FenceStriking Distance - Sarah Rees Brennan Page 0,10

had.

He’d kept the bear, too. Good thing he had, since it couldn’t run off and desert him like everyone else.

The door opened, and Harvard returned, sliding his phone into his pocket and looking just—not the same as when they were kids, but essentially the same. Mature and responsible for his age, no matter what that age was. Aiden relaxed fractionally. In a world of blackmail and inexplicable cupcakes, Harvard made sense.

“Where did you go?” Aiden demanded. “Why did you go?”

“You told me to leave you alone,” Harvard answered. “So I went out.”

Aiden held up the hand that wasn’t holding his bear in protest. “That’s a very strange interpretation of my words.”

Leave me alone obviously didn’t mean Go away and actually leave me all alone. It meant Your supportive presence is always welcome, but please don’t talk to me about the fencing team right now. Harvard had heartlessly and senselessly abandoned Aiden in his time of greatest need.

Since Harvard had come back, Aiden was prepared to be forgiving.

“Can’t believe we were abandoned like this,” Aiden told his bear loudly. “You’re my only friend now, Harvard Paw.”

He used the bear’s little paw to hit Harvard in the arm as punishment for his crimes.

Harvard rolled his eyes. “I stepped out for ten minutes and called my mom.”

“Okay, you’re off the hook,” said Aiden. “Please explain life’s mysteries to me. Is there a reason my bed is covered in cake? Are the students of Kings Row doing a reenactment of the French Revolution?”

Perhaps the entire school had got high on paint fumes today.

“Marie Antoinette didn’t actually say ‘Let them eat cake’ about the starving peasants,” Harvard said conscientiously. “That was just something people said to feel okay about cutting off her head. You can’t trust surface reports of history.”

“Can’t trust much in this life,” drawled Aiden. “Can you unravel the cake mystery?”

“My bed is covered in gifts for you,” said Harvard slowly. “Gifts that, since they are on my bed, I am keeping.”

Aiden fussed with Harvard Paw, who still had remnants of frosting on him. “Sure, sure.”

He always let Harvard eat the Valentine’s Day chocolates Aiden got, partly to make his best friend happy. Partly out of guilt.

“There are notes everywhere from random students asking you to consider them as your new roommate,” Harvard continued, a strange note in his voice.

Aiden hugged his bear to his chest and recalled he deserved to be showered in sympathy. “Right! You won’t believe the horror of the day I’m having! Coach threatened me.”

No sympathy was forthcoming. The world remained unjust.

Harvard was frowning at him. “What are you talking about?”

Aiden made a face. “Coach said that if I didn’t do this imbecilic team bonding exercise, she’d make me switch rooms. Now I have to write an essay.”

“Oh,” said Harvard. “Yeah, that’s… about what I thought must’ve happened. So that’s what you’re doing.”

Sympathy was forthcoming at last—Harvard was off his game today—when Harvard slung his arm around Aiden’s shoulders and tugged him close. It was the same old gesture, though Harvard’s arms were far bigger and stronger now, and Aiden’s shoulders thankfully less skinny. Aiden let himself lean in.

Harvard’s face was clear now, free of whatever had been preoccupying him. He was even smiling a little. “Aw. Would you miss me?”

Aiden elbowed Harvard in the ribs. “Hardly. But imagine the hideous consequences if I had to switch rooms. Either I have to put up with some miscreant like Nicholas Cox, or my roommate falls in love with me, and you know what happens next. Scenes. Tears. Unreasonable demands like ‘Why can’t you remember my name?’ Besides, it would disrupt my elaborate scheme to kill you and have the only single room in Kings Row. Imagine the trouble I could get into with my own room! I couldn’t let anyone get in the way of that.”

Harvard shrugged comfortably. “Yeah, yeah.”

“You should be on your knees,” said Aiden. “Thanking me. If I wasn’t writing this essay, you’d have to room with Eugene.”

“I like Eugene,” contributed Harvard.

“More than me?”

“What do you think, idiot?” asked Harvard fondly.

He gave Aiden’s shoulders a last squeeze and let him go. Aiden’s side where Harvard had been was now colder than Aiden preferred. Aiden flicked a last bit of frosting from Harvard Paw’s ear.

“How’s everything at home?”

“Good,” said Harvard. “Mom’s setting me up on a date.”

That surprised an uneasy laugh out of Aiden. “What put that wild idea into her head? Don’t worry, I’ll handle—”

“I put the idea into her head,” Harvard said mildly. “Coach suggested I