FenceStriking Distance - Sarah Rees Brennan Page 0,6
Almost.
“One day we’ll hire a bunch of nuns to sing ‘How Do You Solve a Problem Like Aiden?’ and maybe we’ll receive an answer,” said Coach. “Besides him, don’t you get tired of running around after the team, solving their problems?”
“Um,” said Harvard. “No? I’m the captain.”
“You did it before you were captain, though.”
Coach seemed to be in a funny mood.
“I was happy to help,” said Harvard. “And I was hoping to be chosen as captain. Which I was. Thanks, Coach! So, it’s all good. Except I’m not really following you here.… If you’re not worried about Aiden, is it Seiji or Nicholas?”
“I’m worried about you,” said Coach.
“Me?” Harvard repeated, shocked. “But I’m—”
“All good?”
Coach raised a single eyebrow.
“Well…,” Harvard said. “Yeah. What’s this got to do with team bonding?”
“I’m glad you asked. Your special personal assignment is to remember there’s a me in team,” Coach told him.
Harvard blinked.
“Do you realize the only person on the team you’re not tenderly concerned about is you?”
“Oh right! I get it now. I could definitely get some more practice in,” Harvard suggested. “I’ll ask Seiji or Aiden—”
Coach held up a hand. Harvard felt seven years old again, confused and at a loss. The only thing he could be certain of was there must be something he could do to fix this and please her, but he couldn’t think what.
“No. Don’t think about fencing. Think about yourself.”
“Coach,” Harvard said helplessly, “I’m fine.”
“Yes,” said Coach. “But are you happy?”
“Well, of—”
“Don’t answer me right away,” said Coach. “Think about it. When was the last time you did something purely for yourself? Go on a date or something.”
Harvard’s head snapped back so hard Coach’s cool sword posters blurred in his vision.
“A date!” said Harvard. “What do you mean?”
“You know, the sweet fruit that’s a staple food in the Middle East.” Coach rolled her eyes. “I mean an outing, its intent entertainment and romance. You’re Aiden’s best friend. Surely you’ve become familiar with the concept of a date by osmosis? I’d understand if you didn’t know what a second date was.…”
She trailed off. Harvard must have looked slightly traumatized.
More gently, Coach said, “If you don’t have any interest in romance, that’s more than okay. It was just a suggestion. You don’t have to date. You can get ice cream or play a video game.”
“I do!” exclaimed Harvard. “Uh, that wasn’t an ‘I do’ to playing video games, though I do occasionally. With my little cousin. Some of those games are very violent. Never mind that,” he added hastily. “I mean—I do have an interest in romance. Dating. I mean, I always thought it might just—happen.…”
“Did you believe a date might fall out of a tree?” asked Coach. “Again, you may be thinking of the fruit.”
Harvard met many wonderful people and tended to get along with them pretty well. He’d had the hazy thought, now and then, that one day he’d meet someone great and feel what was described as a coup de foudre: a strike of lightning. Or a coup de maître: a masterstroke, someone delivering a strike that was both utterly recognizable and irresistible. He’d thought he would meet someone, and they would make sense to him in the same way fencing did. He’d want to be around them all the time.
That hadn’t happened so far. Harvard hadn’t worried about it. His mother said it was best to wait to get serious, and Harvard knew himself well enough to be aware he tended to get serious about everything. He’d probably meet someone in college. They’d get married and adopt a totally great dog. It would be…
All good, Coach’s voice said in his mind, cynically.
He’d been silent for too long, he realized. Coach was giving him a keen look, sympathetic but still uncomfortable to receive. Her eyes were searching for an answer he’d just realized he didn’t have.
“So that’s your teamwork assignment,” said Coach gently. “Go think about yourself.”
And dating, apparently. Harvard nodded and left the coach’s office, somewhat dazed.
There was always so much other stuff to do. He didn’t want to let anybody down. Like he’d told Coach, he was fine, and he wanted to make sure everybody else was fine, too. He wasn’t lonely. He had Aiden.
Usually.
He climbed the stairs, dark paneling on all sides. The stairs seemed narrower than normal today.
Maybe another reason Harvard hadn’t tried dating was Aiden. Romantic stuff came so easily to his best friend. When they went into the city, Aiden was constantly approached by admirers and modeling agency scouts. All Aiden