didn’t understand when someone hurt them.
Seiji’s better off without you, Aiden thought as he left Jesse behind. And Harvard’s better off without me.
28 SEIJI
Coach had said Camp Menton was a place where they could learn new skills, including that of international cooperation. Seiji and Nicholas were in a fight. Just as Jesse’s friends had always preferred Jesse, obviously all of Nicholas’s friends preferred Nicholas, so it made sense for Seiji to stay away and work on international cooperation. Many of the other trainees wanted practice bouts with Seiji, so on the morning of the second day at camp, Seiji agreed to have a match with everyone who asked.
Seiji didn’t have to make small talk at Camp Menton. It was natural for everyone to talk about fencing. Seiji fit right in.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” asked his latest partner. “You beat me at a match in Marseille, more than a year ago.”
Well, almost.
“I beat a lot of people,” Seiji said truthfully.
The boy ground his teeth, clearly taking offense at simple honesty. “You won’t beat me again. What do you have to say to that?”
One of those, Seiji thought wearily. He’d forgotten, with Nicholas at Kings Row, where rival meant something different.
These boys thought of beating Seiji like winning a trophy. It would never occur to them to loyally attend Seiji’s other matches or take pleasure in watching Seiji fence. They wanted the victory. They didn’t want the game.
The boy didn’t get the victory he wanted. Once they started fencing, Seiji remembered his moves, and remembered that his opponent was mediocre at best. Seiji won fifteen to zero, and the other boy stormed off. People said that Seiji’s face was expressionless. They didn’t realize how carefully he’d trained himself not to constantly roll his eyes.
It relieved Seiji’s temper somewhat to beat everyone in camp who approached him for a match, but it certainly didn’t win him any friends. That was fine. Seiji was used to it. Seiji surveyed the stone walls of the Camp Menton salle, eyes narrowed, and he knew his every look was a challenge.
Once he’d won every match, people stopped making so many jokes about his team.
When he was done beating all comers, Seiji ate sitting at a picnic table by himself in the comforting shade provided by the trees. Eating alone was fine. He’d eaten alone plenty of times before, in France and at tournaments when he’d put people’s backs up, or when Jesse was annoyed with him, or at Kings Row before Nicholas had made them be friends. That hadn’t been Seiji’s suggestion. Seiji didn’t need or want friends.
He got up and headed for his room, then remembered Nicholas might be there.
Seiji turned and ran toward the crash of the sea. He stumbled over tree roots and loose stones. The air was heavy with salt and scented like citrus, slipping through Seiji’s lips and tasting bitter.
He ended up on a rocky outcrop looking onto the sea, under an olive tree shaking in the rising wind. Aiden was there. He was curled up near the edge of the outcrop. Aiden seemed to like being in dangerous places. He was shivering in his thin dark crimson top, sleeves pulled down over his hands and hair whipped around by the wind. His mouth looked bruised, and the skin around his eyes did, too, as though he’d been biting his lips and not sleeping.
Aiden didn’t take his gaze off the horizon, where the blue of the sea met the blue of the sky and the only difference between the two was that, in the sea, the reflection of the sun wavered. He didn’t evince any surprise Seiji was there. “Hey, Katayama.”
“Hey,” Seiji answered in a small voice.
“You want to be alone?” Aiden sounded almost kind.
Seiji hesitated, then shook his head.
Aiden had once beaten Seiji in a fencing match, throwing Seiji off by mentioning Jesse to him. Yet on a different occasion, Aiden had stood between Seiji and Jesse, and used the shining shield of his own assurance to give Seiji some confidence, too.
In some ways, Aiden was like Jesse. But he was on Seiji’s team.
“Can I tell you something?” Seiji asked.
“Yes, freshman, I am the ideal sympathetic ear.”
“Thank you. Nicholas left me with Jesse at the gathering, but Nicholas doesn’t know—”
“Oh, Seiji, please learn about sarcasm—” Aiden began, but the words were tumbling out now, and Seiji knew no way to stop them.
“Jesse challenged me to a fencing match. If I lose, I said I’d go to Exton with him. It makes sense for me to go. I know I don’t fit in at Kings Row,” Seiji confessed. “I’ve never—I don’t make friends easily. I get so much wrong. People don’t like me. In Europe, at least the other trainees care about how I fence. Before, there was always Jesse. There’s nothing like that at Kings Row. I’m never certain of anything there.”
“You’re doing fine at Kings Row,” said Aiden. “Everybody on the team likes you. One of your little friends has such a big crush on you that he can barely open his mouth when you’re around.”
“I—what?” asked Seiji. “Who?”
Nicholas? Seiji thought. Extremely strangely, his body temperature seemed to drop, and he had the impression there was less air around than there should be. No, it couldn’t be Nicholas. Nicholas talked all the time.
“Be kind to him if you can,” advised Aiden. “That stuff hurts.”
“Are you… hurt?” Seiji saw Aiden’s body coiling as though to spring, and added hastily, “I get up early. I heard Coach Robillard ask you to leave this morning. I know you were in trouble in school, too. Will something happen to you?”
Aiden’s body uncoiled, relaxing ever so slightly.
“I’m expelled. I guess it’s the same for me as it is for you.” Aiden stared out at the sea. “It makes sense for me to leave Kings Row. Maybe it would be better for me to go. But… now that it comes to it, I don’t want to.”
Aiden’s voice was low, almost lost beneath the rush of waves. If they were telling secrets, Seiji could tell his, too.
“I don’t want to go, either,” Seiji confessed.
“Then don’t go. Don’t play Jesse’s game, Seiji.”