39 SEIJI
Nicholas had forced Seiji out onto the dance floor, which was a hideous experience. Then Nicholas went away and came back with Eugene and a mystifying story of doomed romance that they all had to listen to.
Seiji had heard that bad things always came in threes, and that seemed true. Next, Nicholas and Bobby stunned the populace by doing karaoke. Eugene had gone first with a soulful ballad about lost love, and Seiji had found that horrible. Nicholas and Bobby’s enthusiastic duet was much worse.
“I hate everything that’s happening,” Seiji informed Dante. “Don’t you?”
“Nope,” said Dante, smiling over at Bobby.
It occurred to Seiji that right now, Nicholas’s (terrible!) and Bobby’s (rather nice) singing was providing him with a cover. This gave Seiji the opportunity to resolve an issue that had been worrying him.
He made his way to the corner where the adults were talking and had a brief private discussion with Coach Robillard.
Once the duet was over, Bobby and Nicholas returned. Instantly, Dante stood and asked Bobby to go on a walk.
Nicholas came over and slumped gracelessly onto the bench beside Seiji. Almost everyone at the party was wearing some type of formal wear, except for Nicholas, who was wearing ripped black jeans and his Kings Row hoodie. He was drumming his fingers on the surface of the picnic table. He was an irritating mess, and no doubt he would soon pester Seiji into engaging in another uncomfortable social activity.
Overall, Seiji found this to be a pleasant party.
40 HARVARD
Menton harbor after the sun went down was like an oil painting of heaven in the evening. The towers and buildings of the town still glowed sunshine gold, holding on to the sunset like light trapped in amber. The sea was black already but painted with electric lights. Bold, brilliant stripes of color went blurred at the edges against the waves, as though the oil in the painting was running.
It was all so beautiful, and Harvard didn’t care. He just wanted to see Aiden.
As he ran down the esplanade toward the waterfront, he passed by Bobby and Dante, taking a walk along the harbor by moonlight. Bobby was shivering slightly in his thin silk top.
“Here,” said Dante, taking off his blazer. “There’s a postcard from Italy for you in the pocket,” he added when Bobby hesitated.
Bobby’s face scrunched in a confused smile. “Why did you get me a postcard when you saw me at breakfast that morning, and you knew you were going to see me that evening?”
Dante shrugged. “Guess I was thinking about you.”
Bobby hesitated, then gave a sudden decisive nod, and Dante draped the blazer onto Bobby’s thin shoulders. It was extremely big on him.
“Thanks, Dante,” said Bobby, wrapping the blazer around himself like a huge blanket. “It’s really warm.”
“Bobby…,” said Dante.
“Yeah?” Bobby glanced up. “Talk to me.”
Dante visibly searched for words, failed to find them, and muttered, “Tell you later.”
He sent you postcards every day whenever he went away, to say, Thinking of you, pointed out Arune’s voice in Harvard’s mind, and Harvard winced.
The yachts were lined up in the harbor like tethered white clouds floating on the water. Harvard didn’t need to ask anyone which boat belonged to Aiden’s father. He knew it would be the largest and most ostentatious.
As he ran along the dock and then scrambled onto the yacht, he saw stars shivering in the sea, faint light wavering on the surface of dark, troubled waters. He was terrified of what he had to do, but he wasn’t letting Aiden down again.
The yacht was suspiciously still and silent, when Harvard had expected the happy bustle of a party. He crept through the mirrored hallways until he finally heard the low, familiar murmur of Aiden’s voice.
“I shouldn’t,” Aiden was saying. “It’s too wicked. How could I live with myself?”
Harvard hesitated, with his hand pressed to the gleaming mahogany of the door. Was some guy fooling around with Aiden already? A sick, scraping feeling began in his chest, as if there were a trapdoor opening there and all of Harvard’s insides were falling through.
“I don’t care,” Aiden decided. “I have no conscience. I’m eating a fifth cupcake.”
Harvard drew in a deep, relieved breath and pushed open the door to reveal a ballroom, a gleaming parquet floor and a chandelier like a multifaceted crystal glass filled with ice. The sliding double doors of the ballroom were folded back to reveal the master bedroom, which seemed to be mostly a wide bed made up with white linen and turquoise silk sheets. Aiden was sitting at the foot of the bed in formal wear. His hair was loose, and his bow tie untied. Harvard Paw was propped up to sit by his side, and he had a frosted cupcake in hand. Aiden was also whispering seductively to his teddy bear, but Harvard didn’t feel equipped to deal with that issue.
Aiden glanced up at the sound of the door opening. His eyes widened fractionally, but that was all. Harvard looked at those well-known and well-beloved eyes, a darker green than usual, and thought, Troubled waters. This was his fault. He had to make it right.
“Hey, Harvard,” murmured Aiden.
“Hey, Aiden,” said Harvard. “I love you.”
Aiden blinked and put his cupcake down. “I love you, too, buddy,” he said in a light, careful voice, his words like the footsteps of someone walking a tightrope over blades. “Is something wrong?”
Yes, something was wrong. Something was wrong with Aiden, and now Harvard was looking properly, without his own assumptions and doubts in the way, it was so clear. Aiden’s mouth pulled tight on the word buddy and always had. How had Harvard not seen before?
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” asked Harvard. Then it occurred to him that he’d come to confess to Aiden, not force Aiden to any painful revelations. He’d caused Aiden enough pain. He continued, after a brief pause, “What happened to the party?”
“Called it off. I’m not really in a party mood,” said Aiden.
“Are you feeling sick?” Harvard asked anxiously, then realized the more likely answer. “Oh God. Am I intruding? Do you have plans?”
Terror was a rapid, continuous rush in Harvard’s ears, like the sound of the sea. Aiden only shook his head, his face confused.
“I can go if you do,” Harvard told him gently. “I will go. I won’t stay long, and I don’t expect anything from you at all. I just wanted to say this: Aiden, I’m so sorry.”
There was a smile beginning to curl up at the corners of Aiden’s mouth, indulgent. It might be the last time Aiden ever smiled at him that way.
“I don’t have plans. I thought… what’s the point? And I didn’t have an answer. Why are you sorry? Whatever it is, I forgive you. If you killed somebody, it’s fine. We have the Mediterranean to hide the body in. Harvard Paw and I will provide a foolproof alibi. Come tell me, I’m curious. What horrible thing have you done?”
Harvard had always wanted to do the right thing, to fix problems and never cause them. Because he’d tried to think of other people first, he’d never imagined he could have power over Aiden. He’d assumed Aiden had the power, that Harvard was the only one who could be hurt, and Harvard was too scared of being hurt to take down his defences and tell Aiden what he wanted. Harvard was still scared. He didn’t know if he could do this.