Fever Pitch (5 page)

Aaron did. He told Walter all about Giles, about how they'd met because Aaron was hiding and Giles was running from someone who wanted to beat him up. He told Walter about Giles offering to get something to eat when he found out Aaron hadn't had dinner, how he'd paid since it had been Aaron's birthday, how he'd taken him to Hickey Lake—Walter laughed, but mostly he kept smiling. With his ears red to their tips, Aaron confessed how they'd had sex, how it had felt being with Giles. “He made me feel good. Bought me dinner, took care of me.”

“He didn't give you his number though?”

Aaron grimaced. “I didn't really give him a chance. I was leaving the next day, and he had no idea I would choose to go to his same school.” The question he ached to ask poured out of him. “Was that incredibly stupid? Have I fucked up my entire life because a guy smiled at me and blew me by the lake on my birthday?”

Walter had a funny look on his face, nostalgia and empathy and…something else. “I think it's a hard call. Play it easy when you get there. Don't beat yourself up if it turns out to be a bad gamble, but don't write anything off too fast either. Most importantly, though…” he pulled a business card out of his jacket pocket and slid it across the table, “…stay in touch with me.”

When Giles arrived at Saint Timothy College, he half-considered kissing the lawn in front of his dorm.

Summer in Oak Grove had been hot, boring and interminable. He reread every novel he owned, played so much Xbox he thought his brains might leak out of his ears, and practiced violin and sometimes even piano, he was so bored. Basically, he marked time until his life could begin.

He deliberately didn't think about his midsummer adventure at Hickey Lake.

The one highlight had been his frequent IM chats with Brian, his roommate-to-be. At first they'd talked about pretty boring stuff, like who was bringing what, but when Giles mentioned his gaming system, this had unleashed the kraken. Brian was a major gamer. He played more first-person shooter while Giles preferred strategy, but their Switzerland was Minecraft. They met all August via Xbox Live to kill Creepers and harass Endermen, and haunted the same online servers. They'd already hatched a plan to bring in takeout from Noodles & Company and spend the first night of college in introducing each other to their favorite games. Giles couldn't wait.

Best part? Brian was straight, knew Giles wasn't and didn't give two shits.

Brian was as cool in person as online. When Giles and his family came up with their first set of boxes, Brian greeted Giles with a warm smile and a man hug.

“I can't believe we're finally here.” Brian put his hands on the back of his head and grinned up at the canopy of trees above them as they crossed campus to go to orientation. “I hope it doesn't turn out to be as dumb as high school. My older brother says it isn't, that the stupid popular kids don't have the same kind of foothold here.” He lowered his hands and glanced at Giles. “When is your orchestra tryout?”

“At five. I have to head over there after orientation, actually. Which, shit, I should have brought my violin with me.”

Brian waved this worry away. “I'll bring it to you on my way to the parking lot to go get our dinner. Of course I think it might be faster for me to walk to the store, and I'm not kidding. Did you see how far away M lot is?”

Giles snorted. “Try P lot. I'm west and half a mile from M.”

They split up as they stood in line to check in at the student union, meeting up in the back to find a seat in the packed room.

Brian shook his head. “Look at all these people. And this is just freshmen.”

“Mina's in here somewhere—my friend from home. I was supposed to find her, but I have no idea how.”

“Text?”

Giles pulled out his phone and grimaced. “God, there's no LTE. I don't have a signal at all. And no Wi-Fi. What the hell?”

“Try the hallway. Maybe they have the walls lined with lead or something. I see three seats up ahead—I'll snag them for us, okay?”

After watching where Brian pointed, Giles slipped into the main hallway, where he still didn't have much signal but did have enough service to send a text.

The crowd pouring into the ballroom didn't look like a high school crowd. There was a lot less diversity of class—more people of color, but also a distinct evening out of social strata which, honestly, felt a bit weird, as if Giles had entered a gated community. The lack of cliques was visible and almost jarring—people herded up, but not much and not often.

A cute twink across the room cruised Giles with a stealth intensity he found intriguing. The guy was so slight a wind would take him away, and he wasn't exactly cute, all severe hair and pale skin. There was something about the way his eyes bored into Giles, though, writing all kinds of checks and inviting Giles to cash them. Before Giles could engage, the twink's mother turned around to face her son, and the guy shut down so fast Giles blinked.

Ah. Not out to Mom and Dad.
Find you later,
Giles promised him with a wink.

He'd just had his first college flirt, and nobody was going to jump him for it or call him fag. Nobody thought he was a man-whore or a saint—or anything. No one here knew who Giles was.

A dark head moved in the crowd, and when Giles caught a glimpse of the face, he paused.

God, but that looked like…

Without meaning to, he followed the guy through the crush. When he caught another glimpse, his world tilted sideways.

No. Way.

Giles had to have imagined what he'd thought he'd seen, because there was no way… Not
him
. Not
here
. But when the crowd parted, he got a clear line of sight, and he swayed on his feet.

Aaron Seavers.

Mina forgotten, Giles fought his way through the crowd. He kept telling himself he had to be wrong, but he
remembered
that face. He remembered that face screwed up in ecstasy, in fact.

Remembered it shuttering and turning away.

How could Aaron be here?
Why
would Aaron be here?

In his pocket, his phone buzzed, and Giles stopped his pursuit long enough to peek at the incoming text from Mina.
Where r u?

Giles thumbed a reply before resuming his chase across the foyer. He could still see Aaron's dark head in the crush. He had no idea what he was going to do if he caught up with Aaron, but he had to follow. He felt off-kilter and slightly underwater.

The dark head shifted. Aaron Seavers stared back at Giles.

It was as if Oak Grove had tossed out some kind of grappling hook, and with that one glance from Aaron, the barbs found their way back in. There it was, the old, familiar gaze. The one that said,
We've made out, and now I'm freaked.
The glance that always,
always
came before the name-calling and terrorizing, the demonizing of Giles, the Great Tempter. The look that should have stayed behind in Oak Grove yet managed to follow him here.

Giles could see his future unfolding—Aaron telling his friends about Giles, turning them on him, roping them into their taunts and games. A-Hell all over again.

Mina was right after all, high school and college would be the same. No escape, no way out.

No. No fucking way.

Giles glared at Aaron, giving no quarter.

This is my school. This is my escape, and you aren't ruining it. Go back to your closet and hide, fucker, because I have no more patience for shame-and-blames.

With everything he had in him, Giles telegraphed his fury and indignation—and weirdly, for half a second he thought Aaron seemed hurt. Then that pretty face shuttered back to the mask Giles had known so well in high school. Aaron turned away.

Giles hunted for Mina, but he couldn't push Aaron out of his thoughts. The guy was an infection in his mind, erasing Giles's beautiful bubble of possibility and reminding him the world, by and large, sucked. When Mina found him, she frowned.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing.” Giles forced a smile. “We're at college. New leaf. New start. Nothing's going to hold me back.” He nodded at Brian, who waved at them. “Let's go get our seats.”

Nothing's going to hold me back,
he repeated to himself as he settled into his seat, his gaze falling on Aaron a few rows over.
Nothing and nobody. No matter what.

C
hapter Five

A
aron really hoped nobody said anything important in orientation because he didn't hear a single word of it.

It hurt so much to have Giles reject him. They'd only made out the once—and as Walter kept saying, this was a gamble. It did hurt, though, so much Aaron couldn't breathe, and he didn't know how to make the pain stop. When orientation dismissed to smaller groups for their tours of campus, Aaron went to the restroom and curled up on the seat inside a stall for several minutes, blaring “No Light, No Light” through his headphones until he could breathe again.

By the time he emerged, all the orientation groups were gone. While part of him was relieved, it meant he had no idea what to do with himself. He could go to his room, but odds were good Elijah would be there now. Aaron wasn't in the mood for any more bad encounters. He could go somewhere and eat, but he wasn't hungry. Getting drunk sounded
fantastic
, but he had no way to get alcohol.

In the end he wandered aimlessly around campus, giving himself a tour that largely involved watching for Giles so he wouldn't run into him. As he passed the activity-fair booths, an eager, overweight young man with a crazed look in his eye tried to give Aaron a cross-splattered flyer for Campus Crusaders. Aaron murmured a decline and glommed on to a group heading with purpose out of the fair. Putting his headphones on, Aaron followed the herd and let his music drown out the world.

At some point his group wandered into the music department. Realizing he might encounter Giles here, Aaron thought about leaving, but the hallways were crammed tight. Following this tour would be easier than fighting the clog at the entrance. When their slow forward shuffle came to a full stop, Aaron loitered against the wall, arms folded.

A girl next to him glanced down at papers in her hand when she wasn't looking around the hallway. As Aaron watched, her gaze switched to a set of double doors ahead of them. She pulled out a cell phone. After a series of furious texts, she stood rigid a second, then started to shake. When tears rolled down her cheeks, Aaron couldn't stop himself.

Taking off his headphones, he touched her arm. “Are you okay?”

She wiped at her eyes. “My accompanist can't make it. Her daughter got sick. I'm going to blow my audition. I'm not going to make it into choir.”

Choir? Aaron took another glance at the papers in her hands, crinkled by her stress—sheet music. He regarded the now
seriously
thick crush of people with new eyes. “Is that what this is? The line for auditions?”

The girl nodded, still wiping her eyes. She couldn't stop crying. “For the Saint Timothy Chorale. For guys it's not much of a contest. All you have to do is show up and prove you can stay on key. For girls it's brutal. Half of us will have to go into the Women's Chorus, which is a total ghetto. Not like the Ambassadors at all.”

“Ambassadors?”

“The men's a cappella group.” The girl eyed Aaron suspiciously. “Why are you here if you're not auditioning?”

Aaron was not going to admit what a fuckup he was. He indicated her sheet music. “Can I see that?” When she handed it over, he flipped through it and smiled. “Hey, this isn't hard at all. If you want, I could play for you.”

He thought for an awkward moment she was going to kiss him. “Are you serious?”

“I warn you, I'll probably stumble a bit. But I figure this is about you, and I'm good enough to fake it.” He grimaced at the door. “I wish I'd thought to sign up myself.”

“Oh, you don't sign up. You stand in this line with your music.” Her expression turned melty. “You're amazing. I totally owe you for doing this.” She let go of his arm and held out her hand. “I'm Jill Ottosen. But you can call me Jilly.”

“Aaron Seavers.” Aaron wasn't comfortable with the overly friendly look in her eye. He was
not
dating a girl again.

“So you're going to audition too, right?”

He wished. “I don't have any music.”

“Use mine. Though maybe that's too tricky, playing and singing?”

“Oh no, not at all.” Aaron considered his performance options. “Does it matter what I play? I have some stuff memorized, but it's pop.”

“Don't worry about that. Like I said, if you're a guy who can hit the notes, you're in. It's a lot more difficult to get into the Ambassadors, but that's only sixteen guys and mostly upperclassmen anyway.” She bounced a little. “I can't believe I stumbled into an accompanist in line for auditions. I hope we're both in chorale together.” Rocking on her heels, she glanced ahead at the line. “I'm starving. I should have grabbed dinner first.” She smiled apologetically. “Sorry, I'm a total spaz when I'm nervous. I can't stop talking.”

Jilly was cute and sweet. It occurred to Aaron how convenient it would be if he found her attractive, because he could ask her to dinner after the audition, and they might even end up dating. Aaron knew that route wasn't for him, though. He wasn't sure he was ready to be out, but he wasn't lying anymore.

“How was your orientation tour?” she asked.

“I didn't go,” Aaron confessed.

“Wish I'd skipped. Totally worthless. What about your roommate?”

“I haven't met him.” Realizing their conversation was almost one-sided, he forced himself into a more active role. “What about yours?”

Jilly shrugged. “She's nice enough. A little fussy, but I'm hoping that's just nerves. She's from some small town up north.”

Aaron asked where Jilly was from—Mankato—and they spent the rest of their wait chatting easily about their pasts. Jilly's parents were divorced as well, but she had three younger siblings. Aaron asked about them, and that opened a floodgate that lasted until they were standing in front of the double doors, waiting their chance to go in. As soon as she was about to perform, however, Jilly's panic returned in full force.

“I'm going to suck.”

“You'll be fine. Hey—it's only an audition. And if it helps, I'll be there the whole time.”

She nodded, but she still looked pretty wrecked. “I really want this.”

“Then go get it. Being nervous isn't going to help.” He remembered his horrible encounter with Giles, and his stomach plummeted. He repeated to her what Walter had said to him. “Maybe it's meant to be, and maybe it isn't, but you need to try. Go in there and be fabulous, whatever the outcome.”

Before she could reply, the doors opened, and an upperclassman ushered them in.

The room was smaller than Aaron had thought it would be. Most of the space was tiered riser seating full of black chairs, though only a few of them were occupied. A mustachioed man sat in a chair in the middle, flanked by two young women and three men. One guy had a slight geek-cool thing going, another was fresh off the cover of J.Crew, and the third was all angles and styled hair—and a pair of dark sunglasses. They were all cute, an assorted-chocolates box of young men.

The mustachioed man had to be the conductor—he was older and had a sense of ownership about the room. When he spied Aaron and Jilly, though, he was a welcoming king, rising and shaking both their hands.

“So good to have you here.” He asked for their names and where they were from and what kind of history they had with choir, and as Aaron and Jilly answered, the men and women behind him took notes.

The geek-cool guy spoke up. “Dr. Nussenbaum, are they both auditioning?”

“Yes,” Jilly said before Aaron could answer. “Aaron is accompanying for me, but he has something to perform too.”

“Fantastic.” Dr. Nussenbaum beamed at Aaron. “Were you in the choir in high school?”

“Before we moved, yeah.” Aaron tried not to fidget, but Nussenbaum was a laser beam, and he had so much energy he made Aaron jittery. “I was in a band too, but that never got anywhere.”

“You play piano, you sing and you were in a band—do you play any other instruments?”

“Keyboard, piano and a little bit of bass guitar, but not well.”

“Excellent. Are either of you music majors?”

“I'm music education,” Jilly volunteered.

“I don't really know yet,” Aaron confessed.

“Everyone is welcome in choir.” Nussenbaum rubbed his hands together. “All right. Shall we get started? Jillian first?”

Jilly's song was a stodgy piece that reminded Aaron of things people took to all-state competitions. He'd accompanied for those before he'd moved, and he found he missed this, playing for someone. He enjoyed filling in their spaces, being their ground floor. Jilly was good too—no Adele, but better than average. Aaron hoped she made it in.

When her audition was over, Jilly took a seat. The room focused on Aaron.

He cleared his throat and scooted back on the bench. “I was going to do a pop song, if that's okay.”

Dr. Nussenbaum's smile didn't waver. “That's fine.”

“What song?” This question came from J.Crew guy, and Aaron had to swallow before answering. The man had a deep, bell-like voice that did wicked things to Aaron's insides.

“I know two pretty well. ‘Lover to Lover' by Florence + the Machine and ‘Somewhere Only We Know' by Keane.”

The guy's eyebrows went up, but he smiled. “I'd love to hear the Keane.” He motioned to the piano. “Whenever you're ready.”

It only took a few bars of piano before Aaron's nerves bled away. When he'd played this with the band, it was a different kind of accompaniment, but he'd taken to playing it in his room, filling in the missing instruments by ear with his voice piped in via a mic. It had been his therapy after the whole Tanner incident, until he'd stopped playing entirely once they moved. He threw himself into the song now, maybe belting a bit too much in the chorus. It felt so good to sing again. He hoped Jilly was right about the guys' auditions, because while he sang, for the first time since he'd arrived, being at Saint Timothy felt okay.

When he finished, he lowered his hands from the piano and faced his audience.

They were staring at him.

Aaron froze, uneasy, thinking he must have really sucked. He was trying to work out an apology when the guy with the sunglasses spoke. “Thank you, Aaron. Were you planning to audition for the Ambassadors as well?”

Aaron's cheeks heated. “Do you want me to sing the Florence song, or does it need to be something fancier?”

“Your performance just now is more than enough,” the sunglasses guy said. Every word dripped with innuendo. The deep-voiced guy had been pleasant, but
this
guy, Aaron was pretty sure, cruised him. “If you're interested in the Ambassadors, we'd love to have you.”

They would? Aaron shifted nervously on his seat. “Okay. Thanks.”

“Thank
you
.” This came from Nussenbaum, who sat on the edge of his seat, regarding Aaron like a tiger eyeing prey. “You haven't declared a major? Is anything in music on the table for you?”

God, his dad would
flip out
. “I hadn't thought much about anything, to be honest.”

“Stop by during my office tomorrow, and we'll talk.” Nussenbaum eased back in his chair, as if everything were settled.

“We need to keep the auditions moving,” a girl beside Nussenbaum said.

J.Crew guy rose, leading Jilly and Aaron to a door on the other side of the room. “You were great. Both of you.”

“Thanks.” Jilly touched her hair. “I hope I see you in choir.”

He winked at her. “Pretty sure you both will.” After waving at them both, he disappeared into the room.

Jilly and Aaron stared at the closed door a moment.

“God, he's seriously cute,” Jilly said at last.

“Yeah,” Aaron agreed without thinking. When he realized what he'd confessed, he went rigid.

Jilly simply smiled, almost easing a little if anything. Then she held out her arm. “Come on. It's time for a celebration dinner.”

Letting out the breath he'd been holding, Aaron took her arm, and Jilly led him away.

Giles didn't see Aaron again after the glimpse in the hallway outside of orientation, but he watched for him constantly. As they left orchestra tryouts, Mina asked him what was wrong.

“For someone who killed it at his orchestra audition, you don't look happy.” She nudged him with her elbow. “You keep glancing around like you're waiting for the boogeyman. What's going on?”

“I saw someone I didn't expect to be here. It's no big deal.” A lie, but he was working on making it truth.

“Who did you see?”

“Someone from Oak Grove.”

Mina nudged him harder. “
Who?
”

He started to deflect as usual, but apparently college
was
different, because instead of hemming and hawing, Giles told the truth. “Aaron Seavers.”

“
Get out.
I had no idea he was coming here.” She paused as she put two and two together. “Wait. Why is Aaron Seavers at Timothy upsetting to you?”

Apparently once unmuzzled, Giles was a babbling brook. “Because he got drunk and came on to me at Catherine's party. We made out, and now he's weird. And here.”

Mina stopped walking, mouth hanging open.

Tucking his violin to his side, Giles faced her. Every secret he'd kept since seventh grade threatened to come pouring out of him. He did his best to control the flow. “Aaron and I fucked. Half the guys you've crushed on, I've fucked, in fact, or sucked off. After, they go strange, and I end up dodging threats. Now Aaron is one of them, and I'm so pissed I can't see straight.”

Mina staggered back a few steps. “Giles?”

He should stop talking, but he couldn't. “This is why I never wanted to go to parties. This is why I hated A-H, why I wanted out. It was
supposed to be different here
, and now it's the same.” He fisted his hand in his hair. “
Goddamn it.
Why did he come here? He said he hadn't picked a college. I
told
him I was going here.
I don't get it.
”