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Beltane, and the Hendersons were off somewhere in the forest, chasing Sean and threatening to do, well, something to him. Whatever that 'something' was, depended mostly on whether the twins were feeling rambunctious (a mere depantsing), or downright dangerous (anything short of murder). It was a holiday, though, so Nick figured it was probably the former.
The girls were off doing, well, girly things. He'd heard Suzan tittering about love spells, and Melanie lecturing her on the ethics of coercion, and Nick hoped very hard that they weren't going to try anything funny on him. He didn't need a repeat of the Homecoming Dance, when Suzan's enchantment and his own instincts had battled so hard he'd developed a migraine that made his vision blur, and Deb had had to walk him home a half-hour into the dance. Since then, Suzan seemed to have learned to keep her spells to outsiders, but there was always the possibility she'd suddenly become brave enough to try again.
In any case, Nick was now left sitting before the remnants of their bonfire with Adam Conant, the "parfit gentil knight," as Melanie called him when he wasn't listening. It was enough to make Nick gag, partially because he knew under all that kindness, there had to be something that wasn't perfect at all, and partially because he knew that Conant was mostly just lucky. Lucky to be dating (in love with) Diana, the temporary coven leader. Lucky to not have the entire school think he was pure evil. Lucky to have somehow turned out better than Nick.
Their pasts were nearly identical. They should have been equals: both from Crowhaven Road, both orphans. Hell, their parents even died on the same day, and their birthdays were a mere two days apart. He and Conant should have been equals but they just... weren't.
Adam was, if he wanted to believe the girls' talk, perfect. Kind, courteous, gorgeous, wonderful; the list went on and on. Nick, on the other hand, was... a reptile. An ice sculpture. Or, as Faye put it, "a grade-A asshole."
It was the same way Conant seemed to have been born to be a witch, suited to all the nature worship and ritual, while the whole thing just made Nick uncomfortable. If he'd been given the chance, he would have given it all up, and the only thing he would have missed would be the ability to will a machine to work.
Nick was pretty sure he hated Conant. Perfect, lucky Adam Conant.
"Not running off with Diana?" Nick asked, and watched Conant's perfect mouth sour. Must have hit on something. Was he not-so-lucky, or not-so-perfect?
"She has girl things to do."
Nick leaned back, resting his elbows on the log behind him, and stared at the few licks of flame that remained. "Seems a shame. Faye and Suzan were going on about fertility rituals all week, and we've segregated ourselves instead," Nick commented. He smiled at Adam, but he thought he might have just been baring his teeth.
Adam shrugged. "It's probably for the best," he said, but he didn't sound like he meant it.
Probably pissed that sweet, virginal Di won't let him fuck her, Nick thought. He was shocked at the pure venom in that, and was tempted to laugh at his own bitterness.
Instead, he just stopped smiling. At least pretend you give a shit, Nick, he could practically hear Deborah in his head, but what did she know anyway? She liked being able to terrorize outsiders. "Things gone sour in Camelot?" Nick asked.
"It's... complicated."
"Try me," Nick challenged, and Conant looked a little desperate around his eyes, didn't he?
Desperate enough to finally ask, voice low and broken, "Nick... Can you keep a secret?"
"Who would I tell?" Nick replied breezily. In the pit of his stomach he felt like Faye and her damned cats, ready to pounce at the first sight of weakness.
Adam frowned. "I'm serious. Not even Deb."
Nick felt suddenly less like a predator and more like Shit. This is really serious. "Yeah, I'm cool," he answered, and moved in closer.
Adam sighed like he didn't know how to begin. "It's, er. Di."
"So you aren't fucking around?" The question slipped out of Nick's mouth before he could catch it. He felt horrible (wonderful) when he saw the look on Conant's face.
"Why would I do something like that?"
"I don't know. Why would you?"
Adam stared straight ahead, into the flicker of the dying fire, and Nick fished a cigarette and lighter out of his jacket pocket. Adam didn't even acknowledge that Nick was still sitting beside him when he said it, just continued looking straight ahead, and said, "She likes girls, Nick."
And that was... Nick tried to think of what that was, and all he could come up with was Conant's luck catching up with him at last, which wasn't very nice. His mouth had suddenly gone dry, so he licked at his lips. "Girls?" he asked, to make sure he'd heard right.
"She's a lesbian. She told me a few days ago," Adam elaborated.
"Um. Hell, Conant," Nick said, at a loss.
"Yeah," Adam agreed.
"So, are you guys... over, then?" Nick asked, wondering how the rest of the coven would take the news.
"It told you, it's complicated."
Nick took a drag off his cigarette as he thought of something to say. Exhale. All he'd come up with was, "So, explain it."
"I love her. She loves me." Adam looked over to assess the look on Nick's face. "It's just... she just.."
"Is having trouble with your dick," Nick suggested.
Adam smiled in a way that looked like it hurt. "Not exactly how I would have said it, but..." He trailed off.
"So, what? You're going to live together in loving purity until the end of time? That's not fair to either of you," Nick said. Took another drag, and amended his statement with, "Then again, I'm probably the last person who should be giving you relationship advice."
Adam's smile was real this time. "That's Sean. You manage to attract a brave soul now and then."
It was Nick's turn to smile in a way that made his stomach twist. "Who? Suzan?"
"So you haven't noticed them? You definitely have your fans among the outsiders. They're just-"
"Scared shitless," Nick cut in.
"I was going to say 'intimidated.' You're not the most approachable guy, Nick."
Nick shrugged. "That's kind of the point."
The both turned back to look at the fire instead of at each other. Conant's perfect brow furrowed, and the fire surged back to something that actually emitted a bit of light.
He looked a bit sheepish when Nick arched an eyebrow at him. "It was getting dark."
Nick took another drag. Exhale. "So... You and Diana? Endless chaste love?" he prompted.
"So it seems. At least till we're done with high school, we think. I mean, we're young. Maybe..." Adam sighed and made a gesture with his right hand as though it would explain everything. "Until we're not in love anymore, I guess."
"There isn't anyone else?" Nick asked, and Adam was already shaking his head. "So how'd she figure it out?"
"Figure what out?"
"That she liked girls," Nick answered.
"The same way you know you're straight, Nick."
"But you can't ever be sure until-"
Which was when Conant kissed him. Nick got the general idea that he was trying to prove a point with his tongue. The point Conant was proving was probably not the point he was trying to prove. Nick dropped his cigarette.
"That was," Nick began, a few moments after Conant pulled back, "not very helpful in assuring me." He stepped on the remainder of his cigarette, grinding it into the dirt with the ball of his foot.
"Oh," Conant said.
Nick stood up. "Go find your dyke girlfriend," he said.
Adam looked a little like the comment had wounded him dearly, and Nick had to turn and start walking back to his car.
The problem with Conant, Nick amended, wasn't that he was lucky, or that everybody thought he was perfect. No, the problem with Conant, the thing that made Nick hate him sometimes, was that there was just one thing about him that kept him from being as perfect as everybody said he was.