a symbol of everything that had gone wrong in Seiji’s life, all order lost and only chaos remaining. For a moment, Seiji hated him.
Nicholas made a graceless snorting sound and plunged into the woods. Seiji wasn’t worried about losing him. Nicholas was practically crashing into the trees and trampling the undergrowth with his stop-traffic-red sneakers. His path of destruction would be simple to follow. For now, Seiji lingered on the dark road where Jesse had been, as night fell.
Nobody could rival Jesse. Nobody could replace him, either.
Seiji was alone.
8: AIDEN
Aiden kissed a boy and saw stars. He was lying on his back in the grass, staring up at the night sky, and there were stars in it. There were also several clouds, though not as many as Aiden could wish for.
“Does it seem like hurricane weather to you?” asked Aiden.
“—you’re so hot?” said Whatshisface.
“Feels like the wind’s picking up a little though, right?”
“No,” murmured Aiden’s date. “Seems to me it’s going to be a really nice night.”
“Why would you say something like that?” Aiden demanded.
The boy gave him a somewhat quizzical glance. Aiden had to admit, he hadn’t been bringing his A game, so he stretched out languidly on the picnic blanket, laced his fingers through the boy’s long brown (red? It was dark out here) hair, and pulled him down for another kiss. The boy gave a soft, delighted sigh.
“I used to watch you in the halls,” the boy murmured in his ear, “and wonder… Did you ever think about me, too?”
Aiden wasn’t thinking about this boy now.
Before Aiden could say “So, this is awkward,” the boy kissed him again. He wasn’t a bad kisser. Hooking up made Aiden think of fencing, sometimes. The sheer physicality of it, the smooth, skilled movements flowing and arching to a victorious end. Knowing your opponent’s moves, weaknesses, what would get to them. Scoring all the points you could. And, in the end, turning away.
The boy began to unbutton Aiden’s shirt, and Aiden turned away from stars and kisses.
“Are you finding it difficult to concentrate?” Aiden asked, and the boy stilled, looking slightly helpless. Aiden grinned and shrugged. “Just me, I guess.”
When you weren’t feeling it, you weren’t feeling it.
Shortly after, Aiden found himself alone in his room, which hardly ever happened. On the rare occasions it did, Aiden was used to knowing where he could go to find Harvard and expect a warm welcome: at his house or hanging out with friends or in the salle. Tonight, Aiden couldn’t go be where Harvard was. Tonight, Harvard was on his stupid date.
Aiden decided he would take advantage of the peace and quiet to write his essay. He’d done some reading about what might be expected from this sort of assignment, and one idea had been life lessons Aiden had learned from trusted authority figures.
Aiden’s father had remarked once that some women were sports cars on the way to champagne brunch, and some were family vans headed to soccer practice. Aiden knew which his father preferred.
Aiden’s father didn’t actually talk to the women in his life, but Aiden did. Many of his dad’s girlfriends got lonely. They would chatter to Aiden in order to pass the time and fill the echoing Italian-marble rooms with some semblance of life.
Sometimes what they said was useful.
Heather the professional cheerleader, who could put her hair up into a high and sleek ponytail in two seconds flat, told him once, “Other girls on the squad say couples split because of money or cheating or fights, but I don’t think so. There’s only one reason relationships end: Somebody loses interest. And somebody always will. Just make sure you’re the one who loses interest first, Aidy.”
Aiden nodded shyly. “How do you make someone interested in the first place?”
Heather’s injection-paralyzed brow failed to wrinkle as she thought. “Don’t be too nice. Don’t care too much. Don’t let them be sure of you. Always be something different and gorgeous and fascinating, so they don’t know what to expect.”
“Like a chameleon?”
“Sure, if you’re always a beautiful chameleon. Just remember to be gone long before you lose a man’s interest, I always say!” Heather added, winking and laughing merrily at her own lovely face in the mirror.
Aiden was just a prop in the room back then, a slight, unremarkable kid only useful as an audience. The only person who really noticed him was Harvard, and Harvard noticed everybody.
Heather hadn’t taken her own advice. She’d lingered too long, and Aiden’s dad had ditched her with particular