Seiji couldn’t believe he was being forced to waste even more time on this ill-advised French escapade. Yet someone had to supervise Nicholas’s packing. Nicholas kept getting it wrong.
First of all, Nicholas had tried to pack his clothes in a backpack, which was upsetting. Apparently, Nicholas didn’t own a suitcase, so Seiji got out his spare one and insisted he disliked it and was throwing it out if Nicholas didn’t take it off his hands. Suitcase arranged, Nicholas then attempted to go to France with no pajamas, so Seiji forced him to pack the pajamas he’d given Nicholas on a previous occasion. He couldn’t help noticing that Nicholas didn’t wear them.
“Does everyone wear pajamas in France?” asked Nicholas sadly.
“Yes,” said Seiji.
Everyone rational wore pajamas, in every country. Nicholas was basically feral. Nicholas also seemed to have very odd ideas about France.
“What are the people in France like?” he asked Seiji on the morning they were supposed to leave. Nicholas had a hard time getting up early to practice, like he should, but he would spring out of bed to pack for the twelfth time.
“They’re like people who speak French.”
Seiji didn’t know what else to say. People were confusing and terrible everywhere.
“I need a baguette.” Nicholas fretted.
“They have baguettes in France.”
“Then I need a beret!”
Nicholas cast a searching look around the dormitory. He had started stealing Seiji’s stuff, which Seiji had decided Nicholas was allowed to do, but Seiji didn’t have any berets stashed in his room. Seiji had no berets. Seiji needed no berets.
“We will be spending our time in France fencing,” Seiji reminded Nicholas. “Do you intend to put a beret on top of your mask? Do you think that would be a good look for you?”
A smile dawned on Nicholas’s face. It wasn’t a making-a-joke-about-Seiji-in-his-head smile. Seiji was very familiar with those. It was more a sharing-the-joke-with-Seiji smile. Seiji liked those well enough, though he’d never made an intentional joke in his life.
“Might look dashing,” said Nicholas easily.
Seiji thought it was possible he would enjoy the upcoming trip, if it weren’t for the constant insidious thoughts of Jesse. Last time, going to France had put an ocean between him and Jesse. This time, Seiji was flying toward him. Memories of Seiji’s former life kept intruding.
Seiji had attended many fencing camps, and many international fencing matches, in Jesse’s company. Jesse was used to such trips, as was Seiji. Jesse’s father usually arranged for someone to pack for them, so they could maintain total fencing focus. International travel had never been complete chaos before. Nicholas’s particular and perpetual chaos was new to Seiji, but he was becoming accustomed. He scrutinized the room carefully to see if Nicholas had hidden his pajamas or forgotten his passport. Finding all as it should be at last, he turned to see Nicholas surveying the room with an extremely startled air.
Oh no, Seiji thought. What now? But then Nicholas began to grin.
“Seiji!” said Nicholas, beaming. “Seiji. You took down the shower curtain.”
“Of course I did.”
Seiji wasn’t certain why Nicholas looked so pleased. Then he worked it out.
“Ah, I see you’ve misunderstood completely. I packed the curtain,” Seiji informed him. “We will need it for our room in France.”
Nicholas was undaunted. Nicholas was rarely daunted by anything, which was one of his best qualities. Seiji had been informed he was daunting, but Nicholas never seemed to feel that way.
“You wanna be roommates in France, too?” Nicholas asked brightly. “Can’t bear to be parted from me?”
“I dream of being parted from you!” Seiji shoved Nicholas the way Nicholas had shoved him a couple of days ago, which Nicholas seemed to mean as a friendly gesture. “I simply accept you as an unfortunate fact of life at this point.”
Had Nicholas wanted to share a room with his friend Bobby? Seiji understood if Nicholas would prefer that, but Bobby was almost certainly sharing a room with Dante, the tall one who didn’t like fencing. Unless Bobby had become tired of Dante’s anti-fencing attitude.
“You didn’t have to pack the shower curtain,” said Nicholas, sudden packing expert. “I think they have shower curtains in France.” Nicholas paused. “Do they have shower curtains in France? Seiji! Tell me.”
Seiji checked his favorite watch, which was faintly pink for Nicholas-related reasons but worked fine. “I suppose you’ll have to wait and see.”
Nicholas had absurdly poor timekeeping skills, so Seiji had to shepherd him out of the dormitory and toward the bus that would take them to the airport. At the bottom of the stairs, Nicholas panicked about not having enough socks. He made a break for socks and freedom and had to be marched down the halls, which made them late. Everyone else had arrived before them. Seiji had never been late for anything before and was deeply shamed. The bus was already waiting, idling under the autumn trees. As Seiji climbed aboard, he glanced over his shoulder at the old redbrick buildings against the green lawn and gold leaves. The school that was nothing like the school he’d planned on. The school where, as his father wanted, he could choose his own battles.
It was a slightly silly feeling, since they would be back in four days, but Seiji realized he was sorry to be leaving Kings Row.
This school was a refuge for him against Jesse. Here, he wasn’t just Jesse’s fencing partner, the less shining half of a whole and only there to make Jesse look good.
Seiji wasn’t sure who he would be at Camp Menton.
There was a torrent of greetings on their arrival. Coach Williams commanded them to sit down. Harvard called out, “Hey,” then told them off in a captainly fashion for being late. Eugene fist-bumped Nicholas, and Bobby waved his arms enthusiastically to attract Nicholas’s attention.
“Hi, Seiji,” Bobby added in a very tiny voice, when Nicholas and Seiji grabbed the seats in front of Bobby and Dante.
“Hi,” said Seiji in a voice that was at his normal level.
He’d noticed Bobby was extremely talkative with anyone who wasn’t Seiji. Many people disliked Seiji, but he wished Bobby would hide his dislike better. It made social interactions even more uncomfortable than they had to be.
To cover for the awkwardness, Seiji gazed around the bus, and he spotted Aiden lying stretched out on the back seat, clearly pretending to sleep and thus unavailable for comment. Seiji could tell he was pretending by the tension in Aiden’s frame. It was obvious, like a fencer on the edge of losing his match, feigning that he wasn’t scared.
There was a line of brightness on the horizon, like a slice of lemon dropped into the sky.
As the bus took a turn down a winding lane, the brightness was lost, and so was Seiji’s last sight of Kings Row. They drove toward darkness… and Jesse.