FenceStriking Distance - Sarah Rees Brennan Page 0,12

term meant stop, putting an end to any fencing bout. Harvard always said it, never seemed to feel embarrassed about his ready surrender. He would always surrender rather than risk hurting Aiden.

Harvard wouldn’t give up in a real match—that would be letting down the team. But whenever they were practicing, all Aiden had to do was show a moment of vulnerability and Harvard would throw down both his weapon and his guard, unconcerned with protecting himself. Only concerned with Aiden.

That was just who Harvard was. That was why he was the only person Aiden was close to. He could allow Harvard within striking distance, because Harvard would never hurt anybody.

All those years ago, little-kid Harvard had felt sorry for little-kid Aiden. That was understandable. Little-kid Aiden was a sorry specimen. Harvard had never got out of the habit of feeling bad for him. If Aiden—his best friend—asked Harvard not to go out on a date with some random girl, Harvard wouldn’t do it.

Only Aiden couldn’t ask him.

If this was something Harvard actually wanted, something that would make him happy, Aiden couldn’t stand in the way.

There was a Greek legend about a hooded figure named Nemesis that pursued a man, slowly but surely coming closer to him. When Nemesis reached him, he would be destroyed. Aiden had always been uneasily aware of the shadow of the future, coming for him. They couldn’t always live together at Kings Row. They wouldn’t always be on the same fencing team.

One day, Harvard would leave. Like everybody else.

Aiden had been living on borrowed time for more than half his life. The most he could hope for was that someone would call a brief halt to inexorable progress, and he could avoid being hurt for a little longer.

“Are you really going on a date?” Aiden asked as casually as possible. Still hoping against hope that this might be a joke.

“Yeah.” Harvard sounded tired. “I really am.”

4: NICHOLAS

The walls in Kings Row were very smooth.

Maybe that was a weird thing to notice. Every room in Nicholas’s new school had some feature that struck him as unbelievably luxurious, but the walls were literally all around. Since that was, like, the point of walls.

In any of his old schools, or the many apartments he and Mom had lived in, the walls had always been in rough shape. Wallpaper so old it was worn away, strips torn off or damaged by water so that the paper turned a mottled brown and peeled off by itself like a rotten sentient banana. Or just cracked drywall, the usual scuffs or dents from a doorknob slamming into a wall too hard or a plate being thrown. Nicholas had figured that was how walls were. Nicholas had never thought about it much, until he came to Kings Row and woke to see a stretch of perfect white wall gleaming in the morning light beside his bed every morning. Every morning, the wall made him think: Where the hell am I?

He didn’t belong here. But it was nice, and he wanted to stay.

On the other side of Nicholas’s bed was a blue shower curtain, patterned with ducks, to separate his and Seiji’s halves of the room. Seiji had put it up for privacy, and because Seiji couldn’t deal with the sight of Nicholas’s face or the mess on Nicholas’s floor early in the morning. Even with the curtain, this room was the biggest Nicholas had ever slept in. Nicholas had figured the curtain was a good idea at the time. That was when he and Seiji hadn’t been getting along. But now—though they were still rivals—they’d recently agreed to be friends.

When they’d first met, Nicholas thought Seiji was the worst person and the best fencer he’d ever met. He hadn’t been able to get Seiji out of his head. All he’d been able to think about was getting into Kings Row and beating Seiji someday. Then they’d both come to Kings Row, been forced to be roommates, and Nicholas had got to know Seiji better. He still wanted to crush Seiji on the piste, but Nicholas thought being friends was going to be awesome.

Buddies probably didn’t need a strict separation of personal space. When Nicholas saved Seiji a seat on the team bus, Seiji didn’t mind when Nicholas’s stuff or limbs went everywhere. Well, Seiji sighed and snapped at him a lot, but Nicholas was pretty sure that was just part of their thing.

Nicholas pulled aside the curtain and peered out at the orderly part