Page 134 of You + Me – Against the World

He puts an arm around my brother, takes me by the hand, and we walk away, with Clémentine and Isaac in tow.

***

The five of us decide to skip the next class and go to the Sunset Café to recover from what just happened. Clem is overexcited, Basile is a little dazed, Isaac Sanders is grateful, and Vadim has already moved on. He looks out the window to avoid the two guys’ embarrassed thank-yous.

“I’m sorry, Isaac. I didn’t handle that very well…”

My brother is angry at himself for not saying anything, for barely reacting, but his boyfriend strokes his back while gazing at him tenderly.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Baz.”

“I can’t believe that, not so long ago, I used to be a total jerk too.”

“Yes, but now you can be yourself,” his boyfriend whispers to him.

“Meaning just a tiny bit less of a jerk,” I add, to make him smile.

It works, but only for a second. Already, a veil of doubt and regret clouds his eyes.

“You can help make this world better, Basile, make the ignorant listen to reason.”

He starts to cry, and I find I can’t hold back my tears either. Vadim laces his fingers through mine, his thumb caressing the delicate skin of my hand, and his warmth soothes me.

Today, love, pride, and freedom won out.

Again.

46

I feel like the course of my life is being decided today.

My short film is ready, and I even managed to sleep a little. Eating, on the other hand, is simply impossible. I know Vadim spent all night finishing his film, and with his last name at the top of the alphabetically ordered list, he’s first up this morning.

At ten o’clock, Clémentine will be up next with her partner. My turn will come around 2:30 p.m., if the stress hasn’t killed me by then. I just need to get through the ten-minute presentation, the five-minute film, and the fifteen-minute Q&A with the jury.

In front of the whole class.

I have a slight urge to pass out.

Vadim’s short film leaves the whole room speechless. He called it Home. No actors, no dialogue, just breathtaking images and a voice-over—his own—beautiful, cold, and deep. During five intense, tightly packed minutes, he tells the story of one man’s immigration from Russia to the United States. Then, later, the wanderings of a child going from family to family in search of his roots, the quest for a homeland, a hearth, a place where he would finally be “home.” The film then begins to consider inner journeys, depicting the way the young hero learns to use his mind to escape, by imagining stories, directing passersby in imaginary movies—always running away in order to remain free.

Free, but alone.

Finally, an encounter, a girl. Faceless and nameless. The voice-over slowly tells us how, to finally, truly feel that you belong, you shouldn’t look for a place, a house, or a country. You just need to find someone. Someone who makes you want to stop running. Someone to hold onto. Someone to whom you can give a little of your freedom. Someone you could follow to the ends of the earth, and you will always feel at home.

“Oh, Vadim,” I murmur, captivated.

My heart pounds in the silence of the auditorium. My tears flow in the dark—even though I had promised myself not to cry.

When the lights come back on, the other students look at me, curious and touched as well. Clémentine places her hand on my knee, and I notice her eyes are red. The jury congratulates Vadim but only asks him a few questions. He gives half-hearted answers, barely making any effort and definitely not trying to please them. I get the feeling he’s trying to ruin everything. I think he’s afraid of succeeding. It’s the Arcadi paradox: wanting to shine, yet refusing the spotlight. Probably because growing up in the shadows teaches you to be wary of light that blinds a little too much.

Despite Vadim’s lack of enthusiasm in his responses, the teachers and directors once again compliment the quality of his work, his pacing, his realism, his harsh lighting, and his uncompromising choices. They let him know he can go, and the next student is called. Vadim slips between the rows of seats and comes to join me, without a word or a glance in my direction. He waits for the lights to dim again before kissing my neck and whispering three magical, little words that have never meant so much.

I tell him how proud I am. And that he is my world.

***

When my turn comes, after a quick lunch break and some final words of encouragement from Vadim and Clémentine—whose presentation also went well, considering she had the whole audience in fits of laughter—I feel like I’ve forgotten how to breathe.