Aiden spoke very fast and was being ridiculous.
Harvard remained determinedly reasonable. “I’m just saying—it’ll be better now. You have your, uh, social whirl, and I have Neil. No more nights home alone for either of us.”
“If it bothered you,” Aiden said in an unusually subdued tone, “you should have told me. I wouldn’t have gone anywhere if I’d known you wanted me to be here.”
“I couldn’t ask you to do that!”
Harvard regarded Aiden with horror. What did Aiden think of him? What kind of best friend would ask their friend to give up all that? Playing video games with Harvard would be a real step down from Mediterranean cruises.
“You could have asked me,” said Aiden. “I would have said yes. Whatever you ask me for, I’ll say yes.”
His tone was unusually serious.
Harvard smiled. “Then I’m asking you for this. You don’t have to give up every night for me, but will you please give me one?”
“Yes. Yes, I will.” Aiden’s voice went extremely cheerful, brittle glass catching a glaring light. “A double date tonight! What fun. I wish I’d suggested this myself.”
Harvard was surprised, but pleasantly so. “Really?”
“I’m definitely not lying! Let me acquire a date right now.”
“Did you not have one before?” Harvard asked, but Aiden wasn’t listening.
Aiden had sprung from bed and was pulling on his uniform in a haphazard fashion. Somehow, when Aiden was a dire mess, he made it look good—in a particular way that made people stare.
This was more of a mess than usual. People were staring more than they normally did as Aiden made his tempestuous way down the hall, Harvard following in his wake. Harvard had pulled on his own clothes, too, but he feared his was not a state of alluring disarray.
Aiden halted by the first cute boy he saw. “What are you doing tonight?”
The boy seemed staggered. Harvard didn’t blame him. Aiden sounded rather as though he was demanding the boy’s money or his life.
“Being… heterosexual?” the boy answered at last.
Aiden stood there being gorgeous at him. A stunned and dazzled expression grew on the boy’s face, as though he’d accidentally looked directly into the sun or encountered a pinup model.
“Or maybe… not?” said the boy, a long pause between the words.
Too long. Aiden got impatient with people.
“Okay, I don’t have time for this, see you!” said Aiden, racing past with the boy calling “Wait!” faintly to his retreating back.
Harvard gave the boy an apologetic glance, then jogged after Aiden. Over the years, he’d developed a stride that covered a lot of ground so he could keep pace when Aiden went rogue.
People were mostly charmed by Aiden. Harvard understood that; he was, too. It didn’t mean he approved of everything Aiden did, and he pointed that out to Aiden often enough, but he was always more charmed than disapproving. It all reminded Harvard of being five and having Aiden tell him that he’d named his bear Harvard Paw. Naming the toy after the person who’d given it to him, and making a pretty advanced pun as well, was just like Aiden. He was always whip-smart, hilarious, and secretly sweet beneath everything else.
When scorned guys asked Harvard how he put up with it, Harvard understood what they meant. He’d just answer: “I like it.”
He did. He’d always wanted to be good, for his mom and his team and in general. He didn’t want to let anybody down. He enjoyed doing his best, but watching Aiden go his wild way gave Harvard a sense of freedom, too.
Harvard had always thought this made him and Aiden a good team. The best.
Aiden’s rush was halted when a tall guy gave him a very obvious once-over.
“Hey, you,” said Aiden. “Congratulations! You’re going on a date with me tonight.”
“Uh… great,” said the guy. “Do you want to know my name?”
“Let’s keep the mystery alive between us,” drawled Aiden, already turning away.
Harvard mouthed Sorry before he followed Aiden.
The guy mouthed back his name.
“I’ll tell Aiden,” said Harvard. “See you later, bye! Looking forward to it.”
Aiden would like Neil, Harvard was sure. Neil was so fun and nice. And of course, Neil would like Aiden. Nobody could help liking Aiden.
This date would be amazing.
15: SEIJI
That morning when Seiji came to breakfast, he discovered Dante attempting to take the seat beside Nicholas.
“Hey, dude, no, I’m saving this seat for Seiji,” said Nicholas.
Dante rolled his eyes without a word and went around the table.
Seiji took the seat with a faint feeling of satisfaction. Naturally, Nicholas didn’t want to sit beside Dante. Who would?
“There’s no actual need to save a seat for me,” Seiji informed Nicholas.
Nicholas waved him off as if he were an annoying fly. “I’m gonna, you can’t stop me.”
Seiji supposed he couldn’t. He started eating his breakfast, though Nicholas eyeballed Seiji’s protein-rich green smoothie suspiciously. Nicholas had no idea about the importance of nutrition.
Bobby and Dante were gossiping, which meant Bobby was talking and Dante was listening. Seiji listened as well, to be polite, though it was not a particularly interesting conversation.
“My hand to God, Aiden was asking people out in the hallways,” Bobby said. “I heard it from Brian and Juan told him, and Eduardo was there watching it happen with his own two eyes. So weird. Aiden always waits for them to come to him!”
Nicholas snorted. “Why would anyone come to Aiden? Like, then you have to listen to him talk. Blah, blah, blah, rich boy being rude to people. Um, fascinating, I don’t think so. Dante, are you gonna finish your eggs?”
Dante gathered the eggs toward himself, glowering. “Yes.”
Nicholas drew back a questing fork. “Just asking, asking’s not a crime.”
Seiji mulled over what Nicholas had just said, remembering what Eugene had told him about the boys from Kings Row framing Nicholas. He’d known that Nicholas didn’t like Aiden, but Seiji didn’t like Aiden much himself. He hadn’t realized what Nicholas’s dislike was based on.
“What do you mean,” Seiji asked, “rich boy?”
“Oh, you know, Seiji.” Nicholas gestured with his empty fork. “Rich boys. They’re the worst.”
This was becoming alarming. Aiden’s father was a notoriously wealthy lothario, but Seiji had to wonder what the cutoff in Nicholas’s head was. Seiji was always offending people, and his father’s income was far above average.
“My father is rather well-off,” Seiji admitted.
Had Nicholas not realized?
“I figured. I didn’t mean rich as in rich,” said Nicholas.
“That was the precise word you used!”
It appeared Nicholas really had decided words had no meaning anymore. Life would be so confusing from now on.
“No, see,” said Nicholas, and adopted a peculiar nasal intonation. “There’s a particular type of rich boy, who’s all ‘Daddy, I want this; Daddy, I want that; Daddy, I want to treat other people like dirt because I think it’s amooosing—’”