FenceStriking Distance - Sarah Rees Brennan Page 0,24

another. When Seiji turned around to consult with Nicholas and Eugene, they were nowhere to be found. Seiji felt lost and confused in a dark-green world.

He decided to head for the road he could glimpse through the trees. Roads led to civilization. A road would lead him back to school.

As Seiji reached the road, winding through the trees like a dark snake, a gleaming black limousine turned a curve. Seiji stepped to the side to let the car go past. He had no wish to be run over.

The limousine came to a halt. A shiny black door opened, and a smooth golden head emerged, almost silver in the dusk.

“Seiji?” said Jesse Coste in obvious astonishment. “What are you doing out here? And where is your shirt?”

This couldn’t be happening. This must be a nightmare. No, that was a panicked and irrational thought.

Seiji, perfectly able to distinguish awful reality from dreams, pulled himself together. “I’m jogging through the woods near my school. What are you doing here?”

He was grateful that his voice sounded cool and distant, as though he were doing a completely reasonable thing and asking a completely reasonable question. Jesse looked precisely as Seiji remembered him, as Jesse always did: in control without even having to try, without being aware there was any other option.

“I’m headed to the airport for a tournament,” Jesse answered, then raised an eyebrow. “Your school? That’s cute.”

“It is my school,” Seiji pointed out evenly.

He was getting through this ordeal with dignity, he told himself. Then he heard a rough voice calling his name. Seiji’s heart sank.

Nicholas came blundering through the trees with all the grace and subtlety of a lost hippopotamus.

“Oh, there you are,” said Nicholas, frowning.

Seiji was more or less accustomed to Nicholas by now, but he could vividly imagine Nicholas through Jesse’s eyes at this moment, and it was hideous to contemplate. Nicholas had leaves in his hair, dirt on his chest, and a raw piece of meat hung around his neck. He was a monument to the mess Seiji’s life had become.

Then Nicholas noticed Jesse and went absolutely still.

“You,” Nicholas murmured in a strange, faltering voice, as though too shocked to think of any other word.

“And… you?” said Jesse. “Who are you? Did I—Never mind, doesn’t matter.”

Jesse made a dismissive gesture, flicking away Nicholas’s existence as though it were a crumbled leaf that had fallen onto Jesse’s Exton uniform. He turned his head, not a golden hair out of place, back to Seiji.

“As I was saying, before we were so rudely interrupted”—Jesse’s tone invited Seiji to share the joke, but Seiji didn’t feel like joking—“I think it’s well past time you gave up this absurd notion of Kings Row. You’ve made your point. You don’t belong at this third-rate school with these third-rate students. You need to be at Exton with me. That’s where you really belong.”

His voice was convincing, but then Jesse always did have conviction. Seiji knew Jesse well enough to know it wasn’t false assurance. Everything about Jesse was golden: voice, laugh, skill, confidence. Everything about him said, I’m on the winning side. Jesse never doubted that. Nor did he have any reason to doubt. Jesse’s whole life so far had proven him right.

When Seiji had first met Jesse, Robert Coste was with him, speaking proudly of Jesse’s ability. Jesse’s father watched every one of Jesse’s matches and monitored his training. Seiji wondered what it would be like, to be able to inspire the kind of pride Jesse could. He wanted to learn how.

Always keep moving toward your target, Seiji’s dad had said once at the breakfast table, talking about business. That made sense to Seiji, so he’d remembered it.

If Seiji was with Jesse, he wasn’t a weird loner whose appearance in the dining hall caused widespread mockery. His intense training made sense to everybody, because he wasn’t just a prodigy. He was Jesse Coste’s training partner, and he had to live up to that. If Seiji was with Jesse, he was chosen and special. In Jesse’s presence, Seiji wasn’t lost and wandering in the dark, having taken all the wrong turns. He wasn’t alone.

Seiji always tried to control his expressions, but Jesse knew him well enough to recognize the hint of surrender on his face. Jesse had seen it before.

Jesse smiled as he always did when he got his way, pleased but not surprised. He moved away from the limo and toward Seiji, smooth as when he was delivering the coup de grâce in a match, with