AT first glance, the boys' dorm at Columbus didn't seem far from ordinary. Perhaps the mediocrity was necessary to mask the parts that were even less dignified. If you looked close enough, you could see the parts they tried to hide. Literally, too.
You could see the loose floorboard under the last bunk where they hid the packets of cigarettes. You could see the empty pillowcases which held the bottles of liquor that ran Joshua Larke's 'black market' trade at Columbus. You could see the scratches on the doorknob from the times the boys had picked the lock to sneak out of the dorms. The magazines tucked under Reynold's mattress, which if discovered would undoubtedly send him to reformatory school.
Figurately, they hid more. Much more. Most of which they would never uncover. Harvey Wright knew he could never uncover most parts of himself, even if this meant hiding who he loved. This was tougher to conceal every time he looked at Isaac Murphy.
Goddamn, Isaac.
If only he could take back the number of hours he spent in the library, hidden behind a book, only because Isaac would be just two tables away, buried under his piles of homework. Heck, that was the only reason Harvey got any work done himself, seeing as he was practically living in the library because of Isaac.
He was his intoxication even in hours of bone dry sobriety. And it was tantalizingly fatal.
Fatal enough that Harvey found himself tongue-tied when Isaac walked past him in the dorm and whispered a 'hi'. Seriously, if Isaac sprung random greetings at him more during the day, all of Columbus' teachers would have a lot less to complain about.
"Hey," Harvey breathed back. "You're up early."
"No, Wright," Isaac fixed his tie. "You're just not tragically late."
Harvey threw him an impassive look, to which he didn't respond. Isaac raised an eyebrow and Harvey followed his gaze.
"What part of my shoe is troubling you?"
"Did you lose a sock or did one go in the wash with everyone's dress trousers? At once."
Harvey sighed at his socks. One white and the other black.
"Oh, never mind," he stood up and fastened the top button of his school shirt. "Callaghan couldn't tell his two thumbs apart if his life depended on it, I doubt he'll fret over mismatched socks."
"Does anything affect you?" Isaac shot him a side-eyed look.
"You'd be surprised," Harvey said, fixing his collar for the third time.
Isaac found himself smiling because the collar was still askew. It was probably in his best interest that he never noticed the shadow of something else in Harvey's tone.
x
THE last thing Isaac needed after a whole day's drudgery was an hour wasted in the school grounds. He'd much rather be in the library, but if he said that out loud, Harvey would never let him hear the end of it. And so here they were, sprawled on one of the few rare patches of grass on the school grounds, in the midst of bustling students that were making their way to classes or back to the main quarters.
"How much longer are we going to be here?" Nathan frowned.
"Till Erik's finished staring at those girls from Asheville," Harvey rolled his eyes. It happened every Friday. The girls from Asheville would come down to the city, and Erik would invariably be on the grounds every Friday evening. They stood outside the gates, shivering in white shirts and red coats, stealing glances at the Columbus students.
