Page 120 of You + Me – Against the World

“It’s some kind of trap, then…” Feeling uncomfortable, maybe even a little scared, I force a smile.

“I promise you, at the time, it seemed like a good idea. You can leave, you know. I’d understand.”

I think Caleb has finally realized just how problematic this situation is. He gives me an embarrassed smile, then starts pushing his glasses up his nose, over and over, like a nervous tic. I need to tell him that the plan he cooked up with his father is neither touching nor merely clumsy—and definitely not normal.

“I know you didn’t mean any harm, but you can’t do that, Cal. Lying and trapping someone in the hope that it turns into a date. Especially when you’re a guy dealing with a girl. We’re already prey, all the time: on the street, at college, at parties, on the beach, at night, when we go for a run, on social media, and in front of a camera. We have to be careful all the time, do you understand? Ask the women around you… your mom, your cousins, your exes. We’ve all experienced it at some point. So, think about what it means if, on top of that, we have to be wary of our own friends. You guys, the ones who aren’t complete jerks, are supposed to be our allies.”

“You’re right, Alma, I’m a real asshole. I think I got everything mixed up. I’ve always been considered weird—people tell me that all the time. But you looked at me differently. You got to know me without judging me. From the beginning, I’ve liked the way you accepted me as I am. And I like the way you understand what I try to say. I don’t know… It felt good, and… I thought I had a chance.”

“I see. You could have just told me that, Caleb.”

“I know… And it would have saved me from losing my dignity. Like I am right now.”

“It’s true that this isn’t your finest moment,” I say with a wry smile, aiming to wrap things up.

“So, if you don’t mind, I’m going to apologize and show you to the door. That will save both of us the agony of letting this painfully awkward moment drag on. And yes, alright, no need to insist, I’ll say hi to my dad for you! No need to pet Hitch on your way out, either. See ya, Alma!”

It’s 6:20 p.m. when I find myself back on the street, stunned by the surreal scene I just left, but satisfied that I was heard—for the most part, I think. And it’s not too late for me to meet up with Vadim and Roman, who should be at the Sunset Café by now.

***

When I approach their table ten minutes later, the conversation is in full swing, and the two brothers don’t even see me coming. While the younger one is still wearing his politely distant, almost wary look, Vadim is speaking passionately, his hand running constantly through his hair. I only catch the end of what he’s saying.

“…no memory? How they died? You have no idea what happened to them?”

“Hey, bro!” I greet him the way the local kids do, thinking I’m being amusingly ironic.

And missing the mark completely, given the look they both give me.

“Ah, Roman, you remember Alma, don’t you?” Vadim jumps in to help me out, a teasing smile on his lips.

“Yes, hi!” The younger of the two stands up and shakes my hand in a serious manner, as if he were fifty years old.

Hello again, culture shock…

“So, you were talking about the past, about your childhood? I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Yes, Vadim was telling me a little bit… But I was only a year old. I don’t remember anything,” Roman explains apologetically. “To be honest, I don’t really feel like I had another life before I was adopted.”

“But there is so much you don’t know.”

Feeling Vadim tense up, I place a hand on his back, and he practically jumps at my touch.

He turns slowly toward me. “Alma, please, would you mind leaving us alone? I need to talk to him one-on-one. It’s important.”

Vadim fixes me with his piercing gaze, his eyes so intense they seem to turn dark gray. When he gives me that look, I know it’s serious, that there’s no point arguing. What I don’t know is what he could possibly have to tell his brother, why the secret surrounding his parents’ death still hurts so much, and finally, why he has suddenly decided to reveal it to this brother he barely knows when he has always refused to talk about it with me. I leave the two Arcadis alone, hoping that Roman will know how to listen to his older brother, who needs this so much. And hoping Vadim will finally open up to me during our trip to Santa Catalina.

By 6:40 p.m., both of my plans for the evening have officially fallen through. Kind of early for a Friday night that promised to be so busy. At least I’ll have plenty of time to pack my suitcase. And maybe bug Lily. Isn’t that what little sisters are for?

41

The next morning, Vadim seems more relaxed. He even apologizes for making me come all the way to the café for nothing. But before I even have time to respond, he starts moaning about the seven atrocious days he has ahead of him. And how it’s all my fault. During the ferry ride, we make sure to avoid Basile—who is doing exactly the same—as well as Timothy, who won’t stop staring at us, and even Clémentine, who seems to be in a foul mood and is permanently glued to her phone.

Welcome to Santa Catalina Island: a small, mountainous, unspoiled haven located off the coast of San Pedro, in Los Angeles County, and above all, a nature reserve that recruits volunteers every year to “explore, protect, and restore” its ecosystem. This time around, the group includes about twenty students from our university, to the delight of some of the other volunteers and the dismay of others.

We divide ourselves between the tents scattered across the wild campground facing the Pacific Ocean. Sensational landscapes, a dizzying 360-degree panorama, and—unfortunately—four-person tents. A handful of rangers dressed in khaki from head to toe explain the rules and safety guidelines to us at length, including the worst one of all: never wander off alone. Then they provide everyone with a complete kit containing a sleeping bag, a lantern, and firewood for campfires. We are also given a copy of our schedule for the next six days. Next to me, Vadim sighs, as loudly as possible.

I hear Clem whispering—loud enough to be heard, too—that khaki green is a cruel color for the complexion. I giggle. And I see my best friend chuckle, because she knows she has made me laugh. It’s one of the best feelings in the world. I realize in that moment just how much I miss our closeness.