FenceStriking Distance - Sarah Rees Brennan Page 0,7
had to do was smile at people, and they fell in love. Aiden had his own devoted fan club, a group of boys Aiden had nicknamed the Bons, who came to every fencing match. Trying to date with Aiden around would be like learning to play a keyboard around the world’s foremost concert pianist.
When Aiden was busy with a guy—which, in recent years, happened more and more—Harvard had his team, his family, and other friends. Kally and Tanner were good guys. Kings Row was a great place. Someone always needed help with fencing or homework. Harvard led a very full life.
Yes, Coach had said. But are you happy?
Harvard walked slowly down the hall to his dormitory, lost in thought.
When he opened the door, he found his roommate hunched over his laptop like a vexed cat brooding over an unsatisfactory dead mouse. His green eyes flashed with displeasure at being interrupted.
“Hey,” said Harvard. “You seemed off earlier. You okay? Want to talk?”
“I need quiet!” Aiden snapped.
“I’ll take that as a no.”
Harvard gazed around. Something else was weird, besides his uncharacteristically cranky roommate. Their room was festooned with piles of flowers and chocolates. Aiden’s bed was covered in roses and ribbons and cake, as if an unscrupulous thief had robbed a wedding and abandoned their loot.
Harvard was used to such displays on Aiden’s birthday and Valentine’s Day, but both were months away.
“Where’d all this come from?” Harvard asked.
“All what?” Aiden made an impatient gesture with his finger, and then glanced around the room. “I don’t know. Some people wandered in with some stuff, I guess? There have been many interruptions during the past hour. Including you.”
The room really did remind Harvard of Valentine’s Day. Every Valentine’s Day, Aiden got such a deluge of cards and gifts that Harvard feared they might drown in candy waterfalls and storms of lace-edged cardboard hearts. Harvard had never received a valentine himself. Except from Aiden when they were little, in a cute, platonic way. But Aiden hadn’t given him one for years.
Harvard wandered uneasily over to his own bed, skirting around the suspicious lumps under the blanket of petals on the floor. His bed was also covered in presents. (Their beds were pushed together, and gifts seemed to have flooded in from Aiden’s side.) He made out several fruit baskets, but he couldn’t see his pillow, and he knew a pineapple wouldn’t be a good substitute. A pineapple pillow did not promise restful slumber.
He poked at the heap, wondering if there was any way he could shift the presents around so he could sleep comfortably tonight. The pile of offerings tilted like the Leaning Tower of Pisa, then a flood of chocolates splashed onto the floor. Harvard let out a squawk.
“Aiden!” said Harvard. “My bed’s a disaster!”
“Great,” murmured Aiden.
Harvard was receiving the impression Aiden wasn’t really listening.
Against his better judgment, Harvard peered at the note affixed to the largest fruit basket. It was a square of white cardboard reading, Heard you might need a new roommate, Aiden! A note on a box of chocolates wrapped with a dusky crimson ribbon read Call me lover roomie.
“Huh,” said Harvard.
He thought again of their first day seeing Kings Row, when he’d asked Aiden to be roommates. Aiden had been talking excitedly about the harvest festival in town. Harvard had looked forward to going with him.
Only he hadn’t. Aiden had gone with a date instead. People said the Kingstone Fair was a guaranteed great date. Harvard had never actually been to the fair.
“Are you… in the market for another roommate?” Harvard asked.
“Don’t bother me with absurd questions,” said Aiden.
Harvard didn’t really think Aiden was. Of course, he’d seen Aiden cast off people with a shrug, as if they didn’t matter, all the time… but Harvard was different.
About twenty guys had sobbed on Harvard’s shoulder saying they’d thought they were different, wailing over Aiden while Harvard patted them on the back. But obviously, that was… not the same.
This was probably just a misunderstanding.
But… if Aiden did want a new roommate, who would Harvard room with? He got along well with everybody and didn’t have anyone specific to ask. Just as he usually didn’t have anyone specific to hang out with while Aiden was busy on his dates.
“Coach made some suggestions to me just now,” Harvard said tentatively. “About the team bonding exercise.”
“Yeah, yeah, go on a picnic, make a graph. Do whatever you like,” snapped Aiden, crunching up another piece of paper. “Leave me alone.”