Page 95 of The Alchemists

“Dad!” Reg pushed a tumbler of Scotch into his hand and forcibly clinked glasses.

“You’re still on Oxford, then?” his father said, at his elbow.

One of the things Seb hated most about himself was that when he looked in a mirror, he saw how easy it would be for him to become his father.

“I’m trying to keep all my options on the table.”

“I think that’s smart,” Priya said, attempting a rescue.

“You could do so much more, Sebastian.” His mother entered the room, her dark hair pulled back in a sleek chignon, her willowy frame clad in a cream sheath dress. She floated over to Seb on a cloud of honeysuckle and embraced him lightly, kissing him on the cheek without touching her lips to his skin. “I’d love to see you on the professional circuit for at least a few years.”

Reg scoffed. “Yes, well, dear Sebby always has to make things as difficult as possible.” He enunciated “difficult” very clearly. It dripped with meaning. Everyone smiled through it.

Several times during dinner, Seb considered leaving the table so that he could get in his car and wrap it around the nearest tree. There was a very likely candidate in a massive beech that shaded the near pasture; he could destroy a few paddock fences on his way out as an added bonus.

He knew dinner was going to be an insufferable agony, but he hadn’t realized just how much of a buffer Conrad had always provided between him and his family. His parents, his mother especially, loved Conrad. Their delight in his presence always outweighed their disappointment in Seb. To his parents, Conrad was a beacon, the one who would lead Seb into the light.

Conrad was beloved of mothers everywhere. Seb was tolerated by mothers everywhere, his own included. Seb was too honest to make people comfortable. Conrad was excellent at smoothing over the rough edges of the truth to make sure everyone’s dinner was a pleasant trip, free of turbulence. Conrad had straight teeth and straight taste (as far as anyone knew). Conrad did not have any friends who had secretly applied for art school. Conrad did not have any friends who used to be boys and were now girls.

It was then that Seb realized, well and truly, how idiotic, how naïve he’d been. How right Conrad had been, and how wrong he was. Seb had thought at the time that their love—or whatever it had been—would be enough. He’d thought they could weather any storm; that they could walk away from the trust funds and inheritance, their families, their friends. That love would be worth it.

He saw now, with brutal clarity, that it would never have worked. Even if they’d tried, they would have cracked apart under the stress. There was no reality in which he and Conrad could have come out and survived. Maybe two other, better people could have, but not them. The revelation sat very uneasily in his stomach next to the foie gras.

And, right on schedule: “Why couldn’t Connie come this year, Sebastian? His presence is always such a joy,” his mother lamented into her dinner.

“He has big break plans. I think they’re leaving tomorrow for the Rockies.”

“You’re not going at all?” Reg asked, still swallowing his food. “All that pow. First tracks, baby brother.”

Reg had never once gotten up early enough for first tracks. Seb hated skiing. He hated being cold and wet and waiting in endless lift lines, and après-ski, and having two giant boards strapped to his feet, which were supposed to make moving easier but instead made it much, much harder.

“I have too much schoolwork. Chant assigned us a huge lab for alchemy, and I need to get it started.”

His father shook his head. “These new professors. They never learn.”

“Professor Chant is fantastic. He’s writing my recommendation for Oxford.”

“So he’s the one who put this idea in your head?”

“No, actually,” Seb said, unable to keep the edge out of his voice. “I came up with this one all on my own.”

“There’s always time to change your mind, darling.” His mother sighed. “I know Conrad is already fixed up at the family firm. Your father would love to have you.”

“I’m not interested in finance.”

“You mean you’re too good for finance.” Reg stuck his nose up and rolled his eyes.

“Just consider it, Sebastian. You said you were considering all the options.”

Seb’s mind slid out of his body and back to the tower room of the Windermere library.

It was going to be a very long week.

LILY

“I’m parking; en route to the library now.”

Lily jumped up, craning to see if she could spot him, but the storm was in full swing. Snow spiraled down in wet, clumping flakes, bruising the sky into early dusk. She stuffed her feet into her boots, not bothering with the laces, and clomped down the stairs, winding her scarf around her neck, her footsteps echoing. The sole librarian on duty glanced up briefly as Lily stomped by.