Disarmed (Fence #2)

by Sarah Rees Brennan

“Does everyone wear pajamas in France?” asked Nicholas sadly. “Yes,” said Seiji. Everyone rational wore pajamas, in every country. Nicholas was basically feral.

Seiji, plainly unable to deal with this situation, looked around for his security idiot, Nicholas Cox.

“Oh, cool card,” said Nicholas, hanging all over him in the way Nicholas did, which Seiji didn’t dislike. “Eugene will be into it.”

He could feel Harvard’s warmth through his wet clothes. Later that night, they had been caught in a rainstorm and kissed frantically up against the door of their dormitory. I love your hair, Harvard had murmured in Aiden’s ear. For a couple of days after, whenever Aiden looked in the mirror, he’d thought of Harvard saying that, touched his own hair, and smiled.

“Dancing under the stars would be fun,” Bobby said wistfully, hopping from foot to foot. There were strings of white light threaded through the lemon trees, mirroring the stars and making curves like tiny galaxies captured in a net of leaves. The lights in the lemon trees caught red and white sparks off the sequins on Bobby’s shirt as he hopped. Dante cleared his throat. “Let’s.” Surprise touched Bobby’s face. “Really, will you? Aw, what a pal. Are you sure you don’t mind?” Dante didn’t answer in words, since that wasn’t Dante’s way. He led Bobby out onto the cleared space that was the dance floor and leaned back and forth like a tall tree bending slightly in a storm, while Bobby danced enthusiastically around him in a circle.

Seiji was a shade taller than Nicholas, which Nicholas kind of liked for some reason he couldn’t pin down. Nicholas tilted a grin up at him. It was far better to be silent and awkward with Seiji than to do anything else with anyone else.

Aiden never wanted to be the one in a vulnerable position ever again. And he never had been, except with Harvard. He’d put his heart in Harvard’s hands when he was too young to know it wasn’t safe to give your heart to anyone. They were the best hands Aiden knew. He trusted Harvard not to crush his heart or throw it away, to be careful with it. Even now, his heart was in Harvard’s hands. He didn’t want it back. He wasn’t planning to use it. Honestly, if it were anywhere else, it wouldn’t feel like Aiden’s heart at all. He just wished he could cut the strings connecting himself to his heart, constantly tugging Aiden in Harvard’s direction, making Aiden long to be wherever Harvard was. Once the connection was cut, Aiden could live perfectly well without his heart. His father would like him better that way. He’d do better that way. Everyone knew he was born to be the heartless type.

“You can still meet me,” Aiden proposed. “I’m planning to get-together with another almost stepmother of mine, someday soon. You could come, and we could all trash my dad at a Michelin-star restaurant and put the bill on his tab.” “We’ll see,” Brianna answered, but Aiden thought it sounded like she was in for a meeting of the Almost-Stepmothers Club.

“You’re my match,” said Nicholas. “You’re the match I’m going to win someday. The one I’m looking forward to the most.”