The Man I Love (The Fish Tales, #1)(28)
The Alpha Male
James Dow came to Lancaster the fall of Erik’s junior year.
Erik heard about him first through Daisy, who spoke of a talented transfer from Juilliard who was wowing the tights off the conservatory. “Marie’s having him partner me a lot,” she said. “I think he’s being groomed as the heir apparent.” She still danced with Will, but Will was a senior now, and clearly Marie was keeping a shrewd eye on the future.
“Is he any good?” Erik asked.
“He’s a good dancer,” Daisy said. “But he’s kind of erratic. Good days are phenomenal, bad days are horrendous and it’s either one or the other. No middle ground.”
“Perfect or useless.”
“Right, which makes it hard to partner with him. He’s strong, his timing is good. But he’s not consistent.”
“He’s not Will,” Erik said.
“Nobody is going to be Will. But I can’t ignore he’s graduating. That would be stupid.”
“And no stupid girls are in ballet.” It was something Daisy’s old ballet teacher used to say, and one of Daisy’s personal credos.
“James isn’t stupid,” she said. “He’s got a phenomenal memory. He’s just unpredictable. And I have to think so much when we dance together, which is exhausting.”
Erik followed the gossip with interest, wondering if a rivalry would erupt between the newcomer and Will. They sounded intensely competitive in the studio. But then Will started bringing James around to hang socially and Erik’s interest quickly morphed into concern. While James was a dynamic and likeable guy, something about the new friendship seemed odd to Erik. Troubling in a way he couldn’t quite articulate.
James Dow came from a small town outside Pittsburgh. His face had a dark, devilish handsomeness punctuated by stormy grey eyes. He was twenty-one but already losing his hair. “I got crap genes. None of the men in my family can keep a head of hair to save their lives.” He gave in gracefully by sporting an eighth-inch buzz cut and a slick goatee. Gold hoops hung from both his ears. These, the beard and his olive skin gave him the look of a pirate, Erik thought. Or a conquistador. “You look like Vasco da Gama,” he said.
“You, you look like freakin’ Adonis,” James said. He turned to Will. “How do you concentrate with this guy around?”
“With great difficulty,” Will said.
“Jesus, with a face like his I could’ve conquered half of Greenwich Village. Must be a *-market around your place. What, does he just stand in bars and take numbers?”
“Fishy, fishy in the brook,” David said, “doesn’t have a little black book.”
“He’s Bianco’s boy,” Will said.
“Oh.” James gave Erik an appraising look.
“He could be the Olympic champ of getting laid,” Will said. “But where is he on Saturday night? Pushing up daisies.”
“Can you blame him?” David asked.
“I’m standing right here, guys,” Erik said.
“We know,” Will said.
James shushed him. “Don’t speak, Fish. Just stand there and look cute and let us talk about you, okay?” His tone and cadence were an uncanny mimicry of Will. He even captured the little French-Canadian inflection on “okay,” drawing the word tight up against the roof of his mouth. Erik was puzzled by the tactic. Trying to emulate Will was one thing—imitation, sincere flattery and so forth—but James seemed to be taking it to extreme levels. Making himself into a Kaeger Klone. It made Erik feel strangely defensive.
Maintaining a healthy social life did require some effort on Erik’s part. Given his way, he would only be with Daisy. He was happiest with her. But he pragmatically sensed this wasn’t a healthy way to go through college, and so when the boys went out, he went along. His circle of friends within the conservatory was diverse and casual. Then he had a smaller exclusive circle with David, with whom he spent most his time, and Will, with whom he shared most his thoughts.
Against the fixed constant of Daisy, Erik found it odd he had ended up with two wild cards like Will and David as mates. Odd because a third of the time he couldn’t even stand David. Erik’s friendship with Will, on the other hand, had only strengthened over the past two years.
He often wondered if he and Will would have been as close, had they not been involved with Daisy and Lucky. Erik didn’t think the bond was born solely out of the convenience of two roommates banging two roommates, but he wasn’t positive Will’s company was something he would have sought out on his own. Despite the strong affinity, they were nothing alike.
“You can’t pick human connection apart, honey,” Daisy said. “Sometimes the affinity just exists without a reason. Or in spite of the reasons not to exist.”
Erik shrugged, not entirely convinced.
“Anyway, I think you’re a lot alike,” Daisy said. “You and Will seek out the same things in life, you just use different tactics. Will tries everything until he arrives at what he wants. Process of elimination. You get what you want all worked out in your head first, then you make a plan to go get it. But at the end of the day, what you’re both after is essentially the same thing.”
“Which is?”