Nicholas grinned at him shyly. “Appreciate it.”
Nicholas thought that’d been a totally successful trip into town, but for some reason, Eugene remained unusually quiet and thoughtful as they strolled out of the store and down the hill toward their school.
“My family doesn’t have a lot of money compared to some of the other Kings Row kids. We can’t, like, take vacays in Europe. I sometimes feel kinda lousy about it,” offered Eugene as they walked back through the winding streets.
“Oh really?” asked Nicholas. “I thought you guys were totally rich. Like, you have all those brothers and sisters, and I heard them mentioning having their own rooms? Even though there are so many of them!”
Nicholas hadn’t always had his own room, even though there was only one of him. Sometimes he slept on the sofa for a few months, until they had to move again. When they’d had a studio, he’d slept on the floor.
Eugene was quiet for a while longer.
“It’s relative, I guess, bro.” He shook himself out of whatever had him twisted up to add, “Those guys from our school? Don’t let them get you down. They’re jerks and bullies.”
“Oh, whatever.” Nicholas rolled his eyes. “They can try. Kind of adorable, if you ask me. Wow, I’m so sad—I totally didn’t notice I don’t have any money until you pointed it out, dudes! C’mon.”
He mimed wiping away tears running down his cheeks with his fists. Eugene was still looking a bit shell-shocked, for some reason.
Nicholas searched his mind for something to cheer up Eugene.
“Hey, you wanna know something funny? I thought you were trying to bully me the first time we met. When you gave me the wrong directions on my first day of school, and I got lost in the woods.”
Eugene, to Nicholas’s surprise, looked dismayed rather than amused.
“No!” he exclaimed. “Oh no! I thought it was a totally awesome prank! ’Cause, like… you were new, and you didn’t know which way to go, and you’d get… lost in the woods. In a hilarious way. ’Cause pranks are fun, right?”
Nicholas shook his head, grinning a little.
“You know we’re bros now, right?” Eugene asked anxiously.
Nicholas’s grin spread. “Yeah, I know we’re bros now.”
They fist-bumped. Eugene went home for dinner, since it was Saturday, and Nicholas walked slowly back to Kings Row alone.
He and Eugene were bros, but Eugene didn’t get it. He couldn’t, not really. Other people weren’t gonna make Nicholas feel lousy. It wasn’t about what other people did. It was about what Nicholas did, or failed to do. Or who Nicholas failed to be.
Hey, Dad, Nicholas thought defiantly, taking a detour to stop by the framed photograph of Robert Coste beside a shining trophy. Even in his mind, it felt like a lie. Robert’s blue eyes were fixed on his glittering prize. He couldn’t see Nicholas.
Nicholas didn’t care about limos or watches or morons. But he cared about other stuff.
Robert Coste didn’t know about Nicholas, and he wouldn’t want him if he did know. Robert knew about Jesse, though, and Jesse fit in at a school even fancier than Kings Row. Jesse was one of those rich kids who always got what they wanted.
Everything in the world that Nicholas wanted… it all belonged to Jesse. Even Seiji.
10: HARVARD
Harvard was pretty nervous about his second date of the weekend. He was afraid he’d spend another night feeling the same absolute wrongness he’d felt on Friday, wondering why he wasn’t happier to be there. He never wanted to feel that vacancy in his chest again, the knowledge he was expected to do something and couldn’t possibly do it. But Harvard worried if he chickened out now, he might never date again.
His mom had been understanding and embracing of all Harvard’s doubts on the phone, just as he’d known she would be.
You and me, kid, she used to say in the hospital when Dad was sleeping, his father’s wasted body quiet and still under white sheets. We’re a team.
Harvard always tried to be a good teammate, but his mom was the best. She was the one who encouraged him to go on a second date right away, told him that her friend Rita had a son he might like. She said she loved him and was proud of him, as she did every time he called, and she wanted him to be happy. She told him to grab every chance for happiness he got.
Harvard had a happy family, but they knew better than most how fragile happiness could be.
So he was going to try and be happy in a new way, which included figuring out who—if anyone—he wanted to kiss. He’d never thought about… physical stuff that much. That was Aiden’s specialty, and Harvard’s mind tended to veer away from the idea of Aiden and romance.
This wasn’t about Aiden. It was about Harvard and some guy.
Maybe a date with a guy would go better. Maybe it would feel better. He could only hope so.
He had some time to kill, and he didn’t want to get worked up worrying about his date, so Harvard tried to be productive and write his teamwork essay. Coach hadn’t technically said he had to do it, but since everyone else on the team was doing it—even Aiden—Harvard had decided he should, too.
He’d written about meeting Aiden when he was five, how they’d got along right away and how Harvard had known at once that Aiden was cool and funny and special. He knew what came next. He’d been avoiding it, but Harvard knew he shouldn’t avoid responsibility.
When I was seven, my dad got really sick, Harvard wrote. He got better. It’s all good now.
He felt he should add more to the essay about that, before he got onto the subject of fencing. Maybe about how his mom had been brave, and they’d been lucky?
He looked helplessly around his room. Aiden wasn’t there. He was probably on a date. Possibly two dates, since it seemed like Friday night’s hadn’t gone well. More and more over the last few years, Aiden was nowhere to be found.
When Aiden was out on dates and Harvard felt restless like this, he’d usually go to the salle and practice until he was exhausted enough to sleep and not anticipate the sound of Aiden coming in, accompanied or otherwise.
He could go to the salle now. Or he could drive around on his motorcycle. He’d got his license when Mom and Dad took him to Italy last year and had so much fun his parents had surprised him with a motorcycle on his birthday. Harvard didn’t ride it a lot now that he was back at school, but Mom had forcibly suggested he should pick up his date on the bike. He didn’t know why, but she seemed to feel strongly that it would improve his chances with Neil.
Driving the motorcycle would make Harvard think about the date later that night, which was exactly what he was trying to avoid.
He went to the salle, crossing a lawn that was half-shadow, half-gold in the setting sun, and ran through the arched doorway. Fencing was simple, as so many things weren’t. Fencing came with the assurance that if Harvard tried hard enough, it would make a difference. Harvard wasn’t powerless, the way he had been as a kid. He could accomplish something real.
Fencing also came with teammates. The salle was already occupied. Nicholas Cox was in there. Usually, Harvard would’ve joined Nicholas on the piste beside his, and maybe offered a couple tips, but this evening the sight of Nicholas made him hang back. Nicholas wasn’t practicing any of the moves Coach was trying hard to teach him, helping him catch up to the other students’ years of learned techniques. Instead, Nicholas was rushing forward, ever forward, in a flurry of swings. He seemed to be fighting invisible and unconquerable enemies that came from every side.